Not long after, in a tavern.
Orsaga and Alison sat face to face in a private booth.
"Mmm… the taste isn't bad."
Holding a glass of some fragrant, unknown liquor, Orsaga took a light sip and nodded in satisfaction.
Since he didn't know which drinks were considered good, he had simply told the server to bring him the same thing Alison had ordered.
Seeing his satisfied expression, Alison chuckled lightly. "Is this your first time trying it? I remember Karna fruit wine is actually quite well-known."
Orsaga nodded. "Yeah, first time. I usually just ask the bartender for a recommendation. Rarely pick something myself."
Then he asked something that had been on his mind. "So what brings you here? I thought you were stationed on the front lines?"
"A few months ago, I got ambushed and injured by a Greater-ranking demon while I was fighting another one. The nature of the injury was… special. I needed a certain kind of rare potion to recover quickly, so I was transferred here—one of the few places with a supply. That's also how Golarial ended up mentioning you—just casual talk while visiting me."
"I see. Sounds like things are pretty rough over there, if even someone like you got seriously hurt."
Sensing the faint instability in Alison's aura—though her core was clearly recovering—Orsaga concluded she had mostly healed, which was probably why she felt like going out again. A heavily injured demigod wouldn't have the energy to go wandering around town.
"Yeah, it's been bad. After the collapse of the front Line, the second line of defense was thrown together in a rush. Even though we poured in everything we had to reinforce it, the quality just wasn't up to par. It lasted less than six months before the demon tide overwhelmed it.
"After that, with no proper defensive line, the battles became even more brutal and drawn-out. We're hit with dozens of raids every single day, and all we can really do is throw bodies at the problem…"
By the end of her words, Alison's gaze had dimmed.
It didn't take much analysis for Orsaga to realize the truth: the brutality of war always ran deeper than anyone cared to say aloud. In times like these, it wasn't just the enemy you had to watch out for—your own side could be just as chaotic.
When victory seemed possible, people would fight shoulder to shoulder. But the moment the tide turned, some wanted to hold the line… others just wanted to run.
The same old story…
That said, countries farther from the front wouldn't just sit back and do nothing. In order to maintain a buffer zone, they'd offer support—supplies, reinforcements—whatever it took to buy more time. Because if that frontline fell, they'd be next.
And that was the worst-case scenario.
Unless someone was under the influence of abyssal corruption, no idiot would choose this moment to stab those frontline nations in the back. Even long-standing rivals—ones who'd normally wish death upon each other's entire bloodline—had to grit their teeth, tighten their belts, and ship resources in desperation, praying their "good buddies" could hold out just a little longer.
So Orsaga didn't believe the demonic disaster would expand too wildly in the short term.
After all, the strong in this world weren't just for show. This was a high-tier world—they were elite warriors raised by its very ecosystem. Even the weakest among them had a baseline level of competence.
Unless, of course… another anomaly popped up.
Another exceptional demon descended—one just as powerful and broken as himself.
That would be a problem.
It wasn't likely, but it wasn't impossible either. The Abyss was full of hidden talents. It wouldn't be strange at all if a few more cheat-level freaks slipped through the cracks.
Each one a walking catastrophe—you couldn't help but want to beat them to death on sight.
"It's definitely a brutal fight," Alison said, nodding. "But with the heritage of all these nations combined, the situation should stabilize eventually. The abyssal demons aren't united, either. Once they realize there's no profit to be made, the attacks should slow down."
Based on his own kind's nature, Orsaga offered some brutally honest analysis.
He knew those lunatics all too well.
If they couldn't kill the enemy, killing each other worked just as well.
Alison seemed slightly reassured by his words and nodded again.
Her years of experience manning that front line had taught her one thing for sure: the demons of the Abyss were utter chaos. Undisciplined. Disorganized.
Their only sense of teamwork was in charging and retreating.
Beyond that? Total madness. A battle with them always devolved into a wild brawl, and often, just as many demons died at each other's hands as they did at the hands of their enemies.
It was that very flaw that allowed Alison and her fellow defenders to hold the line despite being vastly outnumbered.
"Your analysis makes a lot of sense. Right now, our top concern is tracking down the mastermind who created the cursed plague that destroyed the front Line."
"That individual poses the greatest threat to all nearby nations. They're a destabilizing factor that could sway the entire war. We need to find and eliminate them as soon as possible."
"Even after years of research, we still don't have an effective way to counter that curse. If it's used again in a different location, there's a high chance history could repeat itself."
"We've already reported everything to the Central Command Council. They've distributed all the data to every country, urging them to prepare in advance and avoid another tragedy."
As she spoke, her mind drifted back to that bizarre demon she'd once fought.
Everything about him—from his strange armor to the way he fought—left a deep impression. Despite only being a High-rank demon, his combat ability far exceeded most Greater-Rank demons.
Even with two demigods working together, they had been gradually pushed onto the back foot.
If he hadn't sensed reinforcements approaching and made a strategic retreat, she and Emosen might not have made it out alive.
Even so, Emosen had ended up bedridden for a month. He lost an arm and had his internal organs infected by the poison laced on the demon's blade. Had it not been for emergency treatment, he might not have survived.
Based on pure instinct, Alison couldn't shake the feeling that the red-armored demon was somehow connected to the one responsible for the plague. She had quietly pulled a lot of strings trying to locate that red demon, hoping to use him as a lead.
But she found nothing.
Which only made her more certain—there was a secret behind that demon. One too deep to ignore. He had vanished too completely.
As for the theory that the red demon was the plague caster?
She hadn't really considered it.
Their skillsets were worlds apart—one specialized in curses and plagues, the other in fire-based combat. It just didn't line up. Totally different domains. There was no way they were the same person.
Besides, she couldn't believe a High-rank demon could single-handedly overpower two demigods, shrug off psionic assaults from a team of demigod mages, and unleash a continent-wide plague.
Just thinking about it felt absurd.
"If there were more of those, the whole World would be doomed…"
She shook her head slightly and pushed the thought aside.
What she didn't notice… was Orsaga's expression suddenly shifting beside her.
His innate ability had triggered.
Someone nearby was either complimenting his strength… or his looks!
And they were very close!
After a quick scan, he zeroed in on Alison.
She was the only one nearby with enough power for her thoughts to trigger his passive talent. The average weakling wouldn't even register unless they screamed it out loud—and nobody else around was yelling.
'She's never seen me fight in this form,' he reasoned,
'so she probably doesn't know how strong I really am.
Which means… she must be thinking I'm handsome!'
'This elf woman's got taste!'
Alison Favorability +5!
_
T/N:
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