Chapter 311: The Great Demon Focalors

"Bayle, there’s something else I’d like to ask you," Mark said, turning back toward him. "Why did you attack the village I was in?"

At that, Bayle’s expression changed completely.

The calm, servile attitude he’d kept up until then vanished, replaced by visible tension and a flash of resentment in his eyes.

"Because of him, my lord," Bayle answered, pointing toward one of the darker corners of the cavern.

And right after he said that, slow, deliberate clapping suddenly echoed through the entire cavern.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

All four of them spun toward the source of the sound.

And out of that darkness, unhurried, a figure began walking toward them.

It was a humanoid being, tall and slender, wrapped in a deep blue overcoat that trailed down to its feet.

And instead of a face, a black orb hovered above its shoulders, smooth and perfect, from which a thick, smoky mist poured out and streamed backward, rippling through the air like a long trail of smoke for hair.

The instant she saw it, Alice reacted on instinct, planting herself in front of Mark with her fists raised.

"Shit... I didn’t even sense it coming," she muttered, tense, not taking her eyes off the newcomer.

Bayle, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

"Hello," the figure said, in a melodic voice that seemed to come from nowhere in particular. "It’s been a while, my good friend the dragon."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bayle growled, clearly irritated. "Come back for another ass-kicking?"

"I know our first encounter was a bit unfortunate," the figure said mockingly. "But I assure you, the whole thing was nothing more than a terrible misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? You literally showed up on my mountain without any warning and then attacked me without a single word."

"How strange... I remember it quite differently."

"..."

"In any case, I came here to apologize," the figure said, shrugging. "I’d never had the chance to test a dragon’s endurance before, so I wanted to see for myself how much you could take."

Bayle clenched his fists at those words.

It was obvious the explanation had only made things worse, but after a few seconds he managed to hold himself back and stayed silent.

Mark, meanwhile, watched the exchange closely.

If this being had been able to fight a dragon on equal footing, then it was definitely not someone to be taken lightly.

"Although I’ll admit, this all turned out far more entertaining than I expected," the figure went on, extending a hand toward Bayle. "I never imagined you’d get so worked up you’d come looking for me."

A soft, satisfied laugh accompanied its words.

"And, of course, there’s no need to mention how that decision ended up. A powerful dragon reduced to a loyal lapdog... Even if I’d tried to write that ending myself, I doubt I could have done better."

"You damn bastard..."

"Easy, Bayle," Mark cut in, with a sigh.

That exaggerated way of carrying itself, that theatrical tone it used even when talking about something as ugly as senseless violence...

Mark had met enough monsters with that kind of personality to recognize the pattern.

And they all had the same connection.

"Let me guess," Mark said, stepping closer. "You’re one of Mary’s subordinates."

The figure paused, and the black orb tilted toward him, as if it had suddenly found him far more interesting.

"Oho, so you know my mistress’s name," the cloud of smoke seemed to shiver. "How interesting... she’s not exactly in the habit of sharing that kind of information so freely."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah." The figure bowed with an exaggeratedly elegant flourish, placing a hand over its chest. "The Great Demon Focalors, at your service... It’s truly a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Emperor of Death."

Bayle, who hadn’t quite been following the conversation, leaned slightly toward Mark.

"My lord," he murmured, a bit confused. "Do you really know this individual? Because, with all due respect, he doesn’t inspire any confidence in me."

"Not exactly..." Mark replied, not taking his eyes off Focalors. "Let’s just say I have a kind of mutually beneficial relationship with his mistress."

"Oh, what a cold way to put it." Focalors placed a hand over its chest, feigning hurt. "My lady would be terribly upset to hear that. After everything she’s done for you, I’d expect a bit more warmth toward her."

Mark ignored the jab and got straight to the point.

"We were supposed to meet at the half-humans’ camp, weren’t we?" Mark said, frowning. "That was the plan. So tell me, what are you doing so far from where you’re supposed to be?"

Focalors let out a long, almost bored sigh.

"...You were taking too long."

Mark frowned.

"What?"

"You were taking too long. An eternity, actually," Focalors replied, the cloud of smoke stirring with impatience. "And you must understand, my dear Emperor of Death, that I am not exactly a creature known for its patience."

Focalors paused before continuing.

"I get bored terribly easily, and sitting around waiting isn’t something I enjoy... So I decided to head out, stretch my legs, and find something to entertain myself with."

"..."

"But, looking at it from another angle, everything turned out wonderfully," Focalors said, as if it had just arrived at a brilliant conclusion. "In the end you got yourself a fully loyal dragon out of it. If you ask me, that makes it all worth it."

It waved a hand with a carefree smile.

"So really, you should be thanking me."

Alice was still standing in front of Mark, not letting her guard down for a second. Hearing that, she let out a snort dripping with contempt.

"You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You nearly got Bayle to kill all of us, and now you show up here expecting a thank you... go screw yourself."

Focalors seemed delighted by the response.

"Oh... the lady with the metal fists has some fire to her. I like that."

Then it looked her up and down.

"Although you might want to wash up, my dear... that shade of green really doesn’t suit you."

One of Alice’s eyes started twitching slightly.

"Are you trying to get that damn orb shoved up your ass, is that it?"

"Alice!" Aria scolded her under her breath, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide a laugh threatening to escape.

Mark dragged a hand down his face, clearly exasperated. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

This monster was practically a carbon copy of Rudolf and Angelica.

The same arrogant attitude, the same way of talking to everyone else like they were complete idiots, and above all, that same infuriating habit of dancing around a point forever before finally saying what it actually meant.

For a moment, Mark wondered if all of the Demon Lord’s servants were like this, or if he’d simply had the bad luck of running into the three worst possible examples.

"Get to the point. What do you want?"

Focalors let out a laugh, and the cloud wrapped around its head trembled as if sharing in its amusement.

"What a delightfully awful temper you have," it said, clearly entertained. "My lady wasn’t exaggerating one bit when she told me about you."

The orb tilted slightly to one side.

"You should learn to enjoy a conversation a bit more, after all, life is so much more fun once you stop rushing from one thing to the next all the time."

"Focalors."

"Alright, alright."

The demon raised both hands in surrender, though its tone made it clear it was savoring every second of the situation.

"I’ll get to the point, since you seem determined to rob me of all my fun."

Focalors paused briefly, letting the silence drag on just long enough to irritate him a little more before continuing.

"I came to finalize the last details of our little performance with you..."