"Of course, demons won't teach, so we just need a different target." Ignoring Aura's scoffing, Ash walked ahead without looking back. "But for now, let's leave this place."
"Alright, alright." Aura, uninterested, wiped tears from laughing and followed him out of the village.
Before leaving, Ash set fire to the houses, letting the village burn, then turned away from the place they once lived.
But not long after, Aura, looking annoyed, nudged his stomach with her elbow. "So, where to next? I heard there's a Demon King in the north. Want to check it out?"
"I'm thinking about that."
"Got any ideas?"
"I said I'm thinking."
"Like what?"
"You're annoying. Tone it down."
"No way, I'm fine." Aura puffed out her chest, refusing, but before she could finish, Ash slapped a hand over her face, silencing her.
Pushing the bothersome Aura aside, he quickened his pace, frowning as he pondered their next move.
If possible, he didn't want to wander anymore. Joining the Demon King might be better?
After leaving the village, Ash didn't know if the villagers revealed that demons had lived there, but with the demon massacre, the area would become more dangerous for them.
Troubled, he glanced at Aura, sulking nearby but back on her magic bull.
Though he didn't want to deal with her, noticing his gaze, Aura couldn't resist asking, "What? Decided yet?"
"Let's head back for now. We can talk while moving."
He mounted a wolf, keeping some distance from Aura, continuing to think about their next steps.
Back at their simple wooden shack, he sat on a rough wooden couch, looking at the carefree girl across from him, sighing. "Seriously, we need to leave. Staying here, we'll get surrounded and wiped out eventually."
"You better protect me. I'd be in trouble if something happened."
"That's what I was going to say. But now's not the time for that, right?" He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Our bond is pretty deep, though. You're really my sister."
"Forget that. Where should we go?"
"North, to the demon stronghold."
"North after all? Well, I'm fine with it."
Since Ash had decided, Aura didn't bother overthinking, standing to pack.
Demons weren't immune to procrastination, but when survival was at stake, they were diligent, and Aura was no exception.
After deciding, they packed and prepared that day to cross the continent northward to the demon gathering place.
It wasn't loyalty to other demons or the Demon King, as demons were loyal only to themselves. They just wanted to avoid being killed.
Though demons often killed each other, with the weak ruthlessly trampled, sometimes they were ignored, better than fighting humans on sight.
Humans weren't much different, often killing and oppressing the weak, but demons were more ruthlessly predatory, while humans had more social structure, though with more perverse ways of tormenting the weak.
Maybe both saw each other as abnormal, but they had no energy to ponder philosophical or sociological issues now.
Thanks to Ash's hornless appearance, their northward journey was surprisingly smooth.
The beast horde moved through the jungle alone, with Ash driving a carriage up front, while Aura, dressed like a Middle Eastern woman with her head tightly wrapped, played the lady in the back.
"Ugh, so boring. Ash, tell me a joke." Aura's complaints came from the carriage, but he shot back without thinking, "Stop bothering me. I'm reading."
"That new book? What's interesting about human history? You're so weird."
"I don't want to be ignorant like you." He occasionally flicked the horses, eyes fixed on a recent purchase from town, studying the world's history.
While occasionally humoring the chatty Aura, he found something intriguing in the tattered, nearly crumbling ancient history book, a free gift.
"Five hundred years ago, Flamme, the Great Mage, started an era where anyone could learn magic, and she had an even stronger teacher, considered the closest to the Goddess, the Great Mage Serie?"
Carefully flipping through the damaged book, Ash felt he'd uncovered a forgotten, remarkable figure, musing, "If I could study under her, Flamme's magic from five hundred years ago already surpassed this era. Serie must be far stronger."
"Those two wouldn't teach demons, right?" Aura poked her head out, resting her chin on his shoulder, dousing his hopes coldly.
"Just musing. It's been five hundred years. No one knows if Serie's alive." He grimaced as her horns poked his temple. "Your horns are hurting me. Stop leaning on me next time."
He felt only regret for the legendary mage, mentioned in just one line.
If he had a teacher, the world's strongest mage, he wouldn't have hidden in the mountains, and the village tragedy might not have happened. After reading the book, he often thought this.
But it was just a thought. Time travel was a pipe dream.
For a while, they traveled slowly, pondering where to settle and continue their magic studies.
In the cold, damp morning air, as the sun rose, their lone carriage rolled along a seemingly endless, desolate road. As they neared the border, a group of heavily armed soldiers blocked the way.
"Wartime border restrictions?" Ash frowned, troubled, as Aura's voice came from behind. "Just kill them?"
"Not unless we have to. What if there are more troops nearby?"
"Fine, fine, whatever you say." Aura gave up arguing.
Ash stepped down from the carriage, approaching the soldiers, pulling money from his pocket to bribe his way through, but things went unexpectedly.
These soldiers weren't the usual bribe-takers. They intended to take him, letting the young-looking Aura go.
The situation was clear: conscription.
In wartime, dragging people for labor or soldiering was common, explaining why the road was empty. Locals knew soldiers were grabbing recruits.
What to do? Fight them? Go along and escape later? Leave peacefully? After a moment's thought, he shook his head at Aura, watching from afar, and let himself be taken.
They parted ways.
Aura, briefly troubled, chose to detour, leaving the war-torn country for the north, thinking, "It's Ash. No way he'd die easily."
Without him, she avoided people, taking longer routes through forests.
Ash, lucky or not, was taken to a recruit camp, not forced labor, but a soldier.
When registering, he mentioned his magic, demonstrated it, and became a battlefield mage with decent treatment.
In the camp, the kingdom's magic was open to him, making him think he didn't need the north, studying magic daily.
But a month later, issued a military knife and mage robe, he marched with the army toward the enemy.
That night, the mage corps' mood was heavy. Many, like him, were conscripted, forced into an unwanted war.
Ash and three new teammates, as mages, had some privileges, riding in a carriage to save energy for battle, but...
"I'll die, I'll die, I'll die..." The young female mage opposite him huddled in the corner, face grim, repeating the same words.
Her trembling was noticeable.
The middle-aged woman beside him, whom he knew, stroked a letter from her daughter.
It wasn't odd. Soldiers often drew strength from family or lovers to survive this hell, even in another world.
The bearded old man diagonally across clutched a wooden Goddess statue, praying, though Ash knew he wasn't a Creation Goddess believer, just grasping at straws.
Whether that worked would be tested on the battlefield.
Compared to his teammates, Ash was the calmest.
Though the war and its hatreds weren't his, just a passerby, he was now entangled, however unwillingly.
Having survived the predatory forest and the village's small war, he fared better than others dragged into this.
Perhaps his calm made him the leader of their four-person carriage team.
"Hope this war ends soon."
Or better, find a chance to escape this hellhole? He kept the second half to himself, lifting the carriage curtain.
Outside, a vast, snow-covered plain stretched endlessly, with forests like emeralds dotting the snowy ground, glowing under the sky.
In the tedious march, it was already daytime, and the scenery captivated Ash.
The air carried the crisp scent of snow, marred by the sound of hooves trampling it.
After a while, a quiet town appeared at the snowfield's edge, looking desolate.
As the army neared, old houses and conscription notices filled his view, boring him instantly.
"It's daytime. After eating, we'll probably reach the front." He muttered, closing his eyes.
The Southern Lands rarely saw snow, but this highland was always covered, and both kingdoms fought for its control.
Near the town, in stark contrast to the beauty, were neatly arrayed armies.
The enemy front line was chaotic, unsurprisingly.
Leading it were children, averaging ten years old, boys and girls, eyes vacant, holding long swords, clearly cannon fodder and mental shields.
"Their parents don't object? No risk of riots? All orphans?" Ash muttered.
The middle-aged woman from his team, who had been opposite him, showed a complex expression. "What parents? They're war orphans."
"Really? We're better off then?"
"About the same. We still have some strength, but soon, who knows? Captain, if I die, can you care for my child? I don't want her to..."
"Wait, we just met a month ago, and you're asking this?"
"You're the calmest, so..."
"Only me?" He nodded silently, sighing. "Even if I escape this war, I won't stay here, so I can't agree."
"You're harsh. At a time like this, you should at least agree to comfort me."
"I don't like lying. You need to survive on your own."
Ignoring her tearful face, he focused, preparing for the imminent conflict.
After brief preparations, war drums echoed across the plain, and their army marched, raining arrows on the enemy's front-line fodder.
Mages followed, wands weaving powerful spells.
In the grim atmosphere, Ash blended in, tossing fireballs at the dense crowd to contribute minimally.
He planned to coast, maybe escape, but reality was grimmer than expected.
As the armies clashed, a cavalry unit burst from the flank, slicing through their support troops like a sharp sword, charging with raised blades.
Mages of this era cast slowly, ill-equipped for sudden assaults, hence the military knives.
Screams erupted around him as hell descended.
The world turned blood-red, comrades falling one by one, but his gravity magic shone in the chaos.
After hours of fighting, his team was mostly gone. The only survivor, the middle-aged woman who fought to the end for her daughter's letter, knelt, gasping, throat cut and bleeding.
"You're impressive. Does belief really boost survival?" Seeing her struggle, clutching her wound, as a priest approached, Ash was surprised, but...