Olivia could do nothing but watch as one impossible thing happened after another.
The demon bowing to them after their suicidal pledge. The mana in the air dancing excitedly at the sight of Az, her Az.
The mana solidifying, actually solidifying, taking shape
Something no one knew it could do. Something even the most experienced, educated scholars would salivate to study, yet would doubt even at the sight of it.
To Olivia, it was as if she was watching the world slowly begin to change. And this, she was certain, was only the beginning.
She didn't know if it was because of Azrael, still encased within that strange bismuth-colored cocoon, or because of the demon whose head was still planted in the snow.
"You, thing. Explain what is happening right now."
"My name is Amon, my lady. Amon, the Fourth Marquis of the Ars Goetia. I am a one-of-a-kind existence, so please, when referring to me, use my name… My Lady,"
he said, shooting her a glance filled with hatred and disgust.
