Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 69 - 66: The Purest Raymontos

Fallen Angel, Raymond?

Lyle thought of that moment when the large plate armor emitting holy light moved through Andrei Academy, bringing down a crowd with every gesture. Raymond’s fall from grace seemed as ridiculous as his social circle; he was like a sun perpetually high in the sky, untainted by any word of filth.

Although his circle of acquaintances was also lofty, he was nonetheless pursued by the demon race.

Quite interesting.

On the way, Lyle quietly regretted turning down several enthusiastic invitations from demons.

Tonight seemed to be Mr. Raymond’s show—people’s words revolved around the term ’Fallen Angel’ as if it were some baseless rumor started by someone. Clearly, ’Seraph’ would have been more fitting.

He handed his ticket to the armored demon at the door, their armor adorned with bright red, twisted patterns resembling altered hieroglyphics.

"That’s the magic crest of the Pomfrey Family, a noble and ancient demon race lineage. Their magic crest is like our family crest, representing ownership of the arena by the Grand Duchess of Demon, Mrs. Pomfrey. Demons by nature love to fight and destroy. To manage these troublemakers, you have to be the toughest one out there."

"So, Mrs. Pomfrey is the strongest here?"

"She has powerful martial capabilities, but she’s not the strongest. The strongest would be her deceased husband, the former Champion of the arena."

"He died?"

"He died in a power struggle for the title of Grand Duke of Demon—solo combat doesn’t mean you’re the king of war. That’s why her authority has been questioned lately, and she had to hastily arrange her eldest son’s coming-of-age ceremony to maintain her status as Duchess."

"Isn’t noble lineage recognized?"

"Power reigns supreme. Her late husband wasn’t highborn, but still, he managed to marry into the Pomfrey Family based on his strength."

"Sounds like the arena doubles as a matchmaking event."

"Exactly. Gladiatorial combat is a sacred tradition for demons, used for settling disputes, determining social status, courting, and celebration. It’s one of the reasons why Mr. Raymond is worshipped—demons see him as the ideal partner. Although the title of Champion among demons and other races is mutually exclusive, Mr. Raymond is currently recognized as the strongest in the Black Abyss Gladiatorial Arena."

"Mrs. Pomfrey has indeed extended an invitation to Mr. Raymond, discussing remarriage."

"Hiss, what was the outcome? Did Raymond refuse?"

"The letter never reached his hands. Andrei Academy destroyed the correspondence. We do our utmost to prevent any contact between Raymond and the demon race to avoid diplomatic disputes that would arise from purification upon close contact with idols. Andrei has enough troubles as it is."

"So, Mr. Raymond is completely unaware of his worship?"

"Yes, in his view, demons probably get agitated upon seeing holy light. Believe me, he wouldn’t be too happy to know demons like him, as it’s nearly impossible for demons to be potential devotees of holy light."

The two found their seats in the massive stands, akin to a typical stadium with stepped seating. The central battlefield was about half the size of a soccer field, enveloped by a hemispherical shield of light.

People from Andrei sat distinctly on one side of the stands, clearly separated by the organizers from the demons on the other side.

"The demon section often erupts in verbal exchanges, which escalate to the stage of combat demonstrations—fighting below and above the stage."

Lyle looked over at a group of handsome men and beautiful women cheering together, some waving their arms toward this side.

Andrei was silent—

indifferently watching the reveling male and female demons.

A dwarf in flashy clothes took to the commentator’s booth. The creature, a short goblin with pointed horns—an Inferior Demon—was unloved due to its slight stature. However, its sharp-tongued eloquence contributed to the enlightenment of a few demon minds, saving it from being devoured.

He picked up a blue crystal block, a magic microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the eight hundred and ninety-second midnight battle at the Black Abyss Arena! I’m your commentator, Bigby!" His tone rose dramatically at the end, heating up the atmosphere.

The demons cheered, and even the people from Andrei clapped their hands.

"Bigby’s commentary is very interesting; you’re sure to like it too."

"Welcome to tonight’s first challenger, oh, he hails from the elite-rich Andrei Academy! The brutal Thunder Messenger, the merciless Storm Mage King! Let us welcome, the thundering descent — Thunder!"

Andrei Academy erupted in fervent cheers, with passionate clapping that prompted everyone to stand up, forcing Lyle to listen carefully to the gentleman’s words.

"Mr. Thunder, president of the Weather Research Association, formerly a member of the Magic Research Society, an expert in Lightning Magic, with magic power around Six Locks."

The gates of the arena were thrown open, and from the dark depths, a metal long-needle was violently cast, slanting into the ground.

A loud bang.

A bolt of lightning fell from the void, striking the long needle, and when the audience opened their eyes once more, the tip of a foot lightly touched the tip of the needle.

A figure surrounded by brilliant snakes of electricity stood upon that thin needle, shrouded in a robe.

"So strong."

"Plague Doctor, your assessment carries no weight at all given you’re not even at One Lock."

As Andrei’s cheers gradually waned, Bigby spoke up again.

He first gestured for silence with a wave of his hand, his face showing unparalleled seriousness; he raised a hand high, and immediately a guard from the Demon Race approached a drum, and as the thunderous drumbeats quickened, Bigby bellowed,

"He is God’s favorite child, an angel who has fallen to the mortal realm, possessing divine power yet fallen for love, forsaking the splendors of Heaven to come to our fiery Black Abyss Arena, to battle in the blood for the sake of passing one hundred and twenty holy trials, to redeem his love punished by the deities."

"Our King of Black Abyss! The wing-broken Fallen Angel, supremely good and beautiful, utterly pure and refined, the eternal Champion, Fallen Angel Raymontos!"

The Demon Race’s side erupted like a volcanic explosion, a tsunami of cheers, with every member of the Demon Race raising their hands, chanting that name.

"Raymontos!" "Raymontos!" "Raymontos!"

"That’s an honorific for the Grand Duke of Demon, don’t mind these opening words."

The opposing gate gradually opened.

A blurry cloud rose into the mid-air of the arena.

Let there be light.

The cloud was torn asunder, and a figure in Golden Armor emerged like the rising sun, with sacred singing filling the air, and the phantom of an Angel flying through the midst. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Raymond stepped down from the void’s staircase, descending slowly from mid-air, each of his footsteps sounding like an ancient bell being struck.

Set after set of Light Wings unfolded behind him, with chains entwined around the feathers.

The Seraph with ten wings and ten locks set foot upon the earth.

The fervor of the Demon Race reached its zenith; they climbed to the lowest tier of the stands, cheering towards that figure of light.

Raymond was like a world superstar, he looked around, and chose a lucky audience member for a close interaction; two phantoms of angels sang as they showered him with luminous petals.

The Demon Race screamed, some girls fainted in ecstasy, while the others began a physical scuffle to defend the non-existent rights to be Raymond’s wife.

The Demon Race descended into chaos.

Meanwhile, on Andrei’s side, there was dead silence, caught in an inexplicable awkwardness.

Lyle patted the sacred petals that had fallen on his hat.

"Mr. Gentleman..."

"Exactly, it’s just as you think, Plague Doctor, Raymond is telling you how cool the holy light is, aren’t you tempted to join yet?"