Chapter Text
After so long a wait, welcome back to Rokkenjima. Put yourself at ease- there are no enemies here any longer, only old friends.
The Crimson Witch has come with a tale. She believes in your ability- your ability to 'solve', and to 'understand'. What you do with your understanding is up to you, she says- she only asks that you understand at all.
'Difficulty is what you make of it', says the Crimson Witch. You may take on whatever difficulty you like. Should you choose to battle, she will put up her best.
(BGM: Rose)
The displeasure radiating from the Endless Sorcerer, Battler Ushiromiya, was such that he needed two master butlers in his chamber to soothe him. Falling back on old habits, though, the human of the two, one Genji Ronoue, had poured him a glass of noxious green liquid, such that his grandfather Kinzo had enjoyed.
It was evident looking from the state of the room, and in particular the shattered glass on the floor, how much Battler enjoyed said glass. “Genji.” Battler said, gritting his teeth, rubbing his temples. “I know you served Grandfather for a long time.” Genji stood impassively, waiting to receive his master's rebuke.
“Indeed he did.” The devil butler, Ronove, twenty-seventh among the seventy-two demons of Solomon's Key, chuckled lightly at his human counterpart's mistake. Between the two of them, everyone admitted he had much better hair.
“And I know that this was his favorite thing to drink.” Battler said, sighing and crossing his arms, before deciding he didn't like that posture and leaning his head onto his fist instead. “I am well, well aware. And I'm not even mad.”
“...My apologies, Lord Battler.” Genji bowed. “I do not deserve your kindness.”
“But I think I would prefer a drink that was prepared for a human, and not a well-preserved corpse of a man like him.” Battler said. “Now, when I say that, just to be clear, I want to be as drunk as possible before I have to go back down there.”
The two butlers were all keenly aware of the situation of which Battler spoke. On Rokkenjima, this night, a calamity had struck. A great and terrible misfortune had befallen the Ushiromiya family and all supernaturally-related forces.
The master's wife, Beatrice-
-had thrown a party.
(BGM: Love Examination)
“Yahooooooooooo!” The witch in question shrieked from the floor below. Last Battler had seen her, she was so inebriated that she had had Duke Dantalion remove one of his heads for her to parade around in like it was a party favor. Poor cousin George had been so frightened by it that he had had a heart attack. Then, because they were in the Golden Land, he had proceeded to regain use of his heart and then lose it again in short order. “Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhh! Who's your mommy noooow, Purson? Ihehahahyahahahehahahyaha!”
The chaos in the manor had long since become uncontrollable even for Genji and Ronove's incredible buttling capabilities. Beatrice had invited all of her friends. Were she a normal human, of course, that would mean nothing, but Beatrice the Golden was, after all, the Endless Witch, and she seemed to have every single one of the seventy-two demons of Solomon's Key on speed dial.
Sure, it was nice at first, since a few of them, Battler knew already. Ronove and Gaap were around quite frequently, Zepar and Furfur were a known quantity by now, and somehow or another, Asmodeus of the Seven Stakes of Purgatory held enough sway in the underworld to count (and how that had happened, Battler had no clue).
The first to arrive, Prince Vassago, was a lovely houseguest, having even helped the family set up beforehand. Once Duke Agares came in riding a crocodile, though, in short order, all hell broke loose. Even thinking about the situation gave Battler unfortunate flashbacks. Glasyalabolas's flesh melting across the floor, leaving a stench that would never get out! Naberius, made of shadow, somehow tangoing with Seere from within the walls, and knocking over every painting in the process! And that smug bastard Dantalion, oh, Battler didn't like him. Even more than the great lion man Marbas, who ate all of the meat, or Zepar and Furfur commentating over a jousting match between Eligor and Andras, or Shax, who stole all of Battler's savings and gave it to Doctor Nanjo, of all people, no, Dantalion was the worst, with his smug, punchable faces constantly spewing out about how he knew eeeeeverything, knew the thoughts and held the faces of all people, and yet Battler thinking about the platonic ideal of a fist hadn't gotten him to shove off, aaaaaargh!
“It's no good, it's no goddamned good at all!” Battler roared, slamming his fists on his desk. “Uwaaaaaargh!!!! How am I supposed to deal with this?! Meeting you demonic bastards one at a time was bad enough, and now I have to meet sixty-seven of them in a single night?! Uwaaaaaaaaaaagh!” After screaming his lungs out, he paused. “No offense, Ronove. I love you like a brother.”
“The sentiment is appreciated, milord.” Ronove chuckled.
The door burst open, and the previous Endless Witch, Virgilia, and Battler's Aunt Natsuhi staggered into the door. They leaned on each other for support, though as usual in any situation where she was in a pair, Aunt Natsuhi was the stronger. “A few of them have started to leave.” Virgilia panted. “They... they weren't all this rambunctious before...!”
“Hey, Aunt Natsuhi.” Battler said, levying a spare pipe he'd had to pick up from Beatrice when she'd gotten falling-down drunk at her. “Aren't you from a family of... shrine maidens? Maybe you could try doing something like,” and he stood up and flung out his arms, “Evil spirits, begone!”
The ever-cool Aunt Natsuhi stared at him, and said, “Do you also wish for me to banish Father?”
The whooping cackle of Kinzo Ushiromiya bellowed through the halls. “Uuuuuuuooooooh, Beatriiiiiiceeeeee!” He called out, and behind them in the hallway, Battler could see Kinzo riding the unfortunate back of Count Halphas, who was decent enough. “I would do anything to see your smile once again, uuu, uuuuoooohhh!”
“She's downstairs, you old bat, and get off of me!” Halphas had produced his rapier, which he held despite lacking hands (he was, after all, mostly a crow,) and had begun attempting to stab Kinzo, but if there was one thing that never worked on Kinzo Ushiromiya, it was death.
A few entire bottles of actual liquor later, Battler walked down the stairs to survey the damage to his own home, kicking a rotund woman with a shiny red crown, frog-like tongue, and webbed feet down the stairs as he did. “Sorry, Your Majesty.” Battler said to Baal, the highest-ranking demon in all of Hell. Baal, of course, was unconscious, and very wobbly besides, so she didn't say anything.
As he surveyed the chaos, Battler rubbed his chin and asked, “Who do we have left?”
“There are currently twenty-three remaining guests.” Genji had a list, because he was, after all, a master butler. “Twelve of them are unconscious, two of them are engaged in a battle with Kanon and Lady Jessica-”
“C'mere, you horsey bastard, let's see if you like dancing after this!” Jessica roared, and Battler caught a glimpse of her in the kitchen, wailing on the equine form of Orobas right in the unmentionables- and by the noises Orobas was making, it hurt. A lot. Served him right for all his guff, anyhow.
“-we've just caught a glimpse of Duke Halphas.” Genji continued. “Prince Vassago is still present, and last I heard, he was assisting Kumasawa in attempting to repair the curtains. Gohda is attempting to prevent President Zagan from assaulting his stock of water.”
On a sofa in the parlor, Battler's father Rudolf and a half-naked, mohawk-sporting satyr with an electric guitar (and no pants, because these demon women never wore pants,) were belting out drunken showtunes. “I'm motherfucking Jack Bauer and I kick all sorts of asssssss.” Rudolf slurred.
“You're motherfucking Jack Bauer, but sometimes your show is shiiiiit.” Duchess Amdusias crooned back at him.
Battler was taking mental inventory as he went, of the demons as well as the humans. Of the eighteen humans on Rokkenjima, he now counted nine. Doctor Nanjo had fled to the guesthouse to count his ill-begotten gains and flee from the still-raging firestorm caused by the presence of President Amy (or, rather, that was President Amy,) and Uncle Krauss had wisely fled to his moon hotel just before the party started, so that was two more accounted for. Looking outside the window, Battler glared at the moon. Damn you, Uncle Krauss.
Finding four more humans, and one more demon, was as easy as finding where George had passed out previously. His mother Eva sobbed over his unconscious body, while simultaneously roaring at Marquis Forneus in that tiger mother manner she did. “You can teach him 'all manners of rhetoric,' can't you?!” She pointed her fan at the demonic manta, floating several feet off the ground. “Make him loved by his friends and foes?!”
“E-Eva, maybe we should try reviving George before we think about his future!” Her husband Hideyoshi sputtered, bowing frantically. Forneus, honestly, just looked rather bemused.
Shannon, meanwhile, was kneeling on the other side of George's body. She leaned down and whispered, “George-san, you have to wake up now.” She smiled a bit, and said, “That's an order.”
The words of power jolted George awake, and he loudly gasped off of the floor. “Eh? Eh, eh?” He muttered. “Where am-?” He pushed up his glasses threateningly when he realized where he was, and what had transpired. “Ah. I see. Thank you, Shannon.” They stood up and left, nodding to Battler, all while Eva's berating the poor Marquis left her so distracted she didn't even notice.
Over by the well, in the raging firestorm, Aunt Rosa was attempting to catch her daughter Maria, who was currently riding without a care in the world atop a massive, multi-headed hound whose flesh was constantly in a state of rotting off. “Uu, uu!” Maria called out. “Faster, faster!”
Captain of manslaughter and bloodshed, Count Glasyalabolas, beat his wings of bone and bits of flesh, constantly burning in the flames. A horrible, echoing bark rattled out from his long-dead throat. Maria cried that she was enjoying herself, too. “M-Maria!” Rosa shouted. “At least find another demon to ride! You might get sick!” She had picked up Duke Agares's crocodile, and was pointing it at Maria, who rode onward unheeding. Duke Agares, meanwhile, was chasing after her on his very tiny legs, despite the fact that his beard was burning off.
Finally, Aunt Kyrie (who was, it should be noted, technically Battler's mother, but that was a long, complicated subject) was in the island's chapel, discussing with the great Princess Stolas regarding... various manners. “Tell me more about this 'iocane powder.'” Kyrie hummed, nodding her head.
“Odorless, tasteless, and guaranteed to be fatal in most doses, but an immunity can be built up through ingestion in its natural form from inside the seeds of the snozzberry plant.” With great, glowing eyes peering from within her wings-that-were-also-a-cloak, Stolas needed not poke her head out from within for her to have a clear presence. The long bird legs also helped. Frankly, Battler was reminded more of a ball of lint by her fashion sense, but if this conversation was any indication-
“That's interesting.” Kyrie smiled. That smile scared Battler. “I'd like to get my hands on some.”
Eleven conscious demons found meant that Dantalion was gone, though, and so Battler felt free to open up the door to the dining room, to find, atop a pile of unconscious bodies including Gaap, Dantalion (thank god,) and a few others Battler didn't even know, the Golden Witch Beatrice, hanging from her necktie on the ceiling fan, spinning around on the ceiling. “Yoooooohoooooo, Bat-to-raaaaaaaa~” She sang out, throwing up the horns. “Aren't my friends greaaaat? Kihihihihi!”
“Beato...” Battler sighed, put his fingers on his forehead, and sat down at the one seat that wasn't already full. “You know, yeah. They're great. Real... real great.” Beato being this trashed probably meant she was sad about something, though. “What's wrong?”
“Ehhhh?” Crashing down from the ceiling fan, Beato landed stomach-first, gracefully crashing onto what little order remained in the room, her face landing to pout in Battler's. “Me, sad? Never! Look at meeee, don't I look happyyyy?”
“Well, while I've been over here meeting sixty-seven new wild characters-” The instant the number left Battler's mouth, Beato's pout increased in intensity. “What's wrong?”
Beato jumped up onto the table and started walking away from Battler on it, staggering slightly under the force of her inebriation. “Nothing's wrong, unless you're in the mood for a bit of a whipping.” The thought did sound pleasant, he wouldn't lie. “B-besides, anyone who wouldn't come to a party hosted by the great Beatrice isn't worth thinking about anyway.”
“Excuse me, Lady Beatrice.” Genji bowed his head as he entered the room. “Only sixty-six guests appeared at this gathering, Lord Battler.” Beato whined, then tripped and fell onto Gaap's unconscious body.
“Just one missing?” Battler raised his eyebrow. “Which demon would that be?”
Ronove appeared suddenly to add. “Ranked fifty-sixth, the Duchess Gremory. Lady Beatrice was quite fond of Gremory in times past, and was direly hoping that she would come.”
“Roooonooooveeeeeeeee!” Beato shouted, jumping across the chairs and bodies to get in his face. “You aren't supposed to tell him! He's supposed to figure it out!” She groaned loudly at him, and Ronove chuckled his trademark little laugh.
Battler sat back in the chair. This was a good way to distract himself from all this chaos, so he pondered. Just one demon hadn't come to the party? He found himself curious about this 'Gremory', since evidently she was smart enough to avoid all this nonsense.
Of course, wondering like that was a great way to cause something new to happen, so at that moment, Kumasawa called out. “W-we have another guest approaching!” She shouted from the great stairwell. The old woman was staggering on the banister. “I only have so many mackerel jokes!”
“N-no need to worry!” The chef Gohda said, standing guard at the door with his burly body. “I, Gohda, will protect you from whatever foe comes through this door!”
It took a bit, though, so Battler came out to see. “Kanon.” He called. “On me.”
“Right.” The small boy leapt from having just dealt with his opponent from before, his magic blade still active.
“If they're rowdy, cut to kill.” Battler ordered, and Kanon nodded. They fistbumped.
(BGM: Dammi una Sigaretta)
Stepping out of the door, within the firestorm's eye, stood the approaching new guest. Riding atop a camel, she'd dismounted and stopped to inspect the roses. This woman was wholly human-shaped, and tall, about as tall as Battler himself, with long, red hair just a touch more vibrant than Battler's own. She had on a blue and white tricorn hat, a bit narrow, like a naval uniform. She wore a dull red dustcoat (with a few golden spangles,) to defend from the flames, but under it, a baby blue camisole atop a pink t-shirt was almost bafflingly informal and... well, Battler had to admit, a bit downright baffling. It took Battler a second to realize what was strangest about this woman, though, and it was that she was wearing pants. Denim pants, jeans, like were apparently all the rage in America. And then her boots were... those were go-go boots. Battler had seen those in disco clubs before.
When Battler stepped forward into the rose garden to greet this new guest, Kanon's blade at the ready, she turned her head, tilted it strangely over her shoulder, and said, “Rose garden in a firestorm is my aesthetic.”
Battler blinked. “Uh. What?”
“I mean, sure, we got burnt horribly, but, you know, mood.” She shrugged, and patted a bit of singing on her camel. “Nice cape.”
“...Thanks.” Battler nodded. “I... appreciate it.” There was a bit of an awkward pause as Battler used the process of elimination in his head. “...I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you're Duchess Gremory.”
“Lemme guess, Beato's trashed and draking about me?” Gremory snorted. Battler mutely nodded. “Doesn't she know being fashionably late is in these days?”
Kanon, behind Battler, leaned in to whisper and said, “I... don't know what 'draking' means.”
“Just stay calm. Smile and nod.” Battler said. He then cleared his throat. “So, er. Duchess Gremory. Fifty-sixth of the seventy-two demons of Solomon's Key.”
“You even took count?” Gremory whistled. “That's pretty extra, Battler Ushiromiya.”
Hearing his full name from a supernatural being still, even now, always put Battler on edge, and now was no exception. He grimaced, and Kanon's blade roared to life. Gremory threw her hands up in response. “Whoa, whoa, chillax, dudes.” She said. “I come in peace. I'm legit.” She smirked. “I've just heard a lot about you, Battler. Lots of shade. Not all shade. It's just, like, you know, fucking fascinating to meet the man himself.”
Bounding out the door to the manor, faceplanting on the stairs, Beato came charging out, shouting, “Gremoryyyyyyyy!” She was giggling. She was really drunk. “You came, you came! You even brought the camellll!”
If the surreality of the situation wasn't already strong enough for Battler, hearing this woman say, “Hey, Bae.” and accept a hug from the utterly trashed Golden Witch was definitely not helping.
“I haven't seen youuuuu,” Beato hiccuped, “in aaaages, kihihihi!”
“Eh, I've been off. Doing stuff.” Gremory waved her hand. “Tell me about this husband of yours.”
“Battlerrrr?” Beato said, and the two of them got in shoulder-to-shoulder, forming a wall against Battler. Kanon wasn't much help at times like these. “He's an idiot. And he's soooo fucking incompetent. Couldn't even-” She hiccuped again. “Fuckin' gave Erika some duct tape.”
“Wha- hey!” Battler cried, grunting loudly and pointing his finger. “That was- that was all part of my master plan to revive you!”
“Suuuure it was, Battler. Congratulatiooooons.” Beato snorted.
“Anyway, figured I'd be a good party guest and all, so I brought you a present, Battler Ushiromiya.” Gremory nodded to herself. “If I remember anything about the rest of these goons, it's that they've destroyed your house, so I won't come inside or anything.”
A present for Battler, huh? Battler smiled, and a certain fire came into his eyes. “Finally, someone this night is speaking my language.” In just an instant, the parlor around the gameboard materialized, and Battler, now just in his signature suit, sat on one end of the board. Gremory sat on the other side.
Beatrice had casually switched into her dress during the shift, and was now dealing with the fact that she was no longer intoxicated. “Ugh.” She grumbled. “Where am I? Battler, where are we. I-” Then she saw Gremory there, and started sputtering. “G-G-G-G-G-G-G-Gremory?!”
Gremory waved. “Hey again.”
Turning away, Beatrice huffed. “What gave you the idea you were welcome here? And with a gameboard. I bet anything you came up with would be ridiculous.”
“Eh, well, you're not wrong.” Gremory laughed and shrugged. She looked back to Battler. “Bit different when she's sober, isn't she?”
“Beato's a lot more honest when she's drunk.” Battler said, smiling at Beato's turned back. “That said, you did invite her.”
“I did no such thing.” Beatrice stomped. “Who would want to invite this hooligan?”
Gremory clapped. “Anyway, I heard you liked these, so I gave putting one together a shot. Few people told me it was a bit extra, but hey, whatever. Game's a game, and what better way to get to know the famous Battler Ushiromiya.”
“Famous, eh?” Battler smirked. “I love hearing things like that about myself. Do I get any awesome action scenes in this one? I don't know if you ever heard, but there was this one where I saved Beato from this evil detective when she called down Eiserne Jungfrau on us-”
Gremory snorted. “Nope.”
“It was a pretty good time.” Battler said.
“No, I mean you don't get any awesome action scenes in my game.” Gremory said. “Let's see if I've got the hang of this still, so I can make one thing clear...” She cleared her throat, and the world shook, and glowed red.
“In this world, Battler Ushiromiya does not exist.”