"Hey now, we're all Sarkaz here… no need to make things difficult for our own kind, right?"
A brown-skinned man in mercenary armor, with heavy dark circles under his eyes, raised his hands with a wry smile.
His name was Toland.
Of course, as someone recognized among bounty hunters as a leader, he was far from ordinary.
But…
Looking at the towering, broad-waisted Sarkaz in red robes around him, and the Sarkaz casters wearing worn top hats with dangerous arts forming in their hands, he quickly realized the severity of the situation.
'The Church of Satan… has come to Kazimierz too?'
After Satan's identity had been revealed, the organization had fallen into a long period of turmoil, splintering into multiple factions.
Some Sarkaz, feeling betrayed, had left the church entirely.
Some chose to seek refuge under the Duke's domain, becoming part of the Duchy of Kashchey.
But there were also those who neither abandoned the church nor pledged themselves to the duke.
They remained, continuing to walk this land as followers of Satan.
'What the hell are these lunatics trying to do…'
Toland respected the "Satan Foundation," since they had indeed improved the Sarkaz's international image.
He could also understand the "Satan Treasure Hunters." After all, there was no shortage of people on this land dreaming of striking it rich overnight—especially ordinary Sarkaz who often found themselves at the bottom.
But what he could not understand was why some Sarkaz still chose to worship Satan, chasing after a phantom that had never truly existed.
"…Hornless kin, we have no intention of making you our enemy."
One of the apparent leaders of the Satanists stepped forward, approaching the vigilant Toland.
From the burly man—his suit stretched tight over bulging muscles, a relatively new top hat perched on his head—Toland felt a heavy sense of pressure.
'Damn it… why is an Apostle of Desire here? That Ursus duke really is up to no good. Is he trying to stir up another Ukaz War?'
Tolan kept his usual easygoing smile, but inwardly he was already on guard.
As the head of the Kazimierz Hunters' Association, he was well-informed.
The "Apostles of Desire" were high-level contractors said to have traded with Satan himself for power.
Some of them could wield multiple forms of Sarkaz sorcery with ease. Others, despite suffering fatal wounds, would emerge from battles completely unharmed… though nearly all of them carried some degree of mental instability.
A certain aspect of their desire had been magnified to the extreme, leaving them dangerously unbalanced.
This was not a side effect of their "contracts," but rather an influence from a deeper layer of the Sarkaz collective consciousness.
The accumulated emotions of the Sarkaz race over thousands of years could never be so easily grasped by the Black Snake.
Still, the "Church of Satan" seemed to have found a way to mitigate the worst effects.
They called it "self-restraint," a trial not declared by Satan himself, but realized by the followers on their own.
They believed in Satan, certainly—but did they truly understand him?
Or were they, as rumors claimed, worshipping nothing more than an illusion?
A phantom that existed only within their own hearts.
"We have no intention of preaching to you. Satan resides within the heart, and desire is inseparable from us. We have come here for one purpose only—to collect the 'debt of the Sarkaz.'"
"And what exactly is this 'debt' you speak of?"
"That is not something you need to know in detail. Tell me—where are the leaders of the bounty hunters, the 'Corrupted Knight' and the 'Withered Knight'? We will pay you accordingly for the information."
The burly Sarkaz man held his top hat against his chest.
"After all, a transaction is about mutual benefit."
"…No problem—"
Tolan had just agreed when he noticed something strange.
Every Sarkaz around him, whether they wore a hat or not, assumed the gesture of removing one.
"[The contract is sealed.]"
A sudden heat spread across the back of Toland's right hand.
Startled, he quickly looked down, only to find a name inscribed there in ancient Sarkaz script.
At the same time, the burly leader extended his own hand, revealing the same script.
It was Toland's true name, written in ancient Sarkaz.
"…Don't you think that's a bit presumptuous?"
Toland's smile vanished as his hand moved to the blade at his waist.
"This merely ensures the integrity of the transaction. Once it is complete, the contract will naturally dissolve."
The man placed his top hat back onto his head.
"Praise be to you, Lord Satan."
Toland let out a cold snort but made no further move.
He could feel that the contract on his hand posed no immediate harm… but what would happen if he broke it was another matter entirely.
The legends of the "Devil of Kazdel" had not faded, even after Satan's true identity became known.
'Still… this is way too one-sided.'
At the same time, a black-robed "Snake Scale" was hiding in a dark alley, furtively sketching a series of intricate symbols.
He was one of his lord's hidden agents planted here.
Though this city was already teeming with informants from the Chamber of Commerce, before pledging his loyalty, he had been a seasoned mercenary.
Disguise and infiltration came naturally to him.
But now, he had "turned toward the light."
Theresa's ideals and compassion were too grand and distant for him.
Theresis's ambition and iron rule filled him with fear and revulsion.
Only that one… the one who wielded the authority of the "Sarkaz King," who had earned the Sarkaz King's "recognition," and who generously granted tangible rewards—Duke Kashchey—was someone truly worthy of his loyalty.
The Sarkaz Snake Scale closed his eyes.
In his mind, the image of a red-haired Sarkaz wearing a suit, a tall top hat, and white gloves grew clearer and clearer…
"(an obscure incantation in ancient Sarkaz)"
A blood-red magic circle, inscribed with complex ancient Sarkaz script, emerged upon the wall.
"You've done well…"
Satan stepped out from the circle.
Looking at the Snake Scale kneeling before him, he let out a soft chuckle.
"Then it's only right that I reward you… go on. Your wife and your eight-year-old son are eagerly waiting for you to return."
He placed a hand on the trembling Snake Scale's head.
"Your mission in Kazimierz is complete."
As soon as the words fell, the overjoyed Snake Scale vanished into thin air.
At that very moment, in an ordinary home within the Duchy of Kashchey, a husband returned to the wife he missed, and a father to the son he longed for.
Satan straightened his attire, preparing to step out of the alley openly.
Suddenly, he turned his head sharply, looking toward the direction where Toland had formed a contract with the Church of Satan.
Even though it was still some distance from the Kawalerielki.
'…Those troublesome followers are at it again.'