But his troubles were only starting. The soul force he had felt before this happened was now reappearing all around him.

Small blue and black wisps were floating around him. Some even laughed sinisterly.

More wisps kept popping up, with the ones already present slowly getting louder, saying words instead of just laughing.

"Surrender."

"Embrace the darkness."

"Join us!"

"Die for me, yeehahahaha!"

But through all these sinister calls, threats, and sweet promises, one voice resounded louder than the others.

"Boy! Who are you, and what are you doing here?!"

"Hmm?"

This voice somehow felt more peaceful than the others. Like it contained no malice.

He focused his mind on it. Before answering into the darkness.

"My name is Astaroth. I made the mistake of touching a ring, and I landed here."

After a few moments, amidst which the voices of the wisps kept trying to entice him to join them, or to kill himself, the other voice came back.

"A ring you say? A black ring with a green gem?"

"Yes! That was the one. Do you know this ring?"

The wisps got louder.

"Don't listen to the old man!"

"Join us!"

"Die for me!"

Then the old man's voice boomed.

"Silence, you evil spawns! Go back to your hiding spots!"

The voice affected the wisps like an electroshock, sending all of them reeling, as they shrieked in Astaroth's mind.

The high-pitched shrieks made his head thrum in pain, as blood started leaking from his nose. He closed his eyes, clutching his head with both hands.

"Argh!"

Then a soothing wave hit his mind. In a matter of seconds, the pain was gone, and he could open his eyes again, without feeling like they would pop out.

But he was no longer standing in the darkness. All around were now clouds and golden furniture.

Sitting on a luxurious sofa, an old man was reading an old-fashioned scroll. As Astaroth observed the man, he noticed a ring on his left hand.

It was the same ring as the one he had touched to reach here!

"That ring! So it was yours!"

The old man looked up at him before waving his hand at a sofa nearby.

Next to the sofa, a tall man, with skin blacker than the reaches of space, was standing at attention with a cloth over his arm. He looked like a typical butler you would see in rich families of the olden days.

Astaroth walked over to the sofa, taking a seat. When he sat down, he felt like he was sitting on a cloud that embraced every part of his butt and back to make him as comfortable as possible.

"What is this sofa? I need one for my home!"

The old man huffed a laugh, never taking his eyes off of his scroll.

The butler next to Astaroth opened one eye to sneak a peek at the guest. Astaroth caught his glance and looked him in the eyes.

His vibrant red iris was like looking into a blood well, and he instantly felt dizzy. The butler never broke eye contact, and Astaroth could feel something tugging at his mind, siphoning his mana at an exorbitant rate.

"Amon! Cease this right this instant! The young man is a guest, not a snack!"

The butler rapidly closed his eyes. As soon as the eye contact broke, Astaroth started huffing and puffing, his body sweating profusely.

"What in god's name was that?!"

Mentioning god, the butler lightly hissed at him, and the old man burst into laughter.

"Boahahaha. Better not to mention the capital G-word here, boy. The demons don't particularly like him, you see?"

"D… Demon?!"

It was at this moment Astaroth noticed the slim black tail flicking behind the butler. As he smiled, feeling Astaroth's gaze on his splendid form, Astaroth noticed the prominent canines in the demon's mouth.

Jumping back a healthy distance, Astaroth pulled out the Ad Astra. But with a swish of the old man's hand, his weapon disappeared from his hand, reappearing back in his inventory, locked.

"What in tarnation?"

"No use in being hostile. Amon here is the tamest of the lot. Although he remains a demon, he is civil enough to conduct himself as a gentleman. Unless I order him otherwise."

Astaroth heard a distinct tongue clicking and could guess who it came from.

"Sit back down, boy. I have questions for you."

"That makes two of us. The first one being, who are you? You just sent an artifact back into my inventory like it was a toy."

"Hah! Boy, I have seen artifacts much stronger than that toy you use as a weapon. And you are in my domain. I could turn you into a silkworm if I so desired. Now, sit."

Astaroth audibly gulped. The old man's tone was not one of bargain.

The confidence in his threat was also genuine. There was no doubt to be heard about it.

He reluctantly sat back on the sofa, his proximity to this demon, Amon, making him uncomfortable, despite the softness of the furniture.

"Master, shall I make some tea?"

Hearing the demon's voice, Astaroth almost did a double take. He was expecting the demon to have a screechy or even a cavernous voice.

But Amon instead sounded like a refined gentleman, issued straight from a drama show on royalty.

"Splendid idea, Amon. The same as usual."

Turning his head to Astaroth, he asked, "You drink tea, yes?"

Astaroth only nodded in response.

"Good. As for your question, I will answer it, but first, tell me your name."

Taking a moment to realize the old man was willing to answer his queries, Astaroth snapped his full attention to him, ignoring the demon in the background.

"Ah, yes. My name is Astaroth. To whom do I have the honour of talking to?"

"Hmm. Astaroth, you say. Quite an interesting name. Parent-given, or self-chosen?"

"Self-chosen, I guess? Does it matter?"

"It does to me. Any provenance for that name, or it just came to you?"

"I read it somewhere in a book once. An old tale about the great sage, Solomon. Why?"

"The great sage. Hah! I haven't been called that in a long time. I have had many other monikers since then."

"You were called that too, once? Did you know Solomon?"

"Know him? Boy, I am him."

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Jedidiah, the Great Sage. I was also known as King Solomon."

Astaroth could only stare in silence. His mind did a complete shutdown.

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