"Star Demon...?"
Seth repeated, the name feeling both strange and ominous on his tongue.
His expression was a mix of confusion and a deep, unsettling intrigue.
Phoebe simply shrugged, a gesture of helplessness.
"That's all I know—the name. My mentor mentioned it in passing as a reason to stay far away. She wouldn't tell me more, and I didn't dare to ask. Some knowledge is too dangerous to possess."
This didn't make sense to Seth.
It seemed like a glaring problem the authorities should have handled.
He leaned forward, his voice low and serious.
"Wait, if the leader of the Iron Jackals openly worships a demon, why is the gang still operating? Shouldn't the Coven of Solace, or any of the official covens, have wiped them off the map by now? That seems like their whole reason for existing—to deal with demonic threats."
Phoebe let out a soft, bitter laugh.
"You're thinking like an outsider, Seth. The world isn't that simple."
She paused, gathering her thoughts.
"Think of it like this: the Covens are like the city guard, and the Iron Jackals are a powerful gang. The guard has the strength to crush the gang, but it would be a bloody, messy war that would destroy entire city districts and cost countless lives. The Covens have the power, but they don't have unlimited resources."
She began counting off reasons on her fingers.
"First, the Iron Jackals are careful. They don't perform their rituals in the open town square. They hide their activities well. Without undeniable, public proof of demon-worship, the Covens can't justify launching a full-scale purge. It would look like an unprovoked attack."
"Second..."
She continued.
"The Iron Jackals are useful. You heard what I said about them sometimes working as information gatherers for the Covens. They have their fingers in every shadow of this city. The Covens might turn a blind eye to their... other businesses... in exchange for crucial information about rogue demons or other threats. It's a dirty, unofficial agreement."
"Third, and this is the most important part..."
Phoebe said, her voice dropping to a near whisper.
"The 'Star Demon' isn't some common, mindless beast that just appeared. My mentor hinted it's something ancient and incredibly powerful. A being like that... confronting its worshipper directly could be like poking a sleeping dragon. The Covens might be powerful, but they might also be afraid. They might be choosing to contain the threat by monitoring the Jackals, rather than risking a confrontation that could unleash something they can't control."
She looked at Seth, her eyes full of grim reality.
"So, they're left in a stalemate. The Covens don't act because it's too risky and the Jackals are sometimes useful. The Jackals survive because they're careful, connected, and protected by the fear of what their patron might do. It's a rotten balance, but it's the one that keeps this city from exploding into open war."
Seth fell silent, processing everything.
The world was far more complicated and politically treacherous than he had imagined...
It wasn't a simple story of heroes and villains, but a tangled web of power, fear, and dirty compromises.
"You're quite smart sometimes."
Seth remarked, almost to himself.
Phoebe blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
But Seth just shook his head, offering a small, non-committal smile.
He didn't explain that her analysis had revealed a depth he hadn't expected from someone who could be so clumsy.
It was better to keep some thoughts to himself.
Phoebe, slightly flustered, quickly switched the topic back to their immediate goal.
"Tonight's the night..."
She said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"My uncle's son, Anthony, has his piano lessons, and his mother, Alisha, always accompanies him. My uncle is almost never home on weekday evenings; he's always out on 'business.' That means the only person left in the house should be his daughter, Alyanna. It's the perfect time to sneak in and look for strange things we can use against them..."
Seth was silent as he considered the risks.
"Alright."
He agreed with a single nod.
"I'll go in. You keep watch outside. If anything looks wrong, give me a signal."
...
Later that evening, under the cover of a moonless night, they stood in the shadows across from the imposing two-story house.
Just as Phoebe had predicted, they watched as her aunt Alisha and cousin Anthony left, heading down the street.
A single light was on in an upstairs room—presumably where Alyanna was.
"Be careful..."
Phoebe whispered, her face tense with worry.
"My cousin Alyanna... she's a witch too. I don't know the extent of her powers."
Seth simply nodded.
He activated his [Null Presence], feeling the familiar sensation of his own significance fading from the world.
He was like a ghost as he slipped across the street and scaled the same oak tree he'd seen Phoebe use before, landing silently on the balcony.
The door was locked, but the simple latch was no match for the lock-picking tools Phoebe had lent him.
With a soft click, he was inside.
The first thing that hit him was the smell.
It was a thick, stale odor—a mix of old food, unwashed laundry, and something faintly sour, like spoiled milk.
The house was the opposite of the tidy, if poor, home Phoebe kept.
This place was drowning in neglect...
Seth could not help but scrunch up his nose.
He moved through the upper hallway, his boots sticking slightly to the grimy floorboards.
The silence was heavy, broken only by the faint sound of music from behind the door with the light—Alyanna's room.
The rest of the floor was a disaster.
He passed a bathroom where a towel was moldering on the floor and the sink was stained with rust.
Further down, a small sitting area was buried under piles of yellowed newspapers and discarded clothes.
He focused on what he assumed was the master bedroom—Fredero's domain.
Pushing the door open, the stench grew stronger.
The room was a pigsty...
Expensive-looking clothes were thrown over a chair and spilled onto the floor, mingling with empty food trays and dusty bottles.
The bedsheets were rumpled and stained.
It was the room of someone who had given up, someone whose outward ambition hid a deep personal squalor.
Seth began his search, carefully moving through the chaos.
He sifted through drawers filled with junk, overturned piles of paper, and checked under the lumpy mattress.
He found financial records and contracts, but they were scattered and coffee-stained.
Nothing felt organized or deliberately hidden... it all just felt messy.
Then, his fingers, brushing through the back of a drawer cluttered with broken pens and loose change, touched something cold and smooth.
It was out of place...
He carefully pulled it out, wiping a layer of dust from its surface.
It was a small, exquisitely crafted statue, a stark contrast to the filth surrounding it.
It depicted a woman of breathtaking beauty, her face carved with an expression of serene authority.
She wore an ornate crown, not on her head, but tied to her waist like a bizarre belt.
Most striking of all, she was seated proudly atop a heavily laden camel.
The detail was incredible, but the imagery was utterly strange.