Amidst the laughter, Amon retrieved his blade, making it disappear, as he backed away from the naked demon kneeling before Solomon. Amon closed his eyes, again, as he returned to his butler functions, picking up the table and mess next to it.
The naked demon raised his head, his ocean-blue eyes locking onto Astaroth's figure. A smile crept up on its face.
"Kakaka. Thank you, kind mortal, for being so merc—"
*Pah!*
Astaroth looked at the demon, his hand outstretched next to him, as a red hand mark appeared on the latter's face, having been backhand slapped.
"That's for trying to trap me in an illusion. Also, your laugh is annoying, so, shut up will you?"
Another burst of laughter echoed out of Solomon's lungs.
"BOAHAHAHA! You just treated a duke of hell like a cheap prostitute! Boahahaha! I like you, boy!"
"Sir, please stop laughing so loudly," Amon asked, from the side.
His squinting face belied the sensitivity of his hearing, as the old man laughed with abandon.
Even Astaroth thought it was too loud of a laugh. But he was hardly going to backhand Solomon too.
As for the demon, given the title Solomon said he held, Astaroth was surprised he didn't lash out at him. Was he weak, or simply too tame to care?
It was Solomon, who answered his silent question.
"Do not fret, boy. The demons are bound to my will, through the ring. As long as I don't give him an order, he can't do anything to you."
Astaroth nodded his head. He could feel the shame and anger the demon was exuding from his kneeling position.
But if the old man said there was no danger, he would take his word for it.
"Now, back to business we go. I understand why Vassago called out to you. But what made you pick up the ring? It was hardly his voice that was enough to convince you to pick it up, was it?"
Astaroth remembered they were still discussing that.
"Ahh, yes. No, that wasn't the only reason. I felt souls inside the ring, and I thought I could use them with my powers. That is why I tried picking up the ring."
"Hmm. Souls, you say? I guess demons could be called that, yes. In a sense, they are condemned souls. But your ability to sense them past my seal is quite remarkable in itself."
"My master said I have a great sense for everything that is energy-related. Be it mana, Aether, or souls, my senses catch them all."
"Hmm. A god's eye, perhaps? No. It has to be weaker, or you would have seen the seal, my presence, and even the true form of the demons through the ring. Do you have a name for that ability?"
"The sys–Ahem. The ability is called Perfect Mana Senses. But it catches on to any form of energy. Not just mana."
Solomon frowned at his retracting statement.
"You were going to say something. What was it?"
"Ahh. I doubt you would understand, sir."
"Try me."
Solomon leaned in, crossing his hands together.
Gulping audibly again, Astaroth complied.
"I was going to say the system calls it Perfect Mana Senses. But I doubt you understand what I mean by the system."
"I know the word system, boy. But the way you use it differs from mine. Perhaps your meaning differs, too? Enlighten me."
Astaroth wasn't sure how to explain a game system to a man who had lived in a time of legends and demons.
"Well, to make it simple, the world appears to us players through the help of the system. To us, this world is nothing but a game. Even though I know better, the word system still comes naturally."
"I see…"
Solomon leaned back into his sofa, his face pensive.
'I hope I didn't confuse him.'
But after a few moments of silence, the old man opened his mouth to speak again.
"You say you are players. So there is more than one of you?"
"Ahh, yes. We are many, from all around our world."
"From another world. Hmm. So you are abnormals?"
"Yes, many of the natives call us abnormals. I imagine the term applies to any person not from your world."
"Indeed, that is the word we use for inhabitants of another world. We had some when I was still alive, too. Though most of them became legends and minor gods."
"I see. Well, I wish we become strong enough to be at that level someday. Because what is in store for our world would require as much power."
Astaroth was thinking back to Khalor's promise of an invasion, and how Vassago had confirmed it through a vision he had. If those things were to come true, then only power equal to legendary heroes would save them.
"Boy. What if I were to help you? Offer you power enough to help your world survive. Would you take it?"
Astaroth wanted to jump and scream yes. But the underlying tone worried him.
"It all depends on the cost. I know power always comes at a cost."
"Wise assumption, for someone your age. The cost is steep, but I believe you can handle it."
"And what is it?"
After a pause, Solomon locked his gaze with him before answering.
"If you can bear the burden to your soul, my power can be yours. All seventy-two demons under my command can become your allies. But if your soul turns out to be too weak, they will devour it and set themselves free into the world. And that world will most likely be yours."
Astaroth's eyes widened. He couldn't imagine what seventy-two demons, some much more powerful than Amon or whoever the naked one before him was, could do to his world.
But the prospect of commanding a small army of demons, all most likely stronger than him, was an incentive that was hard to refuse.
From what he understood here, Solomon was holding their power on a leash. That would explain why both Amon and the naked demon did next to nothing to him, willingly or not.
If their leashes were to be transferred to him, would he be strong enough to hold them, or would he fail, die, and release them into his world, quickening the incoming end?
But Astaroth was ready to take that chance.
"What do I have to do?"