As Ren and the group observed the demons and devils populating the bustling streets of Sin City, the initial façade of jubilation began to crumble upon closer scrutiny.
At first glance, the denizens of this otherworldly metropolis wore smiles that betrayed a sense of ecstatic satisfaction.
Yet, as the group's eyes hovered over the faces of the seemingly cheerful beings, they discerned a deeper truth etched into their expressions.
Despite the outward appearance of revelry, the demons and devils exhibited an underlying weariness that transcended mere physical fatigue.
Shadows clung to their eyes like heavy burdens, and lines of exhaustion etched intricate patterns on their once alluring faces.
The vibrant glow that initially adorned them now seemed tainted, as if the very essence of their vitality had been drained away.
The frenetic pace of the city only accentuated the apparent fatigue etched into every demonic countenance.
Succubi, whose allure had initially sparked desires, moved with a languid grace, their once-enticing smiles now carrying a hint of desperation.
Incubi, too, strutted with a weariness that belied their earlier confidence.
The air, thick with a heady mixture of enchantment and decadence, seemed to weigh down upon the denizens.
Their laughter, once carefree, now echoed with a hollow quality that betrayed a deeper emptiness within.
Even the dimly lit lanterns that adorned the cobblestone streets flickered with a tired glow, casting eerie shadows that mirrored the fatigue etched into the faces of those who wandered beneath.
Ren and the group exchanged silent glances, realizing that the very essence of Sin City's allure was a double-edged sword.
The city thrived on indulgence, but the toll it exacted on its inhabitants was evident in the lines of weariness etched upon them.
The once-vibrant atmosphere now bore witness to a collective exhaustion, a paradoxical juxtaposition of pleasure and pain.
As they continued to navigate the labyrinthine streets, it became increasingly apparent that the jubilant exterior of Sin City concealed a deeper, more insidious undercurrent.
The demons and devils, despite their outward celebrations, were prisoners of their own desires, ensnared in a cycle of indulgence that left them drained and hollow.
The group couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, realizing that navigating this city would require more than just concealing their identities; it would demand a resilience against the seductive but draining allure that permeated every cobblestone and alley of Sin City.
"What an iridescent town," Lorelai couldn't help but comment.
"Could they just stop, or are they under some sort of spell?" Elena asked no one in particular.
"They couldn't," Azazel said, grinning. "Once you taste the forbidden fruit, there's no turning back. Ahahaha––argh!"
"Perverted, cowardly, soulless, idiotic demon!" Lorelai said, drilling her fists against Azazel's head.
The group had grown accustomed to the sight, and it no longer concerned them.
"Is Desira behind this?" Evie asked Vivi.
Vivi nodded. "Most likely. It's the corruption that spread inside Desira; that's why the citizens here are out of control from overindulgence."
"Is she luring them with a spell? Controlling them with their desires?" Elena muttered. "What a sinister woman."
Vivi sighed and explained, "As much as I agree that Desira is sinister, she isn't like that. At least the real her isn't like that."
"What do you mean?" Evie asked, curious.
It was Azazel who explained, "Desira governs lust here, one of the seven deadly sins. But lust is equally important in the Netherworld as it is anywhere else."
"How is it important?!" Lorelai complained. "And don't say it with a serious face."
Azazel continued with a smirk, "Lust isn't just about physical desires; it's about the drive for passion, ambition, and even creativity. In the Netherworld, it fuels the fires of ambition, inspiring demons to strive for greatness. Desira's influence over lust ensures a delicate balance, but lately, her corruption has tipped the scales, turning desire into a destructive force. It's like mixing fine wine with poison – intoxicating, yet deadly."
Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Fine wine with poison, really?"
Azazel chuckled. "Metaphors aside, it's the intense pursuit of desires that keeps the Netherworld dynamic and charged. When it turns into unchecked indulgence, that's when things go haywire."
"For an idiot, you sometimes speak wisdom," Ren commented, surprised.
Azazel tapped the invisible dust on his clothes and said with pride, "I know, right? Sometimes, I surprise even myself."
"Jokes aside, what do you plan to do once we find her?" Ren asked.
Azazel's face turned serious. "I will confront her, just like with Vivi here. Knowing her, she would listen to me."
"Are you sure?" Elena asked, skeptical. "The last time you confronted Voraxa, she swallowed you whole."
Vivi fidgeted and stuttered, "I-I didn't mean it! I-I wasn't thinking straight at that time! It's the corruption's fault!"
"It's fine," Lorelai chimed in. "I wouldn't blame you for wanting to kill Azazel. He's annoying."
Vivi looked to the side and muttered, "N-no . . . L-Lord Azazel might be annoying, but he saved my life and took care of me! We're family!"
Azazel scratched his head. "Are you insulting or complimenting me? And is that how you talk to your family?"
"I-I'm sorry!"
Azazel sighed. "Anyway, I know that Desira would definitely talk to me. Amongst my warlords, Desira is the most sane and kind demoness out of all of them."
Ren and the others stared at each other.
"I find that hard to believe, considering she governs lust," Elena said.
"It's true," Vivi seconded. "Though Vivi is the cutest!"
"Desira used to be a healer in the past, you know," Azazel explained. "She was born from unfortunate circumstances, but that didn't stop her from healing the wounded around the Netherworld –– for a price, of course."
"A price?" Lorelai sneered.
"A girl's got to eat and live, you know," Azazel defended with a grin.
