Gabriel's fingers hardened slightly around the scroll, but his face did not change much under the mask. The name should have stirred something inside his memories, yet only a blank space answered him, and his brows drew together.
He had lived through a ruined future and heard of hidden families, fallen kingdoms, secret orders, and monsters that wore human skin. Even so, he could not remember hearing anyone speak about a Demonic Sect with fear or anger.
"The Demonic Sect," Gabriel repeated, his voice low as he watched the projection closely. "I have never heard of them before. Are you certain that was their name?"
The alchemist's eyes narrowed as if the question had insulted him. His translucent hands clenched behind his back, and the light around his figure gave a faint uneasy ripple.
"I am dead, not senile," he replied with clear irritation. "They called themselves that, and the people who knew them used the same name. It was not a rumor I picked up from frightened servants."
