Beneath a sky stained blood-red by the setting sun, the battlefield lay heavy with death.
Despite Ash's gravity magic, once the spell lifted the beasts were slaughtered, and the village's strongest young men collapsed lifeless on the ground.
Yet even so, the elite light cavalry—who should have easily butchered the village—had been reduced to only three survivors.
Bloodied and battered, their armor dented and cracked, the three cavalrymen hardly looked victorious.
"It's just a village… and it's come to this…" Maynard, the captain, an elite among elites, shook his head. His eyes locked onto Aura, who looked frail and unwell, troubled and clearly powerless. Gripping his sword tightly, he advanced.
"You damn demons! Die!"
"Hhh…"
A faint, ragged breath slipped across the suffocating battlefield, almost too quiet to notice.
Ash, whose throat had been pierced by the spike and who by all rights should have been dead, rose to his feet in silence.
His figure wavered in the crimson afterglow, like a specter stepping out of the shadows. He had been lying in wait for this single chance.
Moving like a ghost, Ash appeared behind Maynard. With one motion, he ripped the spike from his own neck, blood spraying in a crimson arc. Then—without hesitation—he drove it straight into the exposed gap of Maynard's armor at the neck.
"—Gah?!!"
Maynard's eyes bulged wide, for the first time showing fear—pure despair—yet he couldn't even turn his head.
Blood erupted from his throat like a fountain. His body crumpled, falling to its knees as a whisper colder than death itself spilled from behind him:
"…Your understanding of demons—and of me—isn't nearly deep enough. Wounds like these aren't enough to kill me."
"Wha—?!"
"Captain?!"
The remaining cavalrymen stared in shock.
Ash planted his foot on Maynard's shoulder, forcing him down as he yanked the spike free. The captain collapsed, powerless, crashing into the dirt.
"You bastard!"
"—Monster!!"
The two surviving cavalrymen cursed, rushing forward with blades raised to avenge their fallen commander.
Ash only looked at them once. Calmly, silently, he raised his hand.
Gravity slammed down again. Their already exhausted bodies buckled, forced to their knees under the unbearable weight of their own armor.
Their curses and desperate pleas rang hollow as Ash repeated the grim task. One after another, the spike found the gaps in their armor. And then it was over.
Finished, Ash sat down heavily against one of the fallen cavalry, exhaling a long breath in the thick pool of blood.
"Really… why do I end up going this far for the sake of human squabbles?"
"But~ isn't this world fascinating?" Aura's mocking voice broke the silence. She crouched before him, resting her chin on her hands, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.
"…Maybe."
Ash ignored her and lowered his head, staring at his bloodstained hands as his thoughts drifted far away.
It had been his first time killing a human. Yet there was no fear in him, no trembling, no hesitation. Why? Was it the demon blood in his veins, or the countless monsters he had slain before this day? He didn't know.
The villagers had won, but no one celebrated. A heavy sorrow blanketed the village.
There were dead in nearly every household. Under the trembling commands of the old chief, they gathered their strength to deal with the corpses. Plans were made to sell the armor and weapons of the cavalry in a few days' time.
Ash watched them in silence, fingers brushing the bandaged wound on his neck. His thoughts turned inward, calculating when it would be best to leave.
Aura stood nearby, that sly, unreadable smile playing on her lips. She toyed idly with a set of scales in her hands and spoke slowly, as if musing aloud.
"Tell me, Ash… if I used obedience magic on you right now, what do you think would happen?"
"…Your magic is still riddled with flaws. Strength dominates weakness, and the stronger the target, the greater the chance of resisting. Are you sure I've really exhausted all my magic?"
"Mmm~ that is a problem, isn't it?" Aura grinned innocently, shaking the scales with a light clatter. "I've improved the control issue a little, but fair gambling magic is still pretty disadvantageous for a young demon like me."
"…Your sorcery is full of flaws. You'd be better off abandoning it and studying something else," Ash replied, pale from blood loss, shaking his head.
"Thanks for your concern. But if we're on equal footing, it's impossible for me to lose. So… are you jealous?"
"…Think what you like."
A pierced neck wasn't fatal for a demon unless the head was severed outright, but even so, fatigue weighed heavily on Ash now. He truly had no interest in bantering with her.
He rose unsteadily and started toward the village, intent on resting before deciding his next move.
Aura trailed after him, skipping playfully, her chatter endless and grating. To Ash, she had never seemed more irritating.
After a short rest in the battered village, Ash refused the villagers' pleas to stay. He accepted food, most of the village's coin, and Maynard's sword before departing. The villagers waved him off reluctantly.
The truth was clear: word of the cavalry's deaths here would spread quickly. Too much attention would fall on this place. Staying was impossible.
And though stripping the village of its money seemed harsh, the cavalry's armor and weapons were worth far more. With those, the villagers would have the means to rebuild.
Half a year later…
Ash and Aura, driving a new herd of beasts, wandered back out of curiosity. On the outskirts of the village, they expected to see prosperity restored.
Instead, what they found was nothing like what they had imagined.