The journey across the borders was as methodical and discreet as Devyus had planned. They crossed the ruins passage without incident: neither traces of wild beasts nor hunters that could hinder their path, just as predicted.
From the third day, as a precaution, the three siblings moved like ghosts along the less-traveled paths winding between the Fire Nation and the Thunder Nation.
After the third day, they altered their movement patterns: during the day, they rested in caves or dense groves, maintaining constant vigilance.
At night, they ran, their human forms moving at supernatural speeds that blurred the landscape. But after the second day, they were careful not to leave any spiritual energy traces that could give them away.
By the fourth day, the air suddenly changed. The dense forest scent and damp earth of the Fire Nation gradually gave way to a drier breeze, tinged with the faint smell of ozone and burnt metal that heralded the vast plains and industrial centers of the Thunder Nation. They were close.
The change was so sudden that any outsider would have guessed where the Metal Nation began. The green, forested terrain gave way to arid land. They were out of reach of those pursuing them, arriving just as the first rays of sunlight caressed the desolate land.
It was on this no-man's land, on a dusty path flanked by rocky cliffs, that the predictability of human nature revealed itself.
Suddenly, something happened. The ex-Lord stopped abruptly, fixing his gaze on the rocky trail ahead.
"No caravan passes here without leaving traces," he thought. "And those marks and that smell of—"
Gunpowder.
His sisters exchanged glances; all three had already read the trap before seeing it.
"Halt, travelers!" a rough voice shouted from above.
Twelve figures emerged from behind the rocks, blocking the path ahead and behind. They were coarse men, wearing worn and dirty clothes, wielding crudely made but lethal repeating rifles. Their faces were marked by greed and harshness. Simple bandits—predators hunting the border.
Devyus stopped, raising a hand to signal the twins to do the same. His eyes calculated the situation instantly. No spiritual energy. Just armed brute strength. Not a threat. A nuisance.
"Cute group," said the leader, a man with an eye patch and a toothless grin. "Those fine clothes… must be worth something. The women look valuable too. Do you know what they pay for skin like that in the northern foundries? Give us everything, including the girls, and maybe we'll let you live." He laughed, aiming his rifle directly at Devyus's chest.
Catherine made a move to step forward, but an almost imperceptible shake of her younger sister's head stopped her.
"Onii-sama ordered us not to use our abilities," she whispered.
Devyus looked at the leader with disdain.
"We have nothing of value for you. Let us pass and forget this unpleasant encounter."
The group responded with mocking laughter.
"Hey, did you hear that? What a funny guy!" The leader pulled the trigger.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three shots rang out from the barrel. The projectiles struck Devyus's chest with enough force to stagger him backward. He brought his hands to his chest, where three dark crimson stains began to spread over his bare torso.
He emitted a muffled sound, eyes wide in exaggerated shock, then collapsed heavily onto the dusty path, arms outstretched, seemingly lifeless.
"Onii-sama!" Catherine screamed, genuinely surprised—not by the damage, but by the performance.
"Boss! You killed him!" one of the men laughed.
"Bah, he asked for it. Now, about the girls…" The leader lowered his rifle and approached the sisters with clear intentions, who had huddled together, feigning panic.
The leader's steps were slow and deliberate, his rifle still smoking from the shots, ready to fire again if there was resistance. Yet the sight of the two young women wrapped around their fallen brother demonstrated that he had control of the situation.
"Come on, beauties. A new home awaits. We'll be gentle if you behave," the man laughed, seeing the sobbing sisters. "We'll make sure the people who buy you treat you well."
He touched the green-haired girl's shoulder in a twisted, paternal manner.
It was his final mistake.
Her hand detached rapidly from his arm, in a slice so fast and clean that the bandit barely noticed until he realized his hand was gone, letting out a primitive scream as blood spurted from the now-stump.
The façade of fear on the green-haired succubus's face instantly transformed into cold, demonic fury.
"Disgusting insects. You think you can touch a Venomania with your primitive hands and get away with it??"
Before the bandit could react, the demon's hand moved in a flash. A long-barreled dueling pistol, elegantly carved in jet black with golden details, appeared out of nowhere in her hand.
BANG!
The shot was clean and precise, hitting the leader's forehead and ending his suffering. His surprised expression froze forever as his body fell still.
The remaining attackers, shocked, raised their rifles—but Katherine was already in motion. With the grace of a deadly dancer, her arm arched and a curved silver-bladed scythe, with an obsidian handle, materialized in her hands.
"Trash elimination authorized," she declared, her voice as cold as the steel of her weapon, the glass of her glasses reflecting the final moments of those poor devils.
She moved through the remaining bandits. It was not a fight—it was an execution. Katherine's scythe whistled through the air, cutting rifles in half. Blood still hung in the air as the scythe found yet another neck.
Her twin drew a second pistol and with unsettling precision, shot the knees and hands of any bandit trying to flee or attack her sister, incapacitating them so Katherine could finish the job with a single, definitive move.
The spectacle was marvelous, though far too brief. Silence returned to the canyon. Twelve bodies lay scattered, and the red dust began to settle.
Catherine blew smoke from the barrels of both pistols before they vanished into particles of darkness. The twin with glasses cleaned her scythe on a bandit's tunic before it too disappeared.
"Onee-san, that was unnecessarily messy," commented Katherine, adjusting her glasses. "Also, far too fast and merciful for someone who dared touch you."
"I know, Katherine-san. But it was satisfying," her sister replied, adjusting her skirt and carefully cleaning the shoulder that the leader had touched.
Both turned in unison toward their "lifeless" brother.
"Onii-sama. The area is clear," said Katherine formally.
Devyus, who had remained motionless on the ground, opened one eye.
"Finished?" he asked, his voice completely normal.
He rose smoothly, as if getting up from a nap. He checked his favorite leather coat, smiling as it began to regenerate where the bullet had pierced, revealing a pale and perfectly intact torso.
Where there had been bullet holes, there was now only smooth skin. The bullets, which had not passed through, still inside him, were expelled onto the dust with a metallic clink.
"Common weapons cannot harm this body," he said, stretching as if nothing had happened. "But common stupidity? That can be bothersome." He looked at the bodies around them.
"Good work, little sisters. Efficient, as always."
"Why fake your death, Onii-sama?" Catherine asked, curious.
"Because I knew you would be tougher than me and needed to learn one final important lesson: idiocy comes at a high price," Devyus said, a playful smile on his lips. "And to remind me why I'd a thousand times rather rule over rehabilitated demons than humans so… basically stupid and predictable."
"It was also necessary to gauge how dangerous the weapons of this nation are against us. We haven't had intel on their technology in a long time, and it's better to test it," he added, brushing dust off his coat.
"I suppose you're right, Onii-sama. Risky, but the data is valuable if we face the worst," Katherine concluded, cleaning her glasses.
"Time for cleanup. We don't want to leave traces, after all," Devyus said, placing his hand on the ground.
Shadows from him and the fallen bodies began to move, engulfing their former owners along with the spilled blood. Soon, the shadows extracted several bags whose contents clinked with metal—some valuables and the attackers' weapons.
His gaze turned toward the horizon, where the distant lights of the metropolis still shimmered like a neon stain over the darkened landscape.
"Let's go. Our new home awaits. If we hurry, we'll arrive by sunset. The city will likely offer far more interesting challenges than this."
Leaving the bandit encounter as a mere discarded reminder of their journey, the three siblings continued onward, the promise of chaos and opportunity in Daten City burning brighter than ever before.
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