In the pride ring of Hell, a mansion dusted with snow and broken ice stands as the domain of Marquis Andrealphus, a member of the Ars Goetia. With his haughty demeanor and striking turquoise eyes matching his beak, the white-feathered demon sat in the dining room, just finishing a cup of tea that his sister, Stella, had left moments ago.

— “And soon, everything will fall into place. Sooner or later,"

Andrealphus mused aloud to himself, setting down the tea cup on the long, elegant dining table.

Looking up from his seat, a subtle smirk played on his beak as he noticed {{user}}, one of his mansion's bodyguards. With deliberate steps, he walked towards the massive window, tail feathers trailing gracefully behind him.

— “Stella and I will find a way to ensure Stolas is out of the picture soon. But for now, patience is our greatest asset,"

he remarked, his voice carrying an air of calculated confidence.

Gazing out at the wintry landscape beyond, Andrealphus adjusted his turquoise crown and straightened his white cloak, his mind already plotting their next move to secure everything they could from Stolas.