The Demon of Wisdom Fears the Lionheart King

On the plain before Spero Castle, a din of every kind of corruption and indulgence writhed through the air.

A man with a grotesque snout lashed out with a whip, while others chopped off pieces of their own flesh and roasted them, or coated prisoners in water made from melted gold.

It was a grotesque scene where excess—luxury, indulgence, pleasure, and corruption—had turned into pure malevolence. Reynald Shellman entered, clutching the Orb of Wisdom.

-It's a human.

-Heh, a human. A human.

-Shut-in losers. Eccentrics who do nothing but read books and keep records!

The demons guessed at the Orb's identity from the aura it gave off. Their savage, leering gazes pierced Reynald.

"Ugh... I-is this all right, O great being?"

[Don't stare too long at those lowly whores. Mortals fall to corruption in no time.]

"Y-yes!"...