Smoke from the burning village could still be seen rising into the sky even though it was already midday. The pungent smell of blood clung to the wind, spreading from village to village like an inescapable plague.
In the small market town of Guildfort, an elderly merchant suddenly fell to his knees, gasping for breath. His clothes were in tatters, his face ashen, like someone who had just witnessed death. "R-Riversholt VILLAGE… DESTROYED!! Everyone… everyone slaughtered!!" he shouted in a hoarse voice that shattered the silence of the market.
His words caused the surrounding crowd to freeze like statues. The buying and selling activity suddenly stopped, and the fruit being weighed fell to the ground. For a moment, a tense silence engulfed the crowd before panic erupted like a dam breaking.
"Slaughtered?!" a mother cried, clutching her child tightly. "By bandits?!" another merchant cried, terrified.
"No…" the fallen merchant whispered, his eyes staring blankly at the ground. "They say it's a demon... but... no ordinary demon..."
Rumors spread fast, far faster than the smoke still rising in the distance. The word "demon" brought back old images—bitter memories of the demon war that hadn't occurred in their land for years. Memories they thought had been buried with the heroes of the past.
But this time... the rumors were different and more terrifying. "He's no ordinary demon. There's a figure... leading them with unimaginable power," whispered a cloth vendor in a trembling voice.
"They say... the demon wears a mask... and his power is mixed with light..." added another in disbelief.
The word light made everyone shudder. Light was supposed to belong to the gods, a symbol of virtue and holiness. How could a demon wield it?
Inside the Church of Eternal Light's grand cathedral, white-clad priests and silver-armored paladins gathered in an emergency council. The atmosphere was silent and tense, except for the heavy footsteps of the senior paladin who had just entered with a grim expression.
An elderly bishop with a long white beard cleared his throat and then spoke loudly, breaking the silence: "We have received word that the village of Riversholt has been razed to the ground. No one survived. And this was no ordinary demon attack, but something far more terrible."
He laid a thick report on a long, polished wooden table. The papers were stained with dark brown stains—dried blood. "The testimony of the only witness who managed to escape speaks of a masked demon wielding the power of light that should belong only to the gods. This is a desecration of all that is sacred, a new curse unlike any we have ever faced."
A young, blond paladin slammed his iron gauntlet against the table, making a resounding thud.
"Impossible! Light is a sacred gift! No filthy demon could wield it! This must be a lie!"
But the Bishop stared at him with piercing coldness. "And that's what makes him far more dangerous than any demon we've ever faced. This is a threat even previous demon lords have never been able to overcome. Even the Bow Hero was severely wounded fighting this creature."
A long, tense silence fell over the room. Only the large candles swayed in the night breeze, their light dancing across the grim faces of the attendees.
"If even Elrodan can be defeated…" an elderly priest whispered in a trembling voice. "Then who can face this monster?"
Finally, one of the gray-haired senior paladins rose from his chair and spoke in a deep voice, "If this rumor is true, then we are no longer facing just another demon. We are facing something new, something extremely dangerous and unprecedented in history. The Church must act immediately. And we must contact all the remaining heroes. Has there been any news from Hero Elrodan? How is he now?"
"Still in intensive care at the northern monastery," a priest answered worriedly. "His injuries are… very serious. He lost his left arm, his right arm is also broken, and there are strange burns on his chest that refuse to heal even with advanced healing magic."
The bishop nodded heavily. "Send messengers to all the remaining heroes. We need the Sword Hero, the Magic Hero, and the Shield Hero. Also contact the allied kingdoms. This threat isn't just to the Church and the elves, but to all races."
"What about the people?" asked the young paladin from earlier. "They are already starting to panic. Guildfort's marketplace is nearly empty, and people are afraid to leave their homes."
"Provide extra protection for the border villages," the Bishop ordered sternly. "Send out paladin patrols every night. And prepare holy barriers around the major cities. We don't know when the monster will attack again."
That night, the city bells tolled repeatedly with a somber tone. The emergency chimes, unheard for decades, echoed once again, awakening the horrific memories of the past demon war.
The church's forces began to mobilize in makeshift formations. Dozens of silver-armored paladins were dispatched to border villages with supplies of food and medicine. Messengers galloped toward the royal capital to warn the King of this new threat.
In taverns, adventurers' guilds, and street corners, people whispered anxiously. Merchants closed their shops early, and parents called their children indoors before sunset.
But among the frightened whispers, one phrase was heard most often, uttered with fear and dread:
"A new demon has risen. A different kind of demon... a demon who uses holy light for evil."
Farmers stopped working in the fields as the sun began to set. The city gatekeepers doubled their night patrols. Even seasoned adventurers looked nervous and frequently glanced into the shadows.
And far away in Lockwood Village, word of this spreading panic reached me—like a spring breeze carrying news of my sweet little victory, while also luring old enemies out of their hiding places.