Transmigrated as the Devil of the Meaningless-Chapter 88: Lady Amoret

"For example, as long as humanity still suffers from nightmares, that is proof enough that the Mother of Sleep, Mara, is still very much alive and continues to feed on the fear of humanity in their sleep."

As though her curiosity had been stirred, Fiona fell silent for a moment.

Her gaze lowered, her brows knitting slightly as she thought through what had just been said.

Then she lifted her head and spoke.

"If such demonic entities are already known, and if some of them are still active, then why haven’t the covens exterminated them? Surely they wouldn’t allow something so dangerous to continue existing."

Fiona asked calmly.

The old woman did not seem offended by the question.

Instead, she nodded, as if she had been expecting it.

"There are many factors involved," the old woman replied.

"First, most of these entities are extremely old. They have had centuries, even millennia, to learn how to hide. Some exist in fractured spaces, some anchor themselves to concepts rather than places, and others ensure their survival through indirect means."

She paused briefly before continuing.

"The Mother of Sleep is one such case. She exists beyond our current dimension. Dreams and nightmares, after all, do not operate fully within the third dimension."

"They have no fixed space, no stable direction, and no consistent flow of time."

She gestured lightly with her hand, as if drawing invisible lines in the air.

"In dreams, distance is meaningless."

"A person can be both a child and an adult in the same moment... A memory can feel more real than the present..."

"This suggests that dreams occupy a layered state of existence— part thought, part emotion, part something else entirely."

Fiona listened closely.

The woman continued.

"Because of that, beings that dwell within dreams cannot be attacked in the same way physical entities can. Even if the covens wished to destroy such a demon, they may not know where to strike."

She let out a quiet sigh.

She leaned forward, her voice dropping.

"Another theory is that these known entities, in a way, keep the peace. Their presence can prevent even more dangerous and violent demons from being born."

"They act like... territorial predators, keeping worse things at bay."

"Of course, these are just my theories. I do not possess such significant knowledge. And for people like us, we are often better off not prying too deep."

She added with a wave of her hand.

Her expression grew solemn.

"Remember, knowledge is power, but knowledge is also a path to madness."

"There are certain demons—and perhaps even witches—who possess powers that let them weave malevolence directly into information itself."

"Sometimes, merely knowing a thing can begin to corrupt you."

To illustrate her point, she reached into her bag and carefully placed a book on the table.

Its cover was made of aged, dark brown leather, worn smooth at the edges.

Stamped into the front in stark, silver lettering was the title: Guide of Malum.

"In the old Tiernam tongue ’Malum’ translates to ’Evil’."

The old lady explained, her finger resting on the cover.

She then pushed the book slowly across the table toward Fiona.

"Now then, Lady Fiona Amoret," she said, her tone shifting.

"Would you be interested in joining us?"

Fiona’s eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know my family name?"

The old lady let out a soft chuckle.

"In certain social circles, it is well known that the young lady of the Amoret family has a deep interest in the supernatural. But your family is very protective so one dares to involve you directly."

She gestured lightly to Fiona’s hair.

"Not to mention, there are not many with such distinctive silver hair."

Fiona offered an embarrassed smile.

"Truthfully, I did not prepare a proper disguise. My maid usually handles such things for my events, but I knew she would disagree with me coming here. I could only resort to... crude methods."

Her expression then turned more cautious.

"Since you know who I am, are you not afraid of offending my family?"

The old lady simply smiled in response.

Fiona’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"I see. So you want something from me."

Her voice was steady.

"Tell me, what is it you seek that is worth risking my family’s displeasure?"

The old woman was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Lady Fiona, we would like to request your backing, in exchange for the knowledge we are willing to share."

"Surely it isn’t just ’backing’ you seek," Fiona replied, her tone sharpening.

"You are perceptive." The old woman conceded.

"We need your influence. We wish to organize a large gathering—a venue filled with thousands of open-minded people willing to listen to the principles of demonology."

She folded her hands.

"You are no fool, Lady Fiona. I am certain you have heard of the prophecy."

Fiona’s eyes sharpened slightly, but she did not interrupt.

"Countless people will die in the coming tragedy," the old woman continued.

"Villages will be erased, lives will be discarded without mercy... We believe a great wave of suffering is approaching." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Her gaze was intense.

"We intend to conduct a grand ritual to seek protection from a higher, benevolent entity. A key part of this ritual requires the willing participation of thousands of open hearts and minds. We are not asking for their lives, but for their conscious, willing focus."

"We need a channel of collective hope to reach for aid."

Fiona’s face hardened.

"Do you take me as someone innocently naive? If you want protection, go to the established covens."

The old woman shook her head.

"The covens will not protect people like us, milady. Your family may be shielded by influence and name, but those of us from small villages, with no standing, are left alone."

Fiona scoffed softly as she replied.

"Even so, there is likely falsehood in your words... This sounds like an excuse for a sacrificial ritual."

"You may think that now..." the old lady replied, undeterred.

She slowly pushed the Guide of Malum closer to Fiona.

"But perhaps you will change your mind once you read our true intentions."

Fiona stared at it in silence.

The book itself looked old but well cared for.

The leather cover was dark, etched with faint symbols that seemed to constantly change shape when stared at too long.

The pages were thick, edged with a faint yellow tint, as though they had absorbed years of candle smoke and ink.

Fiona finally spoke.

"I will not promise anything..."

She said hesitantly.

"But I will read this."

She picked up the book slowly as she continued with her reply.

"If I find even a hint of deception... this discussion ends here."

The old woman inclined her head.

"That is more than enough."

Fiona stood up, holding the book close to her chest.

"I will give you my answer after I finish reading," she said.

With that, she turned and walked away.

...

"My lady, I could not hear your conversation from the other table..."

The burly bodyguard whispered, falling into step beside her as they walked away from the bar.

"It was as if the sound was being blocked... I believe they used supernatural means to prevent eavesdropping."

Fiona nodded, her expression thoughtful.

"They did... They placed talismans on the table."

"They looked like crude versions of the ones my father uses in his private study."

She trusted this man completely; he was her most loyal protector, so she explained everything she had heard from the group.

The bodyguard listened carefully, his face growing grim.

"My lady... I believe it is a trap. That book likely carries a corruptive force designed to influence you once you read it..."

"Their goal is most probably to make you listen to them."

"I think so too," Fiona agreed.

"They did not try to stop me from taking the book for some reason... They seemed very confident that I would return to them after reading it."

The bodyguard was silent for a moment, considering.

"My lady, I believe they are a dangerous group... Perhaps we should find other, safer channels to learn about the supernatural. This path seems too risky."

Fiona was deep in thought.

"Hm... aside from them, there is the man known as Mr. Black from the Black Lantern gathering. But I did not see him at last week’s meeting."

She glanced down at the leather-bound book in her hands.

"What should we do about this, then?"

The bodyguard opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a calm voice cut through the quiet street in front of them.

"Perhaps you should give it to me."

Standing in their path was a tall man with black hair.

His face was concealed behind a simple black mask, its surface fixed in a faint, eerie grin.

The bodyguard, Jerald, flinched as danger screamed through his instincts.

He immediately stepped in front of his mistress, his body a shield, and his hand moved to pull out the pistol hidden beneath his coat.

"Jerald, wait."

Fiona’s voice was firm, stopping him.

She studied the masked figure ahead of them.

"Mr. Black?"

The man in the grinning mask let out a soft chuckle and responded with a slight, polite bow.

"Good evening, Lady Amoret."