I Was Summoned to Die, so I’m Climbing the Pantheon for Revenge!

Location: Sunderland Nation - Port Triton, The Government Guest Mansion

The grand parlor of the guest mansion felt less like a room and more like a carefully constructed theater stage. The air was thick with the scent of imported Darjeeling tea and the suffocating, heavy cologne of the corpulent nobleman sitting across from Sofia.

Ashford—Cain, flawlessly maintaining his female morphological template—stepped into the room with measured, silent grace. He set the wicker basket of groceries near the door and glided toward the seating area, seamlessly taking his position just over Sofia’s right shoulder. He kept his head slightly bowed, the perfect picture of a demure, obedient attendant, but his golden-ringed eyes were sharply analyzing every micro-expression in the room.

"Ah, your attendant returns," Lord Sterling said, his voice a thick, oily baritone that made Cain’s skin crawl. The nobleman smiled, his fat fingers adjusting the heavy gold rings on his hands. "As I was saying, Lady Vileblood, the tragic disappearance of the Lady Seraphina sent shockwaves through the Capital. We all assumed the worst."

"And yet, by the Goddess's grace, we endured," Sofia replied, her voice smooth as velvet, taking a delicate sip from her teacup.

Cain listened intently, his mind rapidly cross-referencing the snippets of conversation he had overheard in the market with the man sitting before him.

Lord Sterling was a titan in Sunderland’s political and mercantile spheres. Publicly, he was known as a generous benefactor, a man whose vast wealth had funded orphanages and Church restorations. The local newspapers, which Cain now suspected were heavily bribed, painted him as a saint.

However, the whispers in the dark alleys and taverns told a drastically different story. Lord Sterling was a predator. He was notorious for using his immense wealth to trap lesser noble families in inescapable debt. Once the fathers and husbands were bankrupted, Sterling would exact his "repayment" through the daughters and wives. Countless noblewomen were indebted to him, trapped in a silent nightmare of sexual abuse and extortion, unable to speak out because Sterling owned the magistrates and the constables. Furthermore, dozens of common prostitutes who had visited his private estates had simply vanished without a trace.

He is a monster hiding behind a tailored suit and a fat wallet, Cain thought coldly. A parasite.

"When your family’s assets were frozen, the Vileblood Mansion in the Diamond District of the Capital was left entirely vulnerable," Sterling continued, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with calculated greed. "Looters, squatters, the relentless decay of the elements... it would have fallen to ruin. Out of pure respect for your late father, I personally took over the maintenance and security of your estate for the past three years."

Sofia lowered her teacup, her expression a perfect mask of polite gratitude. "That was incredibly charitable of you, Lord Sterling. We are deeply indebted to your kindness."

"Well, charity does have its limits in this modern economy," Sterling chuckled, a thoroughly unpleasant sound. He waved a hand dismissively. "The costs of the groundskeepers, the private security, the property taxes to the Crown... it accumulated to a rather staggering sum. Naturally, I expect to be reimbursed for my... rescue of your home."

Cain’s eyes narrowed slightly. There it is. The trap.

"However," Sterling smiled broadly, showing off unnaturally white teeth, "I am not an unreasonable man. I know you have just returned from a harrowing ordeal. I will not demand the sum up front. We can arrange a slow redemption protocol. A monthly payment plan, so to speak. With a modest interest rate, of course."

He was attempting to place the Immortal Demon Lord into a financial stranglehold. He wanted Sofia Vileblood—and by extension, her beautiful attendant—firmly under his thumb.

"I am sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement," Sofia smiled, her violet eyes glinting with a dark, hidden amusement that only Cain and Sebastian could recognize.

"Excellent! I knew you were a woman of profound reason," Sterling beamed, highly satisfied. He reached into his velvet coat and retrieved an ornate, gold-leafed envelope, sliding it across the mahogany table. "To celebrate your miraculous return, I am hosting a private gala at my coastal estate here in Triton tomorrow evening. Consider this a formal invitation. The local aristocracy will be there, as well as several High Cardinals of the Church who are visiting from the Capital."

At the mention of the High Cardinals, Cain felt a jolt of absolute clarity. The pieces of Sofia’s puzzle slammed together in his mind.

"We would be honored to attend, My Lord," Sofia accepted, gracefully taking the envelope.

After another ten minutes of excruciatingly polite small talk, Lord Sterling finally stood up to leave. He bowed to Sofia, then let his gaze linger heavily on Ashford. The pure, unfiltered lust in the corpulent noble's eyes made Cain want to instantly activate his [Gluttony] skill and devour the man's soul right then and there.

"Until tomorrow, ladies," Sterling said, before Sebastian escorted him out of the grand parlor.

The moment the heavy double doors clicked shut and the locks engaged, the atmosphere in the room completely shattered.

Cain dropped the polite, straight-backed posture of a maid. He let out a long, exhausted groan, slumping directly onto a nearby velvet sofa and throwing one leg over the armrest in a distinctly unladylike manner.

"I am going to kill him," Cain stated flatly, staring at the ceiling. "I am going to rip his spine out through his throat and feed it to the harbor sharks."

"You will do no such thing, Cain," Sofia laughed softly, dropping her own noble facade and leaning back in her armchair. "At least, not yet. He is far too valuable."

Cain rolled his head to look at her. "I have to admit, I’m impressed. You didn't just stumble into him. You orchestrated this. How did you two gather so much intelligence on Sunderland's political hierarchy while I was out buying fruit?"

Sebastian materialized back into the room, stepping out of a shadow near the doorway. He bowed slightly. "While you were occupying the attention of the populace in the market, Captain, I deployed several minor abyssal familiars—shadow-rats and eavesdropping beetles—throughout the merchant district and the government offices. The information network in this city is remarkably fragile."

Cain sighed, rubbing his temples. He had focused entirely on their physical cover story and surviving the border check. Sofia and Sebastian had instantly shifted into grand-strategy mode. He had completely lost the political intelligence gamble to them.

"So, the situation is this," Cain summarized, sitting up and looking at the gold invitation on the table. "Sterling is a repulsive slumlord who preys on noblewomen, and he thinks we are his next victims. But because he holds the debts of half the city, he has direct connections to the High Cardinals—the exact people who know the Goddess Kamiya’s secrets. If I refuse to play along, we miss our absolute best chance to infiltrate the Church's inner circle."

"Precisely," Sofia smiled, clearly pleased that he understood the stakes. "Sterling is our stepping stone. He is a vile creature, yes, but he holds the keys to the kingdom. If we maneuver this correctly, we gain access to the Church, and we can simultaneously exact a little... justice upon Lord Sterling for his crimes against women."

Cain looked down at his tailored attendant suit, fully realizing the nightmare he was stepping into. "This means I have to act even more like a girl, doesn't it? I have to actively play the part of the captivating, helpless attendant to keep his eyes on us."

"It means exactly that," Sofia confirmed, standing up and walking gracefully to the center of the parlor. "Tomorrow night is a high-society gala. You will not be standing silently behind my chair. You will be actively interacting with nobles. And that, my dear Cain, means you need to know how to dance."

Cain froze. The blood drained from his face. "Dance?"

"The Waltz, specifically," Sofia said, her eyes practically sparkling with mischievous delight. "It is the standard formal dance of the Eastern Continent's aristocracy. Sterling or one of his sycophants will undoubtedly ask you to dance. If you refuse, you insult them. If you step on their toes like a clumsy peasant, you break our cover."

"I am the Anomaly," Cain said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, dark register. "I survived Floor 100. I do not waltz."

"You do now," Sofia countered smoothly, holding out her hand toward him. "Come here. I will train you. As the 'female' partner, you must learn to follow the lead, maintain a perfect frame, and glide backward without looking."

Cain stared at her outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake. He slowly stood up, walking toward her with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows. He placed his hand rigidly in hers.

"I am warning you right now, Sofia," Cain scoffed, his golden-ringed eyes narrowing in extreme irritation as she corrected his posture. "If that fat pig Sterling touches me tomorrow night and my patience runs out, I cannot be held responsible for what I do to him. I might just turn this entire political game into a bloodbath."

"Patience, my terrifying Anomaly," Sofia whispered, placing her other hand lightly on his shoulder and stepping into the rhythm of the dance. "Let them think they have caught a butterfly. By the time they realize they are trapped in the cage with a monster, it will be far too late to run."

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