A massive noise startled the entire manor.
Soon, the gates were slammed open, and a group of armed guards rushed in.
The first thing they saw was the Young Miss unconscious on the floor, with the Saintess Candidate slumped over her, shaking her and crying out in a panic, looking completely lost.
"Miss Hester!!!"
The scene was momentarily very chaotic.
At the same time, somewhere in the Royal Capital's Center.
"What do you mean 'a violent magical explosion occurred at the Hester Family manor, and Saintess Colette is suspected of attacking the noble Veronica'?"
Caesar looked at the latest intelligence sent by Otto and nearly lost his composure on the spot.
He had only recently learned that Cecilia had somehow gotten mixed up with that perverted woman. Out of concern, he had even spent a few days observing them.
The other party seemed to be the original Colette's financial backer and ally... He thought Ceciliahad finally gotten lucky—no, what kind of trouble did she get into this time?
Viola's dragon soul drifted out from the sharp claw and commented, "That's very much in character for that child."
Caesar didn't bother responding to the sarcasm.
His original plan was to wait for the Plasma Cult to attack the Tidal Festival, when the city would be at its most chaotic, and take that stupid dragon away amidst the Confusion.
Now, he needed to make more preparations.
He picked up a Plasma communicator and redialed Otto's private line.
"It's me."
Otto on the other end of the line flinched, his voice changing pitch: "Tr... Trinity-sama! What are your orders!"
"Spread the word," Caesar commanded in a disguised, raspy voice, "say that the capital's underworld forces were dissatisfied with the Saintess and hired assassins to stage an accident to assassinate her, only to accidentally injure the Young Miss of the Hester family."
"Ah? But Lord, right now everyone thinks it was the Saintess who did it..."
"Then make them think the Church is incompetent, unable to even protect their own Saintess." Caesar interrupted coldly, "Muddle the waters and force the Church to strengthen the protection of all the Saintess Candidates, understand?"
"Understood! I understand!" Otto responded repeatedly.
Hanging up the communication, Caesar rummaged through a pile of seized loot and pulled out the Cult's plan that recorded the locations of eighteen 'derivatives.'
He transcribed a copy of this plan, stuffed it into a plain envelope under the cover of night, and sent it anonymously to the Church of Light's Tribunal.
After finishing all this, he looked out from the stronghold at the festive Royal Capital.
A storm was coming.
On the other side, an almost undetectable wisp of black smoke circled above the Hester Manor and let out a silent roar.
"Damn Saintess! Damn dragon!!"
Beelzebub was furious to the extreme.
It, a dignified Legendary demon and a soul fragment of the Abyss Lord Beelzebub, had actually been 'killed' twice in a single day!
The first time, its projection was blown apart by a lowly earth dragon using a sneak attack.
The second time was even more shameful! It had just found a decent host and hadn't even begun its revenge plan when it was one-shotted in a completely nonsensical way by a harmless-looking silver-haired girl!
Sneak attack! Another sneak attack!
Do none of these guys have the guts to fight it head-on?!
Too underhanded!
If not for the life-saving mechanism of the [Dark Possession Art], it would have completely dissipated by now.
No, it had to find a new host immediately!
Beelzebub endured the pain of its soul tearing apart as it drifted over the Royal Capital, searching for a suitable target.
Suddenly, it sensed a powerful and pure life aura.
It was a Dragon Might filled with flames and the will of destruction!
The black smoke suddenly changed direction and lunged toward the source of the aura... On the outskirts of the Royal Capital's black market, the Red Dragon Fafnir was frowning as he inspected a demon specimen he had just 'bought' from an auction.
These days, the signs of chaos in the Royal Capital were becoming more and more obvious.
First, the Saintess's entry caused a sensation, then 'Eight Fingers' was mysteriously wiped out, and now even demon creations containing ultimate power were starting to circulate in the black market.
Fafnir's intuition told him that all of this was inextricably linked to that damned 'Plasma Cult.'
He planned to gather some evidence and hand it over to his teacher, Ilena, for her to decide once she finished her secluded meditation.
While he was focused on studying the Saronite residue on the corpse, he completely failed to notice a thin wisp of black smoke silently slipping into the gap between the scales on his back.
Fafnir's body jolted, but he quickly returned to normal.
He just felt a slight chill on the back of his neck, thought it was the night wind, and didn't pay it any mind.
Deep within his Sea of Consciousness, a tyrannical voice was laughing wildly.
"Hahahaha... A dragon! A pure-blooded dragon!!"
Beelzebub woke up, feeling the surging, explosive power within this new body, trembling with excitement.
It was more than a hundred times stronger than that frail human girl!
It immediately began reading the dragon's memories, though it didn't dare go too deep for fear of being discovered.
"Red Dragon... Saintess Candidate... 'Plasma Cult'... Colleagues...?"
As it saw the fragmented memories of the young Red Dragon, Beelzebub's anger was ignited once again.
It instantly connected everything together!
The rumors in the capital said the Saintess was a 'Dragon in human skin'!
That silver-haired girl calling herself 'Colette' had heavily wounded it with a nonsensical, bizarre light that specifically countered it!
Now, after its remnant soul escaped and found a random host, it had actually possessed a dragon!
There was only one truth!
The Dragon Clan and the Church of Light had joined forces!
That so-called Saintess was simply a trap set by the Dragon Clan specifically targeting it! That seemingly stupid girl was actually a despicable, shameless, and deeply calculating pretender!
"Good... Very good!"
Deep within Fafnir's consciousness, Beelzebub let out a silent, sinister laugh.
"The Dragon Clan, is it? The Saintess, is it?"
"You ruined my plans and heavily wounded my soul fragment... I accept this grand gift! I will use this body to tear everything you cherish into pieces!"
This time, the demon... or rather, the 'Demon God' Beelzebub intended to get serious. It couldn't wait to start its plan.
—It had already been this unlucky; it couldn't possibly be kicked to death by some legend popping out of nowhere on the roadside, right?
No way, no way.
Victory belongs to me, Beel-ze-bub