"Humor you, huh?"
"Yeah. Your 'consultation.' I've put up with yours enough."
Eisen's surprised, caught off guard—rare for him. Understandable. I'm shocked myself. Payback for enduring their debates. Time to balance the scales.
"Consultation? Un-demonic word."
"Agreed."
I mean it. I'm likely the only demon who'd do this. Others might mimic, but not with understanding.
"What's this about?"
"Guess."
I test him. They're freakishly perceptive, reading people—something I still struggle with. The Hero's Party excels at it, like foresight to demons.
"…Linie?"
Of course, Eisen nails it. He'd see through my clumsy intentions.
"Impressive. You know her better than Himmel, in a way."
I'm impressed, though it's obvious. Eisen's closer to Linie than me, maybe even Himmel. As a dwarf, a long-lived race, he gets demons differently from humans like Himmel or Heiter.
"What do you want to know?"
Rarely on the back foot, or unsure of the topic, Eisen probes quietly.
"Her actions… habits. These fifty years with Himmel, I didn't notice, but she's warped as a demon. More than me."
I state it plainly—my consultation. Linie's recent behavior, these two months, stands out. Unfathomable actions, a warped dissonance. More demonic than me.
"You admit you're warped?"
"Recently, yes. I'm me, but to other demons, I'm the odd one."
Eisen's jab hits an unexpected angle. I'd have denied it before, but not now. I'm still a proud demon, just with something new added. I didn't see it all—Gross showed me that. I've changed, and I'm starting to accept it, or maybe I've given up.
"That's beside the point. Linie's mimicking Himmel, but it's inconsistent."
Linie matters now. A demon, still copying the Hero post-freedom, but her actions are off, disjointed.
I recount the past two months to Eisen, including my sin—Vir's incident. Clumsy, but he listens silently, intently. This must be confession. I loathed hearing theirs, yet here I am. Like Himmel, needing to share despite knowing it's futile. I feel lighter for it.
"Why's she like this? You'd know."
After finishing, I ask again. Linie's dissonance isn't just Vir. Other human encounters felt off. She acts like Himmel would, but it doesn't mesh, sometimes jarringly inconsistent. Not like the past fifty years.
"Simple. You're fooled by Linie."
"Me? By her?"
Eisen, eyes closed, reveals it. A demonic truth, obvious yet invisible to me. I'm clueless.
"Yes. Fifty years made you see her as a human child, Himmel's mouthpiece. She's not. She's been a demon, unchanged, more than you."
He continues, unfazed by my shock. I'm blind to it, like I missed Gross's attack. Too obvious, too close.
"She mimics Himmel without understanding, like demons use words. Like you once did."
Linie's just deceiving, as demons do, honoring our contract to survive. Like all demons.
"So… I've been tricked by her."
Laughable. I ordered it, yet fell for it. I thought her exceptional, blending into human society better than me. Demons aren't used to being deceived. I'm no better than others. She's like Frieren, deceiving lifelong—humans or demons. Even Himmel and Heiter aren't immune, unconsciously seeing her as human despite knowing she's a demon. She's the most demonic demon.
"Her mimicry's that good. But freedom, without Himmel's environment, exposes cracks."
Her mimicry's flawless, but the world's changed. No neighbors understand her demon nature; Himmel's gone. That's why she seems warped.
"Your story proves it. She knew letting Gross go meant human deaths but didn't connect it to the village attack."
Her warning about Gross—she knew he'd kill, that Himmel wouldn't let him go. I stopped her, and she dropped it, forgetting by morning. She didn't link Vir's absence to Gross. She mimics Himmel's actions moment-to-moment, without grasping their meaning, lacking continuity. It looks disjointed.
"She's young. Childish. Human and demon fifty years differ. Don't lump her with Stark or Lily."
Eisen says it's natural. Linie's young for a demon, needing another fifty years to mature. I mixed her with human-aged Stark and Lily, raised together. They're still kids to me.
"She's like you when you first came here, after meeting Heiter, picking up Linie. Himmel shaped her in fifty years. That's his feat—and limit."
He chooses words I understand. I recall that time—desperate to escape Himmel, grappling with atonement, family. Linie's in that phase. Doesn't seem like it, but Eisen's tone—rarely pessimistic about Himmel—catches me. Why?
"If you reverted to your old self, what would Linie do?"
A bigger question—an alternate future.
"I…"
I falter. Not impossible. If I returned to the Guillotine, Linie might follow. Himmel would've stopped me, even killed me, as a Hero stops a Demon King. Would Linie, with his sword, do the same? A chill runs through my neck.
"She'd follow you, even against Himmel's teachings. She's your servant, a demon."
A worse chill hits. She could become like me—natural for demons, bound as master and servant. She wouldn't stop me like Himmel. She can't, mimicking without understanding.
"She could tilt human or demon. Precarious, like you once were."
She's like me, wavering between Guillotine and Scale, demon and human.
I clutch the silver freesia. Losing it, I chose. I recall that struggle. Eisen says she'll face a similar trial, questioning her demonic self. I had Himmel. She needs someone.
"That's why Himmel entrusted her to you. He, human, can't live alongside her forever."
I realize. Himmel's unspoken will. He entrusted her sword to her, and her to me, knowing he couldn't fulfill that role.
"What am I supposed to do…?"
I'm at a loss. I'm not him. I can't do this.
"You're saying raise her…"
Raise her. Parenting. Himmel entrusted it to me, but I don't get it. Why?
"I'm a demon. I can't parent."
He knew I'm a demon. We don't parent. I left Linie's upbringing to him. They were master and disciple, but like parent and child. I can't take that on. It's impossible.
"No need. Just be you."
"…What?"
Eisen's affirmation stops me.
"No special effort. She'll mimic you now, not Himmel. That's your demon parenting. Just care a bit, try to know her. That's enough for demons."
He strokes his beard, speaking gently, envisioning the future. Like when he helped me find my lost accessory, affirming my demonic nature. No need to force human ways. We're demons. My current actions are parenting enough.
"What… All that, and it's just stay the same?"
"Maybe."
Typical. All that talk for this. Cunning bastard.
"No worries. Linie's got fifty years to adulthood. I'll help till then."
He adds, offering aid. Maybe that's all he wanted to say. Dwarves live about three hundred years. Not sure his age, but he plans to stick around fifty more. Wouldn't be shocked if he outlives that.
"Oh? I'll count on you, 'Dad'?"
"Leave it to me. I'm a warrior."
I'll let him. His choice. No hesitation. I tease, calling him Dad—Linie's, not human-style. Himmel might be jealous. Eisen retorts, warrior-like, as expected.
Exasperated, we drink into the night, like before—
"Off we go, Eisen!"
"Careful. Got everything?"
"Yup! Both swords!"
Linie flaunts her Hero's Swords, thrilled. She might go dual-wielding. No lies—she's genuine.
"Really leaving?"
"Yeah. Can't stay forever."
I adjust my cloak and bag. A week's stay, but quick for Eisen. Demons could linger a year, but no point.
"Right. The south's rough now…"
"I know. We're demons. No need to worry."
Eisen hesitates. The south's at war, human malice swirling. A human would worry, but we're demons. No issue.
Staying in the central lands means Scale-related trouble. The north's worse—I'm still the Guillotine there, sparking fights. South's the choice. I need to see war's malice as the Scale, to resist it without Heiter's protection. Plus—
"Isn't adventure going to new places, meeting new people, seeing new sights?"
Their own words. I don't get it, but I'll mimic it. Just to kill boredom.
"True. I'll wait in the capital after the meteors."
"Weren't you fleeing post-meteors?"
"Forgot. Age makes you forgetful."
Eisen chuckles, outwitted. I'll let it slide—his face is enough.
We depart without looking back, Linie and I, to unseen lands—