As Memnol tended to have breakfast on his own and it was more of a guess if he'd arrive for lunch, which he hadn't, the awkward air between Blake and him was delayed until dinner. Where it hit most of the two teams completely head-on. Cardin giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder as he passed by certainly hadn't helped the atmosphere there, which Memnol still seemed utterly unfazed by.

Throughout the whole meal, Blake would sometimes seem as if to say something, before going back to the awkward quiet she remained in, even as slightly shaky conversation was offered around her, or in Memnol's case utterly normal as usual, she hadn't spoken up.

Once they had all finished and the current conversation died out, Memnol said, "Would you terribly mind if I walked with you to your dorms? It has simply been some time since I have done so."

Seeing it for what it was, they accepted, and after a short and quiet walk, Memnol joined Team RWBY in their dorm.

Memnol looked down to Blake and said, "Is there anything you haven't convinced yourself not to say, Ms. Belladonna?"

Blake looked up, then went through the same thing and stopped herself, so Memnol continued after a sigh, "I think I might see, so allow me to state this. Excerpt from the end of Number Nine, 'If you are invited into another's abode, you are to do your utmost to be a hospitable guest,'. I believe it would be terribly rude for me to do whatever I imagine you are imagining I might. That and, if I were not at least somewhat interested in what you had to say, it would have taken me less effort, if only mildly less, to simply return to my own lodgings."

After a long moment of silence, Blake looked up again and asked, "Why?"

Memnol said, "I'm afraid I'll need more detail, Ms. Belladonna."

Blake said, "The ultimatum," then after a beat, "The rest was actually quite clear, once I took the time to think it through."

Memnol said, "I had been having a rather decent day, and I don't want to be seen as some wild vigilante, even if that is in its own way a part of the job. Offering that allowed a way out, not one completely devoid of consequences as many would be wishful for, but a way out nonetheless. Wherever any White Fang members, current or otherwise, are in a week and beyond will simply be the consequences of their choices. Some may find new ways, some may crawl into denial, others standing into acceptance. You," He pointed at Blake, "Have made your choice. It has brought you here, to a place of learning filled with your peers, into a team of friends who went so far as to ask for my aid, to call in a favor from me, out of concern for you."

He let his hand fall back down, "I have simply forced them to make, and face, their choices."

Blake was quiet for a long moment, thinking all the way through her times with the White Fang, and her many fewer times with Memnol, before she said, "Your first plan is to kill everyone remaining, isn't it." It wasn't a question, despite its phrasing.

Memnol said, "Yes."

It was not a loud yes, not angry or sad or taunting, but it was so clear, unwavering, and unhesitant that even though she knew it would be the answer, Blake flinched with the rest of her team. Blake particularly knew that a number of her childhood friends wouldn't take that ultimatum seriously, would just disregard the supremacy claims as baseless slander, not really mind what only one man could do. But regardless of what Memnol said, she wouldn't just let her old friends die if she could avoid it.

Blake looked around the room, near her belongings, searching for something but unsure of what, until her eyes fell onto a particular book, one of Weiss' by chance, and her mind remembered one of the tales inside, as well as the painting of Memnol playing chess with his boss, as an idea seemed to click into place.

She looked down, feeling an odd pit in her stomach, as though the idea that had formed dropped there from her head, and she focused solely on her breath for a brief few moments.

She looked back up at Memnol and said, forcing confidence into her voice, "Memnol Elodyr, what do I need to do to convince you to-" A pause, as she tried to search for a different word but couldn't seem to find a better one, "To spare some parts of the White Fang?"

Memnol held his hand out as if to help Blake up and said, "I declare the following to be private business between Blake Belladonna, prospective client, and Memnol Elodyr, prospective contractor. Ms. Belladonna, I request we move the details of what will be required to a different location. By grabbing my hand you shall approve of this, and I shall transport us to a location deemed by myself to be suitable for further negotiations."

Blake didn't look at her team, and took Memnol's hand, Memnol teleporting the both of them off the moment she had done so.

As she looked around, she saw just ten or so minutes away in the distance, home, in Kuo Kuana.

Memnol said, "You will have a precise inclusive list of all individuals, locations, and other such things you wish to guarantee the sparing of, along with any other requested instructions, prepared in full by no later than seven PM Vale time tomorrow, as I will visit your dorm at that time to retrieve said list. In exchange for the execution of the given instruction, which will be defaulted to sparing for the items on the list which do not have further instruction, The day after that you will sign your name in triplicate on the provided documents and provide at least six drops of blood in total, one per document to be dripped into the provided dotted circle and three into the associated vials."

He put his hand back out, though this time as if for a shake, "Do you the client, Blake Belladonna, hereby accept these conditions both through verbal affirmation and physical affirmation, providing both via stating, quote, 'I, Blake Belladonna, daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, born', state your full and true birthdate, 'hereby accept the terms laid out by Memnol Elodyr', unquote, and via shaking my hand respectively?"

After a brief moment where Blake forcibly ignored the feeling of her aura's sixth sense screaming at her to do something, fight, run, yell, cry, demand to be taken back, anything other than what he said, Blake breathed in long.

Blake then said, "I, Blake Belladonna, daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, born January Nineteenth of Twelve-Eighty Eight, hereby accept the terms laid out by Memnol Elodyr," and took his hand and shook it.

Memnol said, "The deal is struck. You will now be returned to your dorm."

With that, Memnol teleported them to the hallway in front of the door, before he teleported away on his own.

Blake tentatively walked back into the room, and all heads whipped her way.

Yang had rushed up to her, checking her all over, "Are you alright? What happened? What'd he do? I swear if he did anything-"

Blake said, "Yang!" She pulled off Yang's hands and held her arms for a moment, "Yang, I'm fine. We talked it over, we shook hands on it, and he brought me back," she addressed the whole room, "I kind of need the desk for a while guys, I need to write down all the names and places by tomorrow evening, and I've got to meet him the day after that too."

Yang said, "Alright, but if anything happens, just tell us. We've got your back."

Blake smiled softly and said, "It's alright, seriously. Compared to what I'm getting, I'm sure that what I'm giving isn't all that important.."

Yang said, "Did he…" She leaned in and whispered, "Did he proposition you?"

Blake immediately went red in the face and by the sound of her coughing on nothing she seemed to be dealing with a hairball.

Blake whispered back quite emphatically, eyes firmly focused on the paper now in front of her, "No, no, not at all. Besides, he's already got a date later in the week, remember?"

Yang said, "Oh, yeah, right. Forgot about that."

After a pause, Blake added, "Thank you for being worried. It's… appreciated."

The next day, Thursday, at exactly 7 PM three heavy knocks, each separated by almost exactly one and a quarter seconds, landed on the door of Team RWBY, and Blake got up and opened it. There stood Memnol completely silent with an outstretched hand. Blake handed him the pages of the list, he nodded, then walked off.

Then, as Team RWBY was coming out from combat class the day after that, they saw Memnol waiting there with his black robe worn over his uniform, and he walked up and said, "Ruby, would you mind terribly if I borrowed Ms. Belladonna before she joined you for dinner?"

Ruby said, "It's alright. See you there, Blake."

Blake nodded and said, "Yeah, see you there."

Memnol nodded and said, "Come along this way Ms. Belladonna, I have set up a temporary location elsewhere."

They walked in silence until they reached a simple unused maintenance closet, the door to which Memnol opened, and there Blake saw an entrance to a Magnificent Mansion swing open as well. She stepped into a single room with a soft crimson carpet, walls unseen due to the presence of bookshelves with myriad titleless books in them, though if she ever opened them she'd find that the books were empty and solely decorative, and two chairs across from each other at a small table. The closer chair also matched the look of the chairs from her home in Kuo Kuana, whereas Memnol's chair was a tall, velvet and brass lined, ornate thing. A small fire in a fireplace crackled just a little ways behind the chair, above the fireplace was a portrait in Memnol's own image, though the Memnol in the portrait was wearing a three-piece suit rather than the usual kit, and the expression seemed to be one of more general contentment than the usual seriousness.

The room seemed to overall be surprisingly cozy, and Blake actually felt a little more at ease, and really, it wouldn't be so bad, just signing some stuff. She was very grateful for the crackling and warmth of the fire to focus on, since her Aura given sixth sense seemed to feel downright frozen for some reason, even though she definitely didn't think she was in any danger. If anything did pop up into the mansion somehow, it's not like it would be a match for Memnol.

She sat down as Memnol got her chair for her, then as he sat down himself he brought out three small, empty glass vials from his belt, and then took out three booklets which were each 6 by 3 inches in height and width with just over a half-inch of thickness, easily able to fit into a pocket. Each was bound together in thinly leather-covered iron with a simple title on the front and side:

Pact Certain:

Memnol Elodyr - Blake Belladonna

That was it. Only six words, to title a booklet with, as Memnol knew, exactly 397 pages.

This one was a true and proper contract by his standards, and as such enough to make some lower-ranking devils have mental breakdowns, and give a pit-fiend more than a little trouble.

It changed language suddenly between the six scripts he knew, plenty of times mid-sentence. It had 43 loopholes only available to the one carrying out the pact, being Memnol. Thirteen clauses, only one of which was fully in common but tucked away within a group of unrelated subclauses on a random page, gave Memnol complete and uncontestable Power of Attorney without limit. It gave him the right to arbitrarily request any legal document she or any guardians of hers could request without explanation or requirement of record in eight places. Nineteen clauses and subclauses were dedicated to complete legal absolvement of anything committed against her, regardless of circumstance, now or ever. Ten portions forbade her from acting in bad faith in regards to the contract, while six portions explicitly gave Memnol full permission to act in complete bad faith. Ninety-seven clauses waived, implicitly and/or explicitly, any and all current or future rights to contest either the contract or Memnol himself in any legal, physical, magical, or spiritual manner if he disallowed it. Out of nostalgia and habit, just one clause tucked away stated that should he no longer be capable, now or ever in the future, of enforcing or retaining the contract, all benefits of the contract went to Asmodeus, then Vecna, then Primus, should any in the previous chain be similarly unable or unwilling, and returned to him should he be able again.

The soul-ownership clauses, modified slightly so that the ownership belonged solely to Memnol, collectible at any time before, during, or after death, by any means he deemed fit, including but not limited to ripping her from the afterlife.

All of the contract was written in very small script, where many clauses referred to each other from dozens of pages away, only to be negated by some other clauses two pages back, which were in turn only conditionally permitted, and so on. It was a brutal and cruel labyrinth of legalese, bureaucracy, and semantics.

Blake did not get to see any of that, as Memnol simply flipped the books to the first page which was nearly blank, just opening the cover, and he tapped on an empty dotted circle, just to the right of a dotted line, which was above a solid line.

Memnol said, "Please stick out your left hand and suppress your aura."

She did so, and Memnol rather gently grabbed it with his own left, then pulled his dagger out with his right and made a very small and precise cut on the tip of her ring finger, to the point it didn't bleed unless squeezed. So he guided her hand above each of the dotted circles, and squeezed a single drop into each, then a single drop into each vial, then released her hand.

Memnol said as he got out a simple pen, then signed his own name on each solid line in an extremely precise script, even for Infernal, "You may let your aura function as normal now. Sign your full true name on each dotted line."

Blake took the pen she was handed and signed three times.

Her sixth sense went silent entirely after the first signing, leaving her only hearing the gentle sound of pen on paper and fire crackling in the background.

Memnol smiled a genuine smile and said, "It's been good working with you Ms. Belladonna. You can rest assured that your instructions will be followed, and all that you've listed will be saved in some manner."

He lost the smile and said, "Now then," he handed her one of the contracts and vials, "This one is your copy," He tucked another pair away into his bag, "That one is my copy," lifted the last, "And I'll see to it that this one will be stored in a safe-deposit box only openable with both of our legal approvals, within the span of one week."

Memnol continued, regaining the smile, "With all of that done, I would recommend you go off to dinner Ms. Belladonna. I can be messaged if needed, but I'll be going into town to handle said deposit box. A pleasant evening to you."

Blake responded in kind and went to go see the rest of her team and friends, feeling a great weight off of her shoulders, no longer worried for her friends, and managing to not worry for herself.

The Mantlean legend of Faust was just that anyways, an old legend, even if it did help remind her of Memnol's tendency towards deals.

Blake thought, "I mean, at worst, I probably just owe him a lot of money or something. I can make that back. Besides, however much it was," She thought back to days of playing tag among the sands, sitting waist-deep in the shallow sea to cool down, Orange always making the same 'Oranges to apples' joke whenever the teen who seemed so big at the time would offer Blake the fruit, who she knew now would make it, "It was worth it."