After we successfully escaped from the children, we went about searching for clues…starting in the most logical place, the kitchen.

          It was empty, obviously. All the cooks were out watching the show and the kitchen had been locked so tight even the little Demon Lord or our own dear overgrown bucket of hubris would have had to spend quite a bit of effort to enter.

          So, after we broke the lock, and the door, we strolled in to where we would begin. Clean as an alibi, the kitchen was remarkable chaotic. Refrigerators were thrown haphazardly around the large room with wires and magic circuits everywhere, stoves that bore a striking resemblance to forges were alternating between them.

          The refrigerators on one side of the room showed use and were humming gently while the stoves on the same half weren’t even connected. The other side of the room showed a similar situation…but reversed.

          “…I knew I should have strangled his grandfather as a child. Well, in anycase, no use in dreaming. I’ll hunt for leftovers on this side” I pointed to the warm half, “you get the rest.”

          “We aren’t here for food.”

          “W-ies” I mumbled through a simmering piece of pie.

          “…There have been two murders, one of which happened nearby.”

          I eyed the meat pie suspiciously as I ate another piece.

          “…….The brats who are running this operation are keeping the news quiet, I’m betting Quenloc had something to do with that since your lot never has been good with secrecy.”

          “Hey, I wonce sole a whole case o’ hummph and ne’r blwabed”

          “A whole case of wh- no, never mind.” Shaking his head, he started poking around as he let loose around five of his little friends.

          I quickly swallowed as a highly important question arose in my mind.

          “You do keep your summons in a different space than the food right?”

          “Of course I do.” He open a cupboard that held a bunch of carefully organized fresh fruits. “…Do you mind?”

          I blinked innocently at him, our faces around a foot apart, “What? Did you want some?” I offered him a pear, one of my least favorite fruits.

          He pointed to a chair in the corner. With as much of a lack of dignity as was possible for one as dignified as I, I drooped and moped the whole way there.

          Heartless as he was, he never gave me a glance.

          …Sensing that he might be in a poor mood, I decided that I should probably behave.

          “Who has died so far?”

          “Two demons, both very sloppy, poorly executed deaths. One got shot in the ear with a human weapon, they call it a gun,”

          “Ah, yes, I am familiar. I learned how to make them after I helped make some of the more delicate pieces for the little guy who made them.” I sighed at the warm memory, “Never did like them myself since I could usually outpace the bullets.”

          “and then he tripped and fell onto a poisoned blade that was sticking out of an outcropping of rocks,”

          “Poison always seemed a bit outdated. At least in my opinion.”

          “…and then finally he was set on fire while he was still alive.”

          “A good finisher, fire always worked for me. When I was younger it was quite effective against-”

          “I know of fifteen different poisons that would kill you and make it hurt the whole time you’re dying.”

          “Continue.”

          “Even the professional couldn’t tell what actually killed the first one, but the second was much easier.”      

          “Oh?” I propped my head on my now empty hands as he finally stopped wandering about and properly explained things.       

          “He fell and died upon impact from a slid from a strange, hastily constructed trap that was clearly designed to move the idi-victim to a completely different area.”

          “…hm.”

          “So we have either an individual who thinks he’s smarter than the rest of world, or a group who thinks they are the chosen few.”

          “A fool or a cult basically?”

          “I’m thinking cult since it’d be hard for someone like that to create that…elaborate of a setup, but it could also be someone with far too much time on their hands.”   

          “Not the praiseworthy people-pleasing paper pushers pursuing peace, prosperity, and pumpkin pie then.”

          “…no, not the delegates. I’m thinking army.”

          “Human, Demon, or Angel?”

          “Human war merchants maybe, they’d have easy access to all of the items. Angels, probably not since it seems like they’re being directly set up as the victims are demons and fire is involved. Plus, your lot is more likely to run around killing people openly than stab in the dark.”   

          “Yes, it’s too hard to see and you might miss the vitals.”

          “Demon is the mostly likely though. A lot of them are not happy about the idea of peace and rules. This kind of overly complicated scheme reeks of a low-level brat trying to act smart.”   

          “…Do you smell blood?” I tilted my head as a faint scent drifted in through a window that we opened. It was faint enough that the source wasn’t close, but it was clear even from the distance that it was not coming from the arena.

          “Which direction?” He frowned, probably still grumpy that my sense of smell was getting better than his now that I was feeling better. Not only that, but my eyesight and my hearing was almost as good as when I was in my prime.

          “It’s harder to tell with the fog, but it should be that way.” I pointed and we sent off. Two of the little friends off ahead of us, one was missing half of a leg but it seemed rude to point out.

          “How have they not been caught yet? Quenloc, and your brat, should be able to find them blindfolded.”

          “They kind of are, with this much fog. This should be as hard for you to see through as it is for me.”

          Blackie ignored me. We continued as the smell of blood got thicker, so we could tell.

          It was human blood. A familiar human’s blood.

          Vel.