“What is he talking about?” Scathach asked everyone.

Right on cue, the answer arrived as a group of visitors graced the front porch.

After several debacles, the gang was familiar with the smell of trouble. Leading the group was a middle-aged man wearing a well-trimmed leather jacket, a necktie, and a bowler hat. By his right was a muscled warrior wearing a breastplate and an uncomfortable expression. Completing the trio was a beast-man with cat ears, green hair, and spectacles marching arrogantly by the left of Mr. bowler hat.

“Ma, the Mayor’s here,” Melody said. “Guildmaster Aion is here too.”

“Let me deal with this,” Ebony said, walking off to handle the problem.

…

“Hello Majestia,” the middle-aged man started. “I need to talk.”

“What brings you here, Port?” Ebony said. A long time ago, she contemplated whether it was a good idea to craft her alias in memory of her husband. In the end, she decided to keep Majesty’s memories alive. For all the love he had, her husband deserved this much.

The uninvited cat-man shoved the mayor asid and answered in his stead.

“Your eviction, of course,” the Catman smugly waved a letter in front of Ebony. “Majestia O’ Mara, you are evicted from this premise with until further notice. You have a day to pack your pitifully belongings and get out of my sight.”

The man in a breastplate, Aion, turned toward the beastman.

“That’s enough, Enma,” Aion said, then painfully glanced at Ebony. “I’m sorry, Maj, but we need you to…”

“Excuse me,” the cat-man cut Aion from the conversation and glared at the Guildmaster in disgust. “Who allows you to speak? Do that one more time, and I will have you remove from your office. You are simply a speck of dirt under my boot, ‘Guildmaster’. Remember that”

Aion bitterly swallowed the rest of his word.

In the back, the Mayor wished he could flee the premised.

“Listen to me, trash,” the cat-man jabbed his finger at Ebony and continued. “I need you to move. Better yet; do me a favor and die in the gutter.” The cat-man peered at the wrecked house. “Speaking of which, what happened to your little mouse hole? Did something explode? Your kind is famous for exploding themselves under stupid reasons, but this is the first time I see a demon burning her own house. Even for your insignificant kind, this is pathetic.”

“What do you want with my place?”

“Not. Your. Concern,” the cat-man jabbed with each syllable. “Now get out. Do you know how hard it is to remove those miserable garbages of my street? You disgusting blood stick so hard I have to dry-clean my boots twice.”

Ebony noticed it.

“I am not the first, am I?”

Aion avoided Ebony’s eyes, but the cat-man decided he had enough.

“What would you trash gain from even knowing!” The cat-man ranted. “Fucking retard like you should be grateful for the scrap we are feeding. Now move out of my sight!”

The cat-man inched back to spit in Ebony’s face. He never had a chance. The demoness pre-emptively struck with her fist. However, Aion’s ‘Guildmaster’ title was there for a reason. With incredible speed, he caught Ebony’s flaming punch with his bare hand.

The cat-man was enraged.

“You dare attack me,” the cat-man screeched. “Aion, beat this bitch up and make her lick my boot as an apology. Do it at once!”

Aion looked conflicted, but in the end, he stepped in front of Ebony threateningly. Thankfully, a person stepped in before things went physical.

“Enough,” the newly freed Cytortia stepped into the ring. The angry cat-man turned toward the girl with insult primed and readied, but immediately stopped the moment the goddess whipped out a black wooden plate. “I hope you recognize this, right?”

The plate bore the symbol of a stylistic tiger’s face amidst the coiling dragon.

The cat-man backed away in fear.

This reaction took everyone by surprise. Ebony looked at the plate and the goddess in disbelief. Aion and Port also recognize the special pass, and they considered diving underground for safety.

“Enma Enterprise VIP pass!” The Catman’s jaw hung open as he felt the pressure from the plate. “Impossible! That must be a fake! Only a highly regard members of Enma Clan can issue that!”

“Sacred Beast Wood can be faked?” Cytortia raised her eyes brows. “Geez, what bullshit. What is your name and which branch do you belong too?”

“Taku Enma of the Yellow Tulip branch,” the cat-man gathered himself. “Answer me! How do you have the clan special issue pass!?”

“Taku, huh,” Cytortia said. “Very well, I will mention your name to Shyme.”

“Shyme!?” Taku nearly keeled over from fright. “Shyme gave you that… but Mistress Shyme only issued a pass for one person. You must be…”

“Yes,” Cytortia said. “Heavenly Daughter Cytortia Tianshang, Rank 33 in the 33 Stars Ranking.”

Taku flashed a look of ridicule, but knowledges of the fox-girl behind the goddess muted him. The cat-man spitefully bowed to the detestable goddess in fear of the monster behind her.

“Lady Tianshang, excuse me for my rudeness, but this is a truly auspicious occasion,” the cat-man gave Cy a door-to-door salesman grade smile. “I will have a suite prepared in our most luxurious…”

“Save the effort,” Cytortia explained. “I am here on an official business transaction, but since Enma clan decide to evict my business partner. I will take my cue and leave. But trust my word, I will bring this issue to Shyme. Don’t bother saying anything else. I already decide to leave Milian within 24 hours.”

“Please, lady Tianshang, allow me to…” Taku scrambled in a panic to salvage the situation.

But Cy already dragged Ebony out.

…

Ebony wasn’t pleased.

“I can handle this,” she said.

“I know,” Cytortia said. “But it will ruin the plan.”

“The plan?” Ebony looked confused. “What plan?”

Cytortia showed a piece of paper Rem left behind before he went to shopping.

‘To Cy, truth is we are in quite a pickle. If the vision is correct, the dragon is right beneath Milian. Logic-wise, the best option is to leave the town, staying under a sleeping dragon is a recipe for disaster. If I am right, the ghost fiasco will attract authority figures. Use that opportunity as an excuse to move our base of operation — it will draw less suspicion that way. Set up a base of operation a few kilometers from Milian. When 5 a.m. arrive, fire one of our emergency fares so I can find you that way.’

Ebony read the note.

“He knows they are coming?” Ebony looked astounded. “Are you sure he don’t have [Clairvoyance]?”

“Trust me, Ebony,” Cytortia said. “You aren’t the first to ask that question.”

…

Several hours later in a deserted area 2 kilometers from Millian.

“At last!” Cytortia dropped several heavy briefcases and laid spread eagle to absorb the sunlight. “I hate camping so much.”

“It only 2KM trek,” Luxinna said, as she finished putting up the camp. “Do you think Rem can find us?”

“He can. The only question is how long,” Scathach checked the stove and handed the exhausted Ebony a spanner. “Is your end set?”

“Do you think setting up a forge in literal nowhere is easy?” Ebony, covered in grime, clay, and dirt, accepted Scathach’s spanner and tossed it at Melody. “Dear, is the hut up to the specification?”

Melody, covered in dirty bandages and dirt, was gently drying a clay-hut with her fires. The demoness had tied her hair in a bun and tossed away her more refine clothing for a tank-top and worker pants. She compared the hut’s height to the spanner.

“Given Ma’s height, about 1.65, 2 meters sound right,” Melody confirmed. “Yes, 16 spanners would do the trick.”

Ebony and Scathach hurried into the clay hut to reassemble the forge.

As for, Melody handed her mother back the spanner and rejoined the girls.

“So, what next?” Cytortia took out a fish fillet and started cutting. “Rem won’t return until five. What do we do now?”

Luxinna had an answer.

“Training,” she said. “If the vision is right, we are up against a Dragon. Something like that won’t go down easily. Rem must know this, that’s why he is hitting the book.”

“Yeah, you need training,” Melody nodded smugly. “You got your ass handed the last time.”

“So do you,” Cytortia pointed out. She finished the fish and started handling a bundle of celery. Luxinna didn’t believe how fast Cy chopping was. Cytortia was, without a doubt, the queen of the kitchen and the test-tube.

“A fluke,” Melody argued. “Who would know he will be throwing house and tear gases?”

“You can try to change the story all you want, but you lost,” Cytortia diced a carrot on her chopping board. “Take it from someone who regularly got her ass booted. The quicker you stop trying to alter what happens in your brain, and accept the fact, is the faster you move on. Change it all you want, but you lost, and will continue losing to Rem.”

“Shut. Up.” Melody got a bag of chip and started munching. “I will take the throne one day.”

“Yeah, and Rem will visit your coronation with a smile and banquet of flowers,” Cytortia snarked. “Get real.”

A distance away, Luxinna sat. She didn’t bother joining their conversation. Instead, she was reflecting on her fight with Melody. Why did Rem win while she fails?

Luxinna opened that battle banking on her speed, but Melody’s [Heavenly Eye] nullified that. Even her range attack got dissected and overpowered by the [Heavenly Eye]. Finally, her all-or-nothing gambit only rewarded her with molten slag and a punch in the face.

Rem didn’t have her magic or speed. His lack of tool forced him to use mind-games, gimmicks, and trickeries to disable Melody’s advantage. Lucian Drakokia, her father, would call them party tricks, but that slap-dash bag-of-tricks brought the invincible [Heavenly Eye] to its knee. It was hard to admit, but strings of words and a run-down house had overpowered magical technique her clan lusted for.

In Luxinna’s view, ingenuity allowed the mortal Remus Breaker to defeat the Princess of demons. Melody was smart. She also had a physically and magically stacked deck. On the other side, Rem got terrible stamina and no super moves to speak off.

So he optimized. Rem was a better cheater. So he cheated with everything he could; speeches, magical eye-poking, illegal house-shot to the head.

Now, Luxinna had to ask herself: how should she optimize?

…

“Hey girls,” Luxinna said, getting up and calling on the bickering Cytortia and Melody. “What is my weakness? I want you guys to answer me honestly? Control is one of them, right?”

Melody arrogantly huffed at the question.

“Yes, your control is shit,” the redhead spoke airily. “You are fast, but you love piling up barrages of attacks you can’t sustain. Your gear design are so outrageously bogus I feel sorry for you.”

“Eh,” Luxinna was shocked at Melody's sudden triad.

Meanwhile, Cytortia blinked. This conversation was reminding her of Kar’Dia.

“Your primary advantage is speed, right?” Melody passionately described. “Seriously, what are you thinking with those armor’s design? Bulky greaves and gauntlets modeled after heavy armor? Those things went out of fashion since the rise of Magical Artillery. Must be hard to look gallant when your entire squadron got shelled to death during those tortoise charges.”

Cytortia and Luxinna stared at the smiling Melody. When did the demoness become this talkative?

“And that last attack,” Melody happily droned on. “Nice concept — supercharged your blade with magic power, contained it and unleashed it all at once. Many advance magic attacks originated from that model, but it won’t work for you. Your lightning is too volatile. Ordinary sword will melt in an instant. Even a specially crafted blade will degrade in days. Unless you have a super sword that trumps even the [SS] rank, that final attack is both wasteful and unreliable. Speaking of it, how does your magic even work? A glass that conducts lightning is one thing, but a beam? Lightning can’t be shot in a beam, that requires a plasma career. And how did the lotus even float anyway? even my [Heavenly Eye] couldn’t work that out.”

Then Melody noticed the two girls looking at her funny.

“What?” The redhead said. “Why are you looking at me? Wait. I recognize those looks,” Melody started panicking. “Oh no, no fucking way, you two are going to do something crazy. Don’t you dare!”

Luxinna and Cytortia looked at each other.

“Where is your alchemy set,” Luxinna got up. “We need to run a test on the beam. Do you have a method to practice magic control?”

“My master drilled some magic control training method to me,” Cytortia said, before running off to find her tool. The goddess stopped and yelled back. “Hey, Mel, call your mom! I have something to show her. World Greatest Sword! Here I come.”

Melody watched the Anarchist Pill Goddess, and her minion went to work devising a new world breaking experiment.

The young demoness cursed her fat mouth and begged the things divine to stop the next ghost hoard.

…

A green-hair Catman and Mayor sweated nervously.

Taku wore the most modest clothes he owned — a garish tuxedo with plain white lining and plaided shirt. He couldn’t help but curse at the consecutive Trainwreck. First, a simple eviction ended with him offending Cytortia Tianshang. Cytortia was a joke, but Shyme was another story.

Then there was this bitch.

The Mayor tucked Taku’s tuxedo nervously.

“What am I supposed to do when she arrives?” the Mayor Port whispered.

“I don’t know,” Taku wasn’t even mad at the lowly Mayor ruffling his tuxedo; the situation was severe. “Just don’t piss her off and do as she pleases. Most of all, remember that Chuang Tianshang’s followers are lunatic who will eat you alive if you look at them funny.”

Right on cue, an ominous flying ship blaring the image of a Pheonix floated down from the sky. It landed without a sound. The ship’s door hissed open, and out of the darkness, a woman in a blue gossamer dress and high-heel walked out. She was beautiful in a way a fire was to a moth, alluring face, enticing movement, and glowing with golden jewelry.

But both Mayor Port and Taku knew better. This woman was a beast.

“Gentlemen,” she opened her arms wide and addressed them. “I, Emissary Illma Zoldia Road, have arrived. I hope you provide the adequate space, I request.”

“We are clearing out the area,” Taku said nervously. “But some former tenants are quite stubborn.”

“Burn them to the ground then,” Illma stated, like she was ordering a cake. “Or my little ones will do it for you.”

A sinister shadow began moving inside the ship.

“Now,” Illma smiled sinisterly to both men's distress. “Tell me out about our dragon.”