Back at Excellia.
"Fuck the pacts and all. I will turn you into dust just like this cup."
"Oh, I would love to see you try, Storm Weaver."
Éclairsat down, exhaled, and finally took a sip of the tea that had been served to her.
"So that's your plan, Paimon. Well, given your status as a prince candidate, you can't even touch a single hair on any of us."
"Exactly. Yet that does not mean none of us can participate on the stage."
Paimon took a sip of his tea, then calmly held out his cup as it was refilled.
"You know the saying, right? For new leaves to grow, old leaves must fall."
"I don't," Éclair replied.
"Well, I heard it from a neighboring country that once tried to form a contract with me. Do you know what I did?"
"Not interested."
