"Alright, let's eat!" Morn exclaimed enthusiastically.
Xiandre and Amelia picked up their spoons and took a bite of the dish Morn had ordered for them.
"This is Elysium's Bane. It's made using the flesh of the crops from Hell—specifically the Lifespan Fruit. Each bite gives you a year of life. It's turned into black rice, which is what we're eating today," Morn explained.
"It tastes... bland. Like it has no flavor at all," Xiandre remarked, puzzled.
"What? That's impossible! It's supposed to be sweet with a touch of salt—like a piece of Heaven through Hell's agony!" Morn replied in disbelief.
"This is soooo good!" Amelia suddenly blurted out, practically glowing with satisfaction. "It's sweet and beautiful! I could eat this every day and still crave more!"
"Wait, really?" Xiandre asked.
"Yes! Here!" Amelia scooped a spoonful and fed it to Xiandre directly—using the same spoon, creating an indirect kiss.
Xiandre chewed the food thoughtfully, then swallowed.
"Still nothing. Even with your... added flavor, it tastes bland to me," Xiandre said, confused.
"Uwaa...??" Amelia gasped in confusion and slight embarrassment.
"Try the Crimson Velvet," Morn said, handing over the large crimson drink with two straws.
Amelia and Xiandre both sipped from it at the same time, each using their own straw. Amelia's eyes widened at the taste and the romantic tension, her cheeks flushing. She bit her straw in excitement, flattening it.
Xiandre sighed and handed her his straw.
Without hesitation, Amelia took it and drank eagerly, her face now beet red.
"Uwaaa... Xiandre's saliva touched this straw I'm drinking from…!" she squealed inwardly.
"So? How did it taste?" Morn asked.
Xiandre shook his head. "Still bland. Like water. Just like the Elysium's Bane."
"I see..." Morn muttered. Then, with a sudden grin, he grabbed Xiandre by the tie. "Come with me!"
He dragged Xiandre out of the restaurant, tossing some money on the table. Amelia followed behind, still clutching the Crimson Velvet drink.
"Eh? Where are we going now?" she asked.
"To Inferno Brew!" Morn declared.
"But you didn't even drank your own crimson velvet" Xiandre responded.
Inside Lucifeast, Ixalia watched them leave, completely spaced out.
"I wonder where they're going..." she pondered aloud—only to get whacked in the head with a frying pan.
"Ack—! Whadda heck?!"
"What are you spacing out for now?" her manager, Finnia, scolded.
"Manager Finnia!? S-Sorry! I'll go deliver the next orders now!" Ixalia yelped as she ran off.
Finnia sighed, watching her go. "Seriously, is she ever going to confess to Morn? He's been throwing himself at her since forever."
Back in The castle of grimore...
The queen strode down the red carpet to her throne. From atop the dais, Princess Millie spotted her and rushed down, throwing herself into her mother's arms.
"Mother! Where's father?" Millie asked eagerly.
"The king is in the Kingdom of Gurami. He's trying to form an alliance ahead of the coming war."
"War!? With who?" Millie's face turned pale.
"The Dragon Lord has declared war—and he's allied with demons," the queen explained grimly.
Millie staggered. "Demons from Hell?! We're screwed if that's true—"
"Fortunately, these demons are from the Demonic Continent, not Hell," the queen clarified.
Millie exhaled in relief, then marched back to her throne with a stern expression. "That makes things slightly better... but the Dragon Lord still overpowers us. We're not safe yet."
"That's why your father is searching for a powerful ally," the queen continued, taking her seat.
At that moment, Goddess Fillia entered the throne room.
"Oh? Your Majesty, you've returned," she said softly.
The queen immediately bowed. "Goddess Fillia! I didn't know you had arrived!"
"Mother!" Millie turned to Fillia with excitement. "She summoned people from another world! The Holy Knights and Heroes will fight for us! They're the only ones who can defeat the Eldritch God of Profanity!"
The queen blinked in shock. "Is this true?"
Fillia gave a gentle smile. "Fufu... why would she lie about something like that?"
"I see..." The queen sat back down to her throne, finally allowing herself to relax. "Then it seems Heaven is on our side... this time."
Back in Hell...
Xiandre sipped tea at Inferno Brew—and found it just as tasteless.
"I guess it's no use," he muttered. "Probably because I'm undead now."
Amelia took a sip of his tea and smiled at the refreshing flavor.
"I guess there's truly no way to make you taste again," Morn said, defeated.
Xiandre stood up. "Amelia, let's go."
"Okay," she said, standing with him.
As they left, Morn followed a few steps behind.
"So, where to now?" he asked.
"Lucifer's mansion. I bet you know someone who can help us get past him easily," Xiandre replied, glancing back.
"Oh yeah... The best blacksmith in all of Hell—Tubal Cain."
Morn led them to a nearby smithy. The three stepped inside, the sound of metal clashing ringing through the air.
A massive demon stood at the anvil—broad-shouldered, iron-chested, his muscles bulging like he was carved from stone. His hammer fell with thunderous force on the flaming metal.
"Yo, Tubal! What's up?" Morn called out.
"You again? What do you want this time?" Tubal's voice was deep, rough, his face stoic.
"This time, I brought company," Morn replied, gesturing to Xiandre and Amelia.
Tubal paused briefly, then continued hammering. "Who are they?"
"People sent by Paimon," Morn answered. "From another world. Survivors of the previous world's Door."
Tubal stopped again. He pulled a small black key from his pocket and tossed it to Morn.
Xiandre pulled out a bag of infernite stones and threw it toward Tubal, who caught it without looking and resumed hammering.
Morn signaled them to follow as he headed to a back door. They descended into the basement, where a single door stood—locked.
"What is this place?" Xiandre asked.
"This? This is where Tubal keeps the strongest armor and weapons ever forged in Hell," Morn said as he unlocked it and stepped inside.
Xiandre and Amelia followed.
Inside the chamber, the walls were forged from gold. Armor sets lined the room, ranging from pure gold to diamond-laced suits, while swords gleamed with blades made from refined diamond.
"Welcome, otherworlders, to the Room of Devilry Equipment," Morn announced with a sweeping gesture.
Xiandre's eyes wandered across the divine collection. Each armor radiated immense power—some pulsed with heat, others shimmered with a cold, unyielding glow.
"You can each choose one armor set and one weapon," Morn said. "That goes for you too, Amelia."
Amelia's left eye glowed with a flaming blue hue as she activated her magic to analyze the gear. Meanwhile, Xiandre silently walked through the room, his fingers twitching in midair as he opened his system interface.
"Configuration procedure... System," Xiandre muttered.
A holographic display flared to life before him. With a flick of his fingers, he scanned each armor, manipulating their power levels and potential through the system's evaluation tools.
[System Scan]
Dark Knight Armor: Forged from (Adamantium.
A virtually indestructible metal—immune to all forms of conventional destruction.
Only cosmic-level entities or reality-warping powers may alter or destroy it.)
"I found it," Xiandre said as he turned.
Standing beside him was the Dark Knight Armor—its adamantium surface a deep obsidian black. The mantle draped over its helmet was Gray, and the cape, stitched from kevlar cloth, hung heavy with solemn dignity. A gray scarf made of the same material wrapped the neck plate.
It was imposing, perfect to conceal his undead gray skin—and flawless in its defense.
Xiandre grasped the armor from its stand effortlessly.
"Xiandre..." Morn stepped forward. "That armor is known as the Unliftable Armor—worn by Lucifer himself during the War Against the Heavens. It was made for Seraphim and higher deities. No mortal or demon has ever lifted it."
"I see," Xiandre replied as he equipped the armor piece by piece.
Just as he was about to don the helmet, Amelia called out.
"Guys..." Her voice carried a note of uncertainty.
Xiandre paused and tossed the helmet toward Morn, who caught it. He turned toward her, concern flickering in his eyes.
Amelia sighed deeply. "I can't wear any of this. I know it sounds stupid, but none of these feel right. In fact, I don't think I can use any of them."
She raised her hand as her own system interface appeared.
[System Notification]
(Current physical condition: stamina levels insufficient for melee or ranged combat. Equipping armor or weaponry is highly inadvisable.)
"In the past few days, ever since we started traveling through Hell, my body's changed... I've gotten weaker. My stamina's shot. I can't fight like I used to," she confessed.
"I see." Xiandre nodded, understanding heavy in his gaze.
"We'll need to find you something better suited—maybe that Velmora person Morn mentioned can help with your attire," Xiandre offered.
"Yeah... that might work," Amelia replied, forcing a small smile.
Turning back, Xiandre approached Morn again, retrieved his helmet, and placed it firmly on his head. Now fully clad in the armor of a fallen Seraph, he looked more like a god than a man.
His eyes then locked on a statue in the chamber—Lucifer, cast in stone, wearing the very same armor. In the statue's hands was a blade—gleaming, untouched by time.
Xiandre approached it.
Without hesitation, he took the sword from the statue's grip and held it up. The adamantium blade hummed faintly in his armored palm.
"This sword... is the one I want," he said.
"That sword was forged with the same Adamantium as your armor," Morn explained. "It was wielded by Lucifer during the celestial war. And yes, just like the armor, it should be impossible to lift by anyone but a Seraph or deity."
"Then I guess I'm neither," Xiandre replied, a sharp smirk hidden beneath his helm. "Thanks for confirming."
"Looks like you're all suited up now," Morn chuckled, clearly impressed.
"You look so cool, Xiandre," Amelia added, a slight blush on her face.
"Thanks," Xiandre said simply.