"It's unrecognizable from twenty years ago. Remarkable."
"…Glad you approve."
A male demon, Lyugner, escorts a female demon with aristocratic grace—a picture-perfect scene. But no humans are present. Their horns betray their demon nature. Lyugner's composed facade hides his inner turmoil, embodying deception as a demon should.
(What am I doing…)
He's exasperated. He should be preparing for the peace talks with Granat in three days—a pivotal moment for Freesia, his greatest role in twenty years serving Aura. He could handle it alone, but Linie's tagging along, thanks to Draht's idiocy. Lyugner raised him to priest, only for him to ruin it. Young demons are too hot-blooded. Now he's stuck with Linie again.
Both priests, equal in rank, but not in power. Linie's stronger—her mana surpasses his, a fact he can't deny. Yet her behavior is unfit for a priest spreading Aura's influence, especially at talks. Why does Aura pair them? Her reasoning eludes him.
"…"
"Linie, that's rude."
Linie's silent, unlike her usual clingy chatter. Her expressionless face, rare for her, screams displeasure. The cause is obvious.
"Don't mind her. She's always like this, barely talks to me. Why does she hate me?"
The female demon, Solitär, clasps her hands, feigning distress. Lyugner's task, per Aura's secret order via Linie, is to monitor her—a potential threat to Freesia. Both assigned to watch her shows the gravity. Yet here he is, dragged along on her carefree city tour while Linie glares silently. He wants to leave.
"…Doesn't matter. I'm watching you because Lady Aura ordered it."
"Linie…!"
Lyugner nearly tsks as Linie blurts out their mission. What's she thinking—or not thinking? Is she even a demon? She's unfit for this task. Why did Aura choose her?
"You wanted to chat while touring Freesia? Guess I'll talk to him instead."
"Don't bother, Lyugner. She'll ramble anyway."
Solitär brushes off Linie's words, unfazed—an oddity herself. They clearly know each other. Linie's rare hostility intrigues him, but—
"My apologies, Lady Solitär. I'll guide you."
"No need for titles. You're higher-ranking here."
"That won't do. A guest and great demon deserves respect."
"You value propriety. Impressive. Aura chose well. But I'd love casual chat."
"Yes."
Lyugner sticks to duty, unlike Linie's disgrace. Solitär seems discerning, though still suspect.
(Linie says she's a great demon, but she doesn't seem it. Never heard of Solitär.)
Great Demon
A supreme title among demons, feared by humans and demons alike for vast mana and ancient age. Aura fits; this woman doesn't. She barely seems demonic.
(Her mannerisms… human-like. Mimicry rivaling Aura's.)
Her human-like behavior is uncanny, matching Aura's. Aura's makes sense—forced to serve humans, she adapted. But Solitär? She mentioned studying humans—maybe that's it.
(That death stench… definitely demonic.)
Her undeniable demonic aura reeks of death, rare in Freesia. It's overwhelming.
"You okay, Lyugner? She stinks—stay back. Want an apple?"
"No thanks. And that's too harsh, Linie."
"…"
"Thanks, but don't worry. Aura said the same. Step back if it's bad."
"No need for concern."
Linie, perceptive now, offers an apple—likely to curb her cannibalistic urges. Useless for Lyugner; his blessing is wine, not apples. Apples are handier, though. He chides Linie—demons may ignore gender, but there's a limit. She sulks, cheeks puffed, either from his defense of Solitär or her own mistake. Childish, despite her youth.
"Why hide your mana, Lady Solitär?"
He shifts topics, not idly. Her mana's barely detectable, like a low-tier beast's, similar to Linie's. It's why he doubts her great demon status and feels unease.
"Sorry if it offends. I'm a timid, anxious coward, not deceiving like Linie."
Was she aware or testing him? She claims it's not to trick, unlike Linie—maybe temporary concealment for conflict. Unfitting for a mage, but understandable. Why hide, though? From Freesia? It doesn't add up.
"Don't lump me with her."
Linie's grumble interrupts. She's upset at being demeaned. Solitär's obliviousness might fuel her dislike, alongside the stench.
"You weren't here when I was, Lyugner. When did you arrive?"
"About twenty years ago. Likely when you left. Freesia was smaller then."
"After moving here. Back then, we wandered the Central Countries, a mere faith group. Aura's efforts built this."
Solitär speaks eagerly, as if the chat wasn't a lie. Lyugner resists her deathly aura. Her question puzzles him.
"Why do you think Aura founded this nation?"
"Why ask the obvious? To avenge being driven out by humans."
It's clear. Freesia's on land where Aura was defeated by the Hero Party, enduring fifty years of servitude. No better stage to declare war on humans. Any Freesian demon would agree—a trivial question.
"Good, Lyugner. You're truly demonic. I'm relieved."
She smiles, satisfied, baffling him. What in his answer pleased her? She's odd.
"You've known Lady Aura long?"
He shifts topics, partly curious, partly covering Linie's antics. She's slouched on a fence, bored, swinging her legs—rude for a guest's presence. She's neglecting their surveillance duty, already compromised by her blunder.
"Since her Seven Sages days, but we grew close after the Hero's death. I heard of her starting a religion while studying humans in the Southern Countries' wars."
"Rumors?"
"A demon founding a religion—shocking yet fascinating. Unprecedented. It requires deep human understanding."
Her dreamy recollection echoes Lyugner's thoughts. Aura's changed since her Guillotine days. Freesia reflects this—using faith, a concept demons don't grasp, to dominate humans. Unthinkable by demon standards.
"You study humans too, yet can't do it?"
He wonders if she could. Her mimicry suggests it's possible.
"I could mimic it temporarily, but it's just parroting to deceive. We can't reach Aura's level. She's an anomaly—wonderful. I'm proud as her friend."
"Friend?"
"Yes. She rejected it, but I respect her as a researcher."
Friends—an alien concept. Her closeness to Aura is surprising. Linie, now still, glares at Solitär, maybe at "friend" or "anomaly." Lyugner's uneasy—she might act against Aura's orders to avoid conflict. Her loyalty to Aura is absolute, her judgment simple: friend or foe. He hopes she holds back.
"Researcher? Is Lady Aura studying something?"
"Yes, 'human-demon coexistence.' Or an experiment. I'm her collaborator—her 'accomplice,' she says."
Researcher, accomplice—unfitting for Aura, the absolute ruler. Is Solitär even talking to him? She rambles like Linie said.
"Coexistence? You mean domination. Freesia and nearby nations are under her control. Her foresight is astounding."
Coexistence, like equality, is a human fantasy. They're blind to their subjugation—Aura's strategy. Brute force is unnecessary; deception is a demon's weapon. Aura embodies this.
"So that's how you see it. All part of her plan?"
Solitär smiles, as if just realizing, hands clasped. Her human studies might've dulled her demonic sense.
"What's that? A farm?"
"Yes, the agricultural department. They use magic for farming."
Walking, Solitär notices a facility with vast fields, where humans and demons work—a common Freesia sight, but not to her.
"Demons using folk magic for farming?"
"Exactly. Unthinkable, but it's policy—to integrate economically with neighbors."
Her insight stands out. She's no ordinary demon, spotting it instantly. Using magic for menial tasks was hard to accept, but it's Aura's doctrine.
Labor, money, economy—human essentials. Freesia's demons learn these alongside blessings. Demons take or receive; bartering exists, but might rules. Humans differ—money equates to mana, strength. Wealth brings status, even for heroes. It's a collective human trait, creating inequality they reject. Contradictory. Survival favors the strong, yet their texts preach equality. Incomprehensible.
Solitär grasps this instantly—or always did. Her human mimicry suggests deep knowledge. A worthy friend of Aura.
"Amazing… treating demons as labor, magic as tools. Many human nations tried and failed. Know why?"
"No…"
"Mages are rare. The Continental Magic Church, over fifty years old, hasn't grown mage numbers—they've dwindled since the Demon King's fall."
Her knowledge surpasses expectations, her excitement palpable, words rushing.
"Human nations couldn't use precious mages for labor—needed for defense, demon hunts, other tasks."
She talks on, heedless of his confusion, growing technical. Linie's attitude worsens—she's sitting on the ground, yawning openly.
"Here, Freesia can. You demon mages make crops with a fraction of human effort, across all fields. Trading this dominates economies. Aura could become a second Demon King—or surpass him."
Solitär concludes, satisfied. Lyugner barely follows, but her logic holds—using demon mages to invade human economies, another servitude magic. Above all—
"Only Aura could impress a great demon like you."
Solitär's insight proves her worth. Her flower-shaped holy staff pendant, a rare symbol of Freesia's founders, catches his eye. Linie and that old human priest have one; he doesn't. It suits useful demons like her.
"Sorry, I ramble—a bad habit. Linie's bored. Another stop?"
"Finally done? You talk too much."
"Linie, mind your manners. Where next?"
Linie's bluntness needs work. A demon bad at lying—what is she?
"The scriptures department, please. I helped make them. I'm eager to see how they've changed in twenty years."
"Let's go, Lyugner. Leave her."
"That's not our job, Linie."
Linie storms off, hating Solitär, ignoring their surveillance duty she already botched. Lyugner sighs.
"Exception" and "Unknown"
Lyugner, caught between two heretical demon women, fails to notice Solitär's gaze—watching him like a researcher observing a lab animal.
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