High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1165: Chapter 227 Seven Sins

In the long history of First University, if there is anything that has been passed down along with this ancient school, it is the various student societies, big and small.

Public, secret, famous, nameless, ancient, newly established—all kinds of student societies, forming various student circles, intertwined with each other, creating a robust chainmail for the university.

Blood Comrades is one of the two major student societies recognized by First University.

Sir Friedman wanted to become the new Augustus of Blood Comrades, and besides going through the official competitive in-society route, he could also take a detour by leveraging the power of other school societies to advance his journey.

The ”3A Society,” over which he presided, was one of these ”other societies.”

But relying solely on ”3A” was far from enough, as Sepulano also had the support of the ”Auspicious Society.” Thus, Friedman had to look for more powerful allies.

This matter was far more important than that annoying bug, Nicholas.

So, after turning around, although there was still some displeasure in Friedman’s heart, it quickly faded away beneath the scorching heat of the Ruby Ring on his finger.

He looked around.

It was during class, and there wasn’t a single person in the staircase.

The Silent Duke held one hand to his chest while clutching the Ruby Ring with the other, feeling the burning sensation between his fingers as he slowly walked down the stairs.

Down seven, up three, down five, up one.

Below the stairs, a swirl of white mist silently arose. Behind the mist, a Bronze Secret Door with an ancient design suddenly appeared. On the door, a green demon face was grinning and greeting the vampire standing on the stairs.

”Good afternoon.”

The pale-faced vampire nodded politely.

”You should have changed your clothes earlier,” the green demon face replied in a hoarse voice, ”but today you are not the last one to arrive... Beelzebub was later than you... oh, no, now you are the last one.”

”Thank you,” Sir Friedman responded tersely, showing no interest in chatting with the demon face.

He walked slowly into the rolling white mist and took out a thick black robe from the Ruby Ring. The robe was unadorned and looked quite old-fashioned, the collar slightly frayed, as if it had been worn for many years.

”...I’ve told you many times, keep your clothes frequently washed. Can you believe Belfinger’s robe hasn’t been washed for over fifty years? Even the stinkbugs refuse to nest on it.”

The demon face rambled on, utterly indifferent to whether the warlock opposite him was interested in chatting or not: ”Also, do not keep bringing pastries and tea into my belly, I can’t even taste them... This time you must emphasize this to Beelzebub. He just laughed and closed the door before I finished speaking! Becoming more and more rude! It’s truly a decline from one generation to the next...”

Friedman ignored the demon face’s chatter, just frowned and slowly donned the old robe.

The robe seemed very heavy; once he put it on, his figure appeared bent under its weight.

The warlock’s hand finally delved into the robe’s pocket, fetching a pair of leather gloves and a beautifully ornate, handsome mask, which he proceeded to put on.

Wizards are a group that highly values privacy, especially those who do not care much for order. That’s because an evil wizard with great mana can capture his enemy’s trail with little information, then curse them with magic.

However, a Silence Contract is not a devil’s agreement and is not suitable for every occasion.

Hence, for secret societies, learning to mask one’s identity becomes crucial when attending related meetings. Black robes, leather gloves, and ornate masks are all tools for this purpose.

The secret society Sir Friedman attended was not large, comprising only seven members and named ’Seven Sins.’ It originated at Alpha Academy but had its reach across the entire First University. Each new member was personally vetted and recommended by the previous member; the rest of the society did not participate or intervene in the process.

The member who recommended Sir Friedman had been the former president of the ’3A society,’ who speculated that the identities of the other six members of the Seven Sins were likely similar—typically heads of medium or large student societies within the school, possibly even research fellows from the First University Research Institute or members of the school’s Assistant Team.

In the Seven Sins, each member adopted the identity of a corresponding demon as a cover. The society’s mission was secretive mutual assistance and mutual vigilance, helping each other without any restraints or breaches of confidentiality—meaning it was very possible that an extreme Alpha lineage adherent unknowingly helped a wizard of common birth from Jiuyou Academy, or a fanatic from Atlas silently assisted some Atheist from another academy.

Sir Friedman’s identity in ’Seven Sins’ was Lucifer, the fallen archangel.

Having secured his mask, Sir Friedman paused, then slowly raised his right hand and gently rapped on the little door in front of him with the ring set with a red gem.

”You are the most courteous among them.”

A grimacing face complimented him, the tongue flicking out onto the leather glove. The red gem flickered faintly through the glove, causing the grimacing face’s tongue to quickly retract. Sir Friedman’s expression twitched silently behind his mask.

The bronze small door in front of him opened soundlessly.

The room behind the door was not spacious, rather, it was somewhat narrow.

A large oval wooden table stood in the center of the room, taking up nearly half of the space. In the middle of the table were several pots of withered flowers and plants, surrounded by a mess of brittle branches and dead leaves due to lack of maintenance.

Above the table hung a row of upside-down candles, firmly sticking to the ceiling in a Septagram Formation. Candlelight flickered downward, emitting soft crackling sounds, and casting a gentle pale yellow light.

Under the yellow light, six figures sat quietly on high-backed chairs around the table.

Hearing Sir Friedman’s heavy footsteps, they all looked up.

”Lucifer, you’re a bit late today.”

A deep male voice resonated in the not-so-spacious room. Although not loud, it made the room buzz.

Sir Friedman scanned the other six bizarre masks in the room, snorted softly, and slowly dragged his heavy feet toward his seat.

As he moved, he responded in a hoarse voice, ”It’s already quite difficult for me to make time for this meeting... How much earlier did Beelzebub arrive?”