Baator Hell Promotion

Hap didn't care at all. The knight lords of the Sassen family were no longer alive, and they couldn't jump down from the seventh heaven to hit him with a hammer.

Besides, it's not me who's brought the most disgrace upon the Sassen family, but your descendants behind the scenes. Harp thought, pausing at the double wooden doors of Lord Bansey's bedroom. A deep, sinister aura, invisible to ordinary people, seeped from the doorway like water dripping down the back of his neck.

Perhaps what even the other members of the Sassen family didn't realize was that they themselves found excuses such as "not to disturb the sick Lord Bansay" and subconsciously refused to cross the door.

And behind the door is the culprit who delayed the little devil's return.

The mahogany door opened silently before Harp, who took a deep breath and walked towards his inevitable fate.

The only light in the room came from a short candle on the desk. This comfortable and luxurious abode, decorated with clean linen, duck down pillows, and valuable furniture, with the air filled with the mingled scent of herbs and decay, resembled a tomb dug up by grave robbers. And in the center of this magnificent tomb, Bensay Sassen lay, awaiting death, on a four-poster bed. The old knight's face was hidden in the shadows, but the imp, who could see in the dark, could see it. Even in his sleep, his face twitched unconsciously.

"My most loyal subordinate, dear Harold, you are finally back." As if suddenly discovering the existence of the little devil, a figure who was cutting herbs facing the candle suddenly turned around and greeted with surprise, like a good uncle seeing his favorite junior.

"Most cunning Lady Charlotte, the little devil Harold sends you greetings from the depths of the Nine Hells. May the saliva on your tongue remain ever poisonous." Harp, also known as Harold, was sweating profusely. Harold was part of the little devil's real name, and Charlotte calling him that indicated his rage was nearing breaking point. Deserting one's post wasn't a particularly serious offense, but any violation of the rules (if not one's own) was enough to displease the order-conscious devil.

Charlotte put down the herbs in her hand. The candlelight only illuminated half of his body. Compared to the devil, the pale and thin Charlotte looked more like a nerd who stayed in the house all day. Knee-high boots and a wide brown robe covered his goat's hooves and tail. His black hair was tied with a forehead protector to hide the horns on his head. If it weren't for his abnormally yellow pupils, almost no one would notice anything wrong with him from his appearance.

"You'd better have a good reason to explain why you disappeared for two weeks." Charlotte pinched the back of the chipmunk's neck and lifted it up to the level of his bloodless face. Her reptilian vertical pupils stared at it without blinking, making the little devil's blood run cold.

"Nothing can be hidden from you, my wise lord." Harp suppressed the urge to struggle and said in his sweetest voice, "I went to scout the surrounding area. After my investigation, I found that there are no annoying servants nearby who can hinder your plan. You know, I am just a skinny little guy. Staying by your side would only be a hindrance. For your grand plan, I must do everything I can to demonstrate my efforts."

Charlotte glared at it. Hap knew very well that he didn't want to hear the reason at all, nor did he really want to know where he had been. He was just showing off his power.

"Wrong answer, little devil." Harp responded with a sharp sting of pain, a wooden-handled silver awl nearly piercing him from bottom to top. But that wasn't the end of it. Charlotte smirked and spun the awl, calmly yet madly admiring the chipmunk's face as it lost its voice in pain.

Then Charlotte threw the chipmunk high into the air, did a big spin on the spot, and kicked it out of the door like a ball.

The little devil slammed against the wooden sculpture hanging in the corridor, and before he landed, the door closed again.

Harp was paralyzed by the pain. Charlotte knew that the little devil was a resilient creature, and his punishment wasn't fatal. For Harp, the wound was secondary; the most troublesome thing was the material of the awl lodged in his body.

For the residents of the Nine Hells, unprotected contact with silver is like a mortal touching a red-hot iron with his bare hands. The little devil can almost smell his internal organs sizzling. The evil power of hell used to protect and repair the body is competing with the silver. The little devil, who is on the battlefield between the two sides, almost fainted the moment he pulled out the awl.

"I am Jiuyu, Charlotte, just wait for me." Hap had only time to think of this before his eyes went dark and he fainted.

Chapter 4: Quiz Game

Hap was almost woken up by the pain, and the moment he woke up he realized something was wrong.

Instead of lying on the cold stone floor or being hung by Charlotte from a crucible, it lay in a fine metal bowl padded with white linen. Its wounds were carefully bandaged, and it even had half a walnut shell stuffed under its head as a pillow. The only problem was that the bowl was made of silver, and a cloth strap mixed with silver thread was tied to its left paw, attached to a heavy silver candlestick. All simple and effective ways to deal with the devil.

"Are you awake?" Hap turned his head and saw a man and a woman sitting at the table, both human. Hap happened to know these two people - the two children of the Sassen family.

The voice came from Claire Sassen, the youngest daughter of the Sassen family, and the short figure next to her was her brother, Edim. Hap had only glimpsed these two Sassen family members from afar, as they had nothing to do with the mission.

"Thank you very much," the chipmunk said, standing on his two hind paws and bowing like a human. "I am Hap the Chipmunk, and I don't know how to address you two distinguished gentlemen."

"Stop it, little devil. Don't try this on me. We all know what's under your skin." Claire stood up and interrupted Hap.

"Wait a minute, Claire, what are you doing?" Edim stopped him. He looked at his sister suspiciously. "When you asked me to bring him back, you didn't say he was a little devil."

"Don't be so naive, my dear brother!" Claire rolled her eyes quickly and approached the little devil. Hap also looked at her. By human standards, Claire Sassen was quite beautiful. She had a heart-shaped face, her fair complexion accentuated by her dark hair. While her features were not delicate, the confidence radiating from her amber eyes was befitting her age, making her look like an apple just beginning to turn red. Anyone who looked at her could sense the vibrant energy within her.

"Haven't you guessed it long ago? There must be something wrong with father's personal pharmacist. Then, could this little fur ball beside him be a fairy from the Peach Blossom Land?"

Claire bent down, fiddling with an awl in her hand—the same one she had pulled out of Hap. Edim said nothing more, but Hap could see that he didn't approve of Claire's association with the devil.

Differences lead to rifts, and rifts lead to hatred. Hap twitched his nose and thought, then bowed to Claire again and said:

"Forgive my ignorance, but I just realized that the person I'm talking to is a noble Oathsworn."

As soon as Claire bent down, the little devil understood why he had been trapped with such expert skill. Only at this close distance could he see a mole hidden in Claire's eyebrow, with a faint symbol carved into it. Hap didn't recognize the symbol, but such a thing was only possessed by those who had signed a pact with beings from other worlds, more commonly known as warlocks.

Claire's face darkened. She straightened up, pointed the awl at Harp and said,

"I don't mind pinning you to the ground again, so I ask and you answer, understand?"

Hap smiled a harmless, furry smile and replied:

"Once again, I sincerely thank you for saving me, but as you know, I am a little devil. Even if I answer your question, how can you confirm that what I said is true?"

Claire opened her mouth but said nothing. Hap had guessed correctly; sorcerers were all seekers of power. No matter which being this young spellcaster had signed a pact with, the boon he'd received probably wouldn't be a non-combat spell like Lie Detection—the sorcerers also had to consider the return on investment.

"I suggest we play a game," the little devil said, trying to sit on his hind legs. He carefully avoided his wounds in front of the two Sassens, and carefully wrapped himself in linen to avoid touching the silverware. "One question at a time. Friendships begin with understanding each other."

"I will not accept any agreement with you," Yidim flatly refused. Obviously, he at least understood that no one who made a deal with the devil would have a good ending.

Hap didn't care. A foolish yet determined man like Edim was hard to influence. From his thin lips pressed into a line to his furrowed brows, he was resisting the little devil. But there were many smart people in the world, and even more willing to make deals.

"Of course you two have your doubts," the little devil said, lying down comfortably, his head poking out from under the sackcloth like a lump of butter spilling out of white bread. "Excuse me, but we are on the same side now. I was injured like this by that pharmacist you mentioned."

"To thank you both and to express my sincerity, I will first share one of the most important pieces of information. Perhaps you have already guessed that your father, Lord Bansai, has fallen. And the one who seduced him into corruption was the personal pharmacist you all know."

Edim still didn't say anything, his strong and handsome face was expressionless, and Hap suspected that he might not understand the long sentences.

"This isn't particularly significant information; it just confirms our suspicions," Claire said, caressing the awl. As a spellcaster, she was confident she wouldn't be led astray by the little devil. "It's a good start, though. First question: who is the pharmacist? Or rather, what is he?"

"Ah, dear Miss Sassen, verifying its authenticity is crucial information," Hap said, briskly changing the subject, covering his face with his tail. "Her name is Charlotte, and she comes from the second layer of Baator. Ancient mages called Charlotte's people Fallagon, meaning debt collectors or harvesters."

"What's his weakness?" Claire asked.

"That's the second question," the little devil said, "Now it's my turn. How did you find me?"

Claire smiled complacently and spread out her right hand, which had a purple eye pattern drawn on it.

"You don't think I don't care about my father at all, do you? I placed a surveillance spell on the holy emblem of the Perfect Person across from the bedroom. The moment you touched it last night, I had Edim bring you here."

The little devil suddenly realized and felt a dull pain in his back again. It seemed that he had hit the wooden holy emblem yesterday.

"It's a very risky but also smart move. After all, the Perfect Man protects all humans. Charlotte doesn't dare to examine his holy emblem carefully." The little devil praised sincerely, and then answered her question seriously.

"I don't know how powerful you are, but I suggest you give up on fighting Charlotte. As a demon, Charlotte doesn't need food or water. He can dance in flames and drink deadly poison. Weapons made of ordinary metals rarely leave scars on his skin, and even most mages can't affect him with magic."

"And the most crucial point is that Fallagorn is the most special even among demons. They are the direct executors of the original contract. Reaping souls is the mission assigned to them by Hell. As long as they don't actively harm others, any living or dead creature in this world will lose their fighting spirit when they attack them."

The Sassen siblings looked at each other worriedly, but this not-so-intense reaction made Hap think that they must have a trump card, so he simply asked directly.

"My question is, how are you going to beat Charlotte?"

Chapter 5: The Cause of Fall

"Do you know a powerful exorcist, or do you have some secret treasure that can drive out visitors from other worlds?" the little devil asked. "Or is there a perfect bishop nearby?"

Claire hesitated for a moment, hesitating. Finally, the girl knocked on the table, directing the little devil to look. Hap leaned over the edge of the silver bowl and looked down. He saw an embroidered tablecloth between the silver bowl and the table. It was embroidered with various abstract designs in gold and silver thread, and there were several symbols that made him feel glaring at first glance.

"It looks like a summoning rune," Hap said hesitantly. The most common job for imps in Hell is to serve as consultants to various evil spellcasters. Most imps are not lacking in arcane knowledge, but this tablecloth is a bit unfamiliar to him. "But it's not one I know. Do you know how to use it?"

Hap had a reason to ask this. No matter what Claire thought, in Hap's eyes, she was at most a sorcerer who had just graduated from the novice school and should not be able to control this rune.

"This is a family heirloom left to us by our grandmother," Claire replied. "Legend has it that wearing it can prevent demonic possession. When any of the Sassen family is threatened by evil, angels will come to our aid."

It sounded like a fairy tale told by an old grandmother to trick her children, and Hap sneered in his heart.

"I need a closer look. Please put me higher up." Claire reached out to grab the chipmunk, but was stopped again by Edim. With a blank expression, he grasped the silver candlestick with one hand and held the other out in front of Hap. Hap had no doubt that if he refused, the silver candlestick would be smashed on his head like a meteor hammer.

The chipmunk hopped lightly onto his large palm, letting out a squeak of pain as it landed. Edim's calloused hands were big enough to crush him to pieces, but Hap preferred to stay in his grasp. Claire was a sorcerer, and there was no telling what would happen if he came into contact with her.

As his perspective improved and changed, Hap overturned his own judgment. This tablecloth was not some kind of psychological comfort. The pattern on it was roughly arranged into several layers of nested concentric circles. The embroidery between each layer was not a pattern, but a very ancient text. This also explained why the two humans needed to ask him questions.

With Claire's level, she probably doesn't even know which end to read it from.

"It's the language of the Celestial Realm," Hap said, and seeing Claire's distrustful expression, he added, "Of course I know the language of the enemies of Hell."

"Pure water that has been exposed to the morning sun for at least a week, the tears of a child's heartfelt laughter, frankincense offered on the altar of the good gods, flawless liquid light..." The little devil carefully identified the words on the outermost circle, "These are the ingredients needed to summon those hypocrites above."

Edim's hands tightened a little, and Hap tactfully stopped commenting.

"...a pious virgin prays for three hours with good thoughts. Even when evil comes, it will be immune to all evil." The silver-gray chipmunk concluded. "Well, the good news is that it is indeed your heirloom, and it requires no magic to activate. The bad news is that even if you have all those demanding ingredients, I don't know what will be summoned."

Claire's eyes rolled, and Hap could read from her expression that she did not lack confidence in the summoning ritual.

"You don't have to worry about that. You just said that the reaper demon won't harm any living creature in the world. Can the angel do that?"

Happy shook his front paw at Claire and said, "That's another problem. It's my problem now."

The chipmunk was silent for a long time, so long that Claire was about to reach out and poke him, before the little devil spoke:

"I won't ask any questions this time, in exchange for a promise. You must promise to protect my life and never, under any circumstances, initiate or instruct anyone to harm me."

Edim tightened his fingers again, but Claire stopped him by holding his wrist.

"We promise you, but our promise only lasts until the Reaper returns to Hell. If your father dies before then, you still have no value in living."

"A wise choice, Miss Claire." The chipmunk twisted in the iron-like grip, trying to make himself more comfortable. He was amused by the rage hidden beneath Edim's calm face. "Of course the Harvester will be harmed by the angels. The Primordial Contract only protects him from mortals. But I must correct one thing. It may not be an angel. It could be a fairy, a Gadin, a winged serpent, or any other shiny thing. But at least they can kill that arrogant bastard Charlotte. This is the result I most hope for."

Claire looked very satisfied. She got the answer she wanted most. Just when she was about to ask the next question, Edim took the lead.

"Why did Father fall?" asked the brown-haired young man. "He has believed in the perfect man his entire life. He has no reason to believe in the wealth or power you promised."

Your sister is much more honest and won't ask these questions about the cause and effect. Hap muttered to himself, but he still answered the question.

"You underestimate the power of the Nine Hells. Gold, love, power, knowledge, even a crown—what can we not give you? Even your wish to go to Heaven is not something we wouldn't consider, as long as you're willing to pay the price."

"Dear Lord Bansai holds a high position and is a devout follower of the Perfect One. Why would he send away all the priests and paladins within a month? What can we offer that the Perfect One doesn't? What does he care about most? Think about it; it's not that difficult."

"Honor and family go hand in hand," Yidim recited the family motto. "You're lying. My father has long been honored, and he no longer cares about personal fame."

Hap narrowed his eyes and stared into Edim's amber eyes, which were no different from his sister's, and then he showed an expression of shock and disbelief.

"Is there something wrong with the family itself?"

"A month ago, Lord Bansey truly had nothing to ask for but to wait for the final day," Hap said. "Charlotte passed on a message to him through an informant, and this message made it difficult for him to face death calmly."

Hap paused dramatically, observing the anxious expressions of the two siblings with a sense of contentment.

"The informant conveyed a prophecy to Lord Bansai: 'Your wife has betrayed you, the bloodline of Sassen has been tainted, and your family will be destroyed.'" Hap recited.

"Ms. Dinah?" Claire screamed in disbelief. "My stepmother betrayed my father? Impossible!"

"Lord Bansay thought so too. He almost called the guards," Hap continued. "But Charlotte performed a divination in front of him and asked him to ask the Perfect Man three questions: Did my wife betray me? Is my bloodline tainted? Is the devil in front of me lying? The answer to the first two questions was yes, but the answer to the last one was no."

"What else could poor Lord Bansey do? For the sake of his family's honor, he couldn't admit your little brother wasn't his own, nor could he execute your stepmother outright. He certainly couldn't leave these matters, which would likely draw ridicule and attacks, to his heirs. Charlotte offered him what he desired most, something the priest would never promise him—extended life and revenge."

The room fell into a long silence, and finally, Edim spoke hoarsely:

"What are you going to do with Lady Dinah and her child, and what price did my father pay?"

Author's words: I'll add an update to celebrate the cover release~

Chapter 6 Madam and Sir

"Edim, dear, are you okay?" Dina's worried voice sounded, and the man suddenly raised his head, and everyone at the table was looking at him.

"Nothing, I was just distracted, ma'am." Edim nodded apologetically, put down the wooden spoon that was about to break in his hand, and tried to turn his attention back to the bowl of porridge in front of him. Dinah looked at him worriedly for a moment, until Claire pulled her hand, and then she turned to speak to Claire.

Two days had passed since he'd communicated with the little devil. He'd secretly hoped the little devil was simply lying to save his own skin. However, as Claire indirectly verified the authenticity of the summoning runecloth through her own methods, the faintest hope that the little devil was lying vanished.

Edim looked at Dinah, not much older than Claire, with bright blue eyes, a plump figure, and a calm demeanor. In his nineteen years, Edim had never imagined encountering such a complex situation, and he couldn't help but wonder if Dinah knew what fate would befall her and her child, Levi.

The little devil's words are still ringing in my ears.

"Your father doesn't have to pay anything. As Lady Dinah's master, he has already promised Charlotte her child's soul as a sacrifice. The bastard who tainted her bloodline in exchange for his life is a good deal."

As for Ms. Dinah, the little devil didn't mention it, but I guess it won't be that good.

However, Edim could do nothing. Given the current situation, the most important thing for him and Claire was to prepare before the Reaper Demon performed the ritual. Once the demon exchanged Levi's life for his father's, they could expel him. Anything that tarnished the family's honor would be buried in the past.

The knight watched Claire. She ate quickly, barely swallowing the last mouthful of porridge before she stood up, bowed hastily, and left. Edim had known from the day Claire married his father that Lady Dinah had disregarded her, let alone listened to her teachings. Especially now that a powerful magical artifact awaited her research, Claire's willingness to come out for meals each day was to prevent Lady Dinah from noticing anything unusual.

Edim's wandering thoughts were interrupted by a clang—Madame Dinah's fork had fallen to the floor. Edim looked over. Instead of asking the maid to replace it, she bent down to pick it up herself. Madame Dinah was wearing only a white dressing gown, and from Edim's angle, she could just see her smooth black hair and round, white arms. He quickly turned his head away and stood up.

"I still have morning lessons, so I'll leave first."

Edim quickly stood up and left. His upbringing wouldn't allow him to stay in such a strange atmosphere. He therefore missed Mrs. Dinah's meaningful smile. She slowly placed her fork on the table, leaning back in her high-backed chair, greedily observing Edim's broad shoulders and his swift movements.

It seemed even more interesting than I'd expected. Hap, like a real chipmunk, hid in the dining room cupboard, clutching a peanut, and watched the entire breakfast with all its hidden agendas. Claire allowed him free rein, but the price was a restraining anklet—woven from her own hair mixed with nettles. Without her permission, Hap could only maintain his chipmunk appearance.

Mrs. Dinah, who was sitting at the dining table, watched Edim disappear before she slowly stood up and walked upstairs, with the maid following closely behind her carrying a tray full of food.

Hap thought for a moment, hid the peanut in his paw, and followed quietly.

Dinah didn't stop until she was in the hallway outside Lord Bansey's bedroom. She didn't let the maid get close to the door, but instead, carrying the tray, pushed open the half-open door and walked in.

It seems Charlotte has found an ally. Thinking this, Hap sneaked into the room. Although it was already morning, the room was still eerily dark. Only a small window was open, and the sharp morning breeze blew away some of the dull, stale air.

Hap didn't see Charlotte, so he took the opportunity to secretly find a secluded place where he could not be observed. Now he was really a little annoyed that he had been away for too long. He had no control over what happened during his absence, so he could only try to make up for it.

Mrs. Dinah was still wearing her low-cut dressing gown. She brought the tray directly to Bensay Sassen's bed, leaned over and touched his old, withered face, and whispered a few times, as gently as if she were calling a sleeping child.

Lord Bansey showed no reaction. Dina increased her strength, using almost all her strength to slap the lifeless face twice. The head of the Sassen family was knocked to one side, but he still showed no reaction.

Dinah burst into a nervous laugh, her clothes disheveled and her hair loose as she straddled the old man. The light from the window illuminated her ivory skin, while Lord Bansey lay unconscious in the shadows of the bed curtains. The contrast between white and black, young and old, vigor and decay was stark.