Chapter 117 – The Lotus, the Spider, and the Commander.

The Crystal and Fire Tea Parlor was the only highborn establishment nestled on the upper terrace of the Iron Cauldron Outpost.

Located far from the soot of the central cauldrons, the venue was built with beams of dark cedar and crimson silk drapes that let in the valley's warm breeze. It was where major caravan captains and emissaries from other Circles sat to broker ore contracts, away from the bawling mercenaries in the square below.

Diana climbed the parlor's polished wooden stairs accompanied by Zarek.

The Commander was looking for a private booth to drink something warm and study the Level 50 rift map in peace. Beside her, the arachnid demon strolled with his primary hands in his vest pockets, both moon swords sheathed across his back and his four secondary chitinous arms tucked neatly against his ribs.

Diana parted the velvet curtain opening onto the panoramic terrace.

And stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the room.

***

Lounging in the terrace's most spacious VIP booth, settled into a velvet armchair with his long legs stretched across a leather footstool, was Cassian.

The Level 118 man wore an immaculate white silk coat embroidered with silver lotus leaves, holding a cut-crystal goblet of sparkling mana wine.

Hearing the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, Cassian turned his silver-haired face slowly.

His violet eyes settled on Diana.

The Level 118 man froze the crystal goblet in midair. He appraised Diana from head to toe: he saw the imperial black leather coat, the obsidian black nails, the dark eyes with golden rings spinning at the center of her vertical pupils, and the two slender, curved obsidian horns crowning the girl's brow around the amethyst circlet.

Cassian blinked twice in silence.

Then, he let out a laugh so loud, clear, and genuinely delighted that the parlor's attendants turned their heads:

“DIANA?!” Cassian threw his head back, grinning ear to ear. “Look at this little thing! You traded for horns and turned into a proper noble of the abyssal aristocracy! You're even cuter than before!”

Diana felt a vein throb on her forehead beside her right horn, her expression instantly darkening into a scowl.

“Cassian!” Diana took two stiff strides toward the table. “What are you doing in the Third Circle sitting in a teahouse?!”

“My expedition in the sulfur rifts wrapped up two days ahead of schedule thanks to your ninety percent pure elixirs, darling,” Cassian answered with effortless charm, gesturing to an empty seat. “I stopped in for decent wine before heading back to the Ivory Citadel, and lo and behold, I run into you parading around with a crown on your head.”

***

It was at that moment that Zarek took a step forward, emerging from behind Diana.

The arachnid swordsman stepped up to the table with all six eyes gleaming with an unabashed mix of aesthetic curiosity and martial challenge. He sized up the silver-silk-clad man from head to toe, feeling the density of the Level 118 aura saturating the terrace air, yet showing not a sliver of fear.

“Well, well...” Zarek folded two of his secondary arms across his chest, flashing a broad grin of pointed teeth. “A lord dressed in white silk with silver hair. Who is this handsome fellow, Diana? A rival Sin or another candidate for consort in your faction?”

Cassian arched his silver brows, turning his violet eyes toward Zarek.

The Silver Lotus appraised the four chitinous arms, the twin moon steel swords across his back, and the aura of a Level 60 Candidate for the Sin of Wrath radiating from the man.

Cassian huffed a short laugh through his nose, thoroughly amused by the warrior's cheek:

“Candidate for her consort?” Cassian took a sip of the sparkling wine, looking at Zarek with feigned pity: “My dear six-armed demon, your courage is admirable. Attempting to woo Commander Diana is the equivalent of hugging a cast-iron statue wrapped in frostbitten barbs. She understands compound interest, but her romantic sensibilities are on par with a barn door.”

Zarek let out an easy laugh, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table with one leg crossed over the other:

“I enjoy difficult challenges, silver lord. Docile women are boring. I prefer the ones who threaten to slit my throat with ice spikes.”

***

Diana slammed both hands down on the edge of the wooden table so hard that the crystal goblets rattled.

The two obsidian horns atop her head flared with a crackle of azure sparks from her 201 Intelligence.

“COULD THE TWO OF YOU SHUT UP BEFORE I FREEZE THIS ENTIRE TABLE WITH AN ICE LANCE?!” Diana barked, her cheeks flushed with pure embarrassment and annoyance.

—HAHAHAHAHA! The System's voice erupted in her mind in black gold, cackling uncontrollably. This is the most ridiculous negotiation table in the entire history of Hell! A Level 118 lord and a Level 60 swordsman trading jokes about your total lack of romantic finesse!

SYSTEM, LEAVE ME ALONE! Diana snarled internally, dragging over a chair and sitting down with crossed arms and a sour glare.

Cassian poured a glass of wine for Diana and another for Zarek with a fluid flick of his wrist, chuckling at the girl's fury:

“Drink some wine, Diana. It will help cool that Archdemon temper of yours.”

Cassian's tone shifted then, becoming sober and strategic:

“If you are hunting in this sector's Level 50 rifts, you need to know about an opportunity opening in the city next week.”

Diana took a sip of the wine, alert. “What opportunity?”

“The captain of Beelzebub's Inquisitor garrison, Inquisitor Vaelor (Level 65), is hosting the Red Cauldron Tournament at the border arena,” Cassian explained, his voice dropping into practical gravity. “It's an elite pairs and solo competition for mercenaries. The grand prize for whichever team clears the Level 40-50 bracket is a Permanent Official Transit Pass with Customs Exemption between the Second and Third Circles.”

Diana fixed her dark eyes on the Level 118 man.

An Official Transit Pass with Customs Exemption.

That was the exact legal key she needed to cross back over the border and bring Rhea, Kael, Aurelia-Elysia, and Seraphina down into the Third Circle in broad daylight, without paying under-the-table smuggler fees.

“An arena tournament...” Diana murmured, the golden rings in her pupils glimmering with calculated ambition.

“You and your six-armed friend would make quite a splash in that arena.” Cassian winked, rising gracefully from his armchair and tossing a silver coin onto the table to cover the entire booth tab. “Think it over, darling. Registration opens on Monday.”

Cassian snapped his fingers, dissolving into his signature swirl of silver lotus petals that scattered across the terrace wind.

***

Silence fell over the wooden table.

Zarek downed the rest of his mana wine, swirling the goblet between his claws with a wide grin:

“An official arena tournament to shatter bones in front of an entire crowd and win a border pass... Count me in as your combat duo, Commander.”

Diana looked down at the crystal goblet in her hand, then out toward the horizon of the cauldron city.

The route to reunite her faction was drawn.

“We register for the tournament on Monday, Zarek,” Diana said firmly. “Be ready.”