Chapter 106: Strongest Astrologer

Selaphiel walked solemnly to his novitiate, Ainsworth, who lay quietly in the center of the eighteenth floor of Etten-leur. He knelt beside him, placing a hand on his cheek, before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Alive… good man."

Selaphiel turned his gaze towards the magician who stood at the wayside, nodding his head.

"Lumière Croft, good work. You've both done well to delay. It was the right call."

Lumière watched as the Archangel reached towards his mouth, biting into the side of his hand with enough force to draw blood, crimson which began to trickle down his wrist before blossoming into writhing thorn-laden vines. 

"Do you need help?"

Selaphiel shook his head. "No, you just rest."

He waltzed up towards the Named in the distance, glaring at the figure that emerged in the distance as he spoke.

"What is a Named doing hiding in Etten-Leur? What could possibly be more important than the descension of your Goddess? Is it possible that… she didn't consider you good enough to manage the task?"

Mammon's eyes narrowed, his eyes filling with madness as he shouted. "Shut up, bug!"

In the sea of Mammon, he had taken shape once more. Thousands of tentacles that had been writhing around them suddenly lurched forward towards Selaphiel, slamming onto the ground with enough force to rattle the massive city-like structure around them.

A cloud of dust the size of a building burst into the air, obscuring Selaphiel from the eyes of the Rose onlookers. Having finished their fight against the Nameless, the Roses had gathered beside Lumière to watch the fight between two inconsiderably-powerful beings. 

As the dust fell away from the area, the Roses saw that Mammon's shape had appeared before Selaphiel. However, where they had expected a bloody stain where the tentacles had slammed down on the Archangel, they found piles of flesh and Miasma pooling around him, pieces of tentacles cleanly sliced and placed beside him. 

'What!? Not even a scratch on him!? Even if he's powerful, how did he anticipate such an attack?' Lumière's mind raced as he saw this scene. Wasn't it too out of the ordinary, even if he was incredibly powerful, for him to deftly avoid each attack the Named threw at him?

Unless he had some sort of powerful that allowed him to peer into the events of the future, of course… 

Could it really be? Lumière had never considered that Selaphiel was anything more than a Geas-Bestowed of the Goddess, seeing as how he only ever needed to use the thorns to destroy his enemies. But it was very atypical compared to the other Roses who chose to become an Astrologer or an Alchemist…

Suddenly, Selaphiel's eyes began to glow a fierce sapphire-blue colour, raising his hand as Mammon's blade swung down towards him. At the same moment as his head should have been cleaved in half, Selaphiel slapped the side of the massive sword, causing it to miss his form by mere inches. He stared up at the ferocious beast as he smiled coyly, his once-annoyed mood improving slightly.

"For the longest time, I've wondered why your Blasphemer Goddess would choose to send such weaklings to the mortal realm in order to pursue descension. If she truly wanted to influence this realm, wouldn't she send her most powerful servants to fight? Then, I came to an idea. Perhaps it isn't that she is withholding her strongest fighters, but that she has already sent them. After all, you claim to be such. Is it really the case that the Blasphemer Goddess has no trump cards under her sleeve? Maybe she is not just a Blasphemer Goddess, but a Fallen One."

Mammon's eyes burst with fury into splashes of pus and crimson miasma at the Archangel's provocation. He dropped his blade, lurching towards Selaphiel with his massive disfigured form. Selaphiel moved swiftly towards the Named in unison, slipping right between his arm and torso before appearing on the other side of him, raising his own set of paper cards as he deftly retrieved one, raising it towards Mammon's back.

"Is this really all you miscreants can do?"

As soon as the runes on the card had been activated, bright starlight enveloped the space around them, not too dissimilar from the chain of explosions that Ainsworth had used previously, yet far more concentrated on a singular target, the Named before him. The light pierced deep within Mammon, causing his body to shake as it ruptured outwards, exploding him into a thousand pieces of bone fragments and churning miasma. The vines that had grown out of Selaphiel's blood drippings shot outwards, grasping hold of each of Mammon's pieces before raising his head towards Selaphiel, eye-to-eye.

"Do you have nothing to say?"

Mammon couldn't bear to form a single sentence. Only rage churned within his mind, staring at the Archangel through a sheet of red. Only bloodlust remained.

"You're a 'bug'."

Selaphiel emphasised that last word, watching as the rage in Mammon's disembodied head took shape, dripping miasma sharpening into crystalline spikes before shooting outwards. Selaphiel deftly moved his head, narrowly avoiding the spike before smiling coyly. 

"Alright, I'm bored of you. This wasn't fun at all."

He threw Mammon's head onto the ground, grinding his foot against the Named's cheek before pressing downwards, crushing the skull underneath his boot. He clapped his hands together, wiping the dust and blood off of them before turning towards the Roses with a smile. Having finished off the Nameless, the White and Blue Roses had gathered before the Archangel, bowing slightly as he spoke to them. 

"You've all done well, considering the circumstances. Did anyone die?"

The Roses were shocked. Was it really this easy for him to kill such a powerful enemy?

Dietrich Reiche stepped forward slightly, shaking his head. "No, only Ainsworth suffered greater injury…"

While the Roses convened, Lumière stared at Selaphiel with widened eyes, his gaze shaking with a mixture of amazement and fear. Of course, this Archangel was certainly considered their trump card, that was why they had to delay at all costs. He had seen his prowess against Asmodeus in the middle borough when they had dismantled the descension ritual, but he had never expected that the Archangel would play around with such a powerful enemy like they were a bug. 

As he had assumed, he really had no chance against the powerful servant of the Goddess. He had certainly provoked him at times, but considered that his public presence was his shield. His lies could never fail. It was just like the churches, who constantly had to consider public perception to keep themselves afloat. It was what he had used to manipulate the situation during his final performance. If he lost the love of his audience, then Selaphiel would surely be able to take him down.

'I had only ever seen him use the Goddess's abilities, so I never considered that he too was a user of a Cursed Domain! This Archangel was always an Astrologer! What level could he be at!? I really do have to be careful around him. I should hurry up and start investigating the Phantom Syndicate, as he requested. If I can do this much, it might make it harder for him to view me as an enemy in the eyes of others. At the same time, this was already something I wanted to do… I'll go right after this!'

At the same time as Selaphiel had finished speaking, the White Roses had knelt beside Ainsworth, Midas pressing runes onto his scarred flesh with his own blood. Emerald lights began piercing the darkness as he pulled cells of flesh from the better parts of Ainsworth's body, closing the wounds that had already begun to clot. Soon, the Red Rose opened his eyes, taking in short, shuddering breaths as he glanced at his teammates. 

Ainsworth caught sight of the Archangel, struggling to sit up as he bowed his head towards the figure, who shook his head as if it wasn't something that mattered.

"Rest for a moment. We need to look around anyway." Selaphiel smiled slightly.

"There's something else that requires our attention." Dietrich Reiche called out from behind them. The Blue Roses, slightly battered but not completely injured, had already begun to sift through the goods left behind by the dead Nameless. If they had been conducting such an operation in secret, it was certain that the items they had in the carts must be important in some way. He raised his hand into the air, revealing a long rectangular strip of gold, with ornate engravings present along its surface.

Cornifer's eyes widened as he saw this object, standing up and walking towards Dietrich.

"A golden slate? Isn't this used to get past tolls? It's very useful for a trade company, but can only be provided by Nobility. Moreover, it can only be provided by those Noble Houses who hold the highest positions of Government, the Consulate… this would mean it had to come from the Tormoul or Argyle Houses… why would the Nameless have this…?"

Lumière's eyes widened. 'Argyle? Just like the former husband of Ms. Laertes! Why does this family always have connections to strange occurrences?' 

Nicole must have made the same connection, as he glanced over towards Lumière shortly after. He held a grim, hesitant expression on his face.

Cornifer took the slate from his hands, eyeing it with a grim expression. "A member of the Tormoul or Argyle Houses would never use a golden slate. They would use their seal to pass tolls. It's just not necessary for the family members of a Consul. This should belong to someone they gave it to."

"But who could they have given it to? Couldn't that be many people?" Deitrich Reiche interjected. 

"Not necessarily. The Tormoul and Argyle Houses can't just hand out these golden slates. Even if they were to give one to every noble family, those families would likely only ever allow one person to carry it at a time. But even before that, they would likely only give the slates to families they wish to do business with, whether legitimate or otherwise." 

"Who would that be for each family?"

Cornifer shook his head. "Numerous, too many to count. Although, of note, for the Tormoul family, their main business goes through the Mechanicus Die Firma. And for the Argyle family, it would be the Faulkner, Chatelaine, and Cattleya families."

"Do any of those families operate out of Leiden? I know the Faulkner family is associated with the Capital, and the Chatelaine family is associated with the Southern Shores, but what about the Cattleya family? I've not ever heard much of them?" Ainsworth inquired seriously. 

"The Cattleya family lives right here, in Leiden."

"How come we've never heard of them, then?" Ramses wondered. "Do they like to keep to themselves?"

"Yes. The current representative of the Cattleya house, Esme Cattleya, only attends the gatherings in the Capital because the true head of the House, his father, is always busy with his business, which he does in secret."

"What business?"

Selaphiel smiled, responding in place of Cornifer. "He runs the Entertainment District… as the Lord of Leiden's West Wall, Ried."