The door slammed open with a sharp crack of wood against the wall. The little bell above it rattled wildly from the force.
Reen jumped behind the bar, heart leaping at the sudden intrusion of a new guest so early in the morning.
Heat from the rising sun poured through the open doorway in a bright flood as an older man staggered inside—clearly a forester, the kind who knew every root and shadow of the surrounding woods like the lines on his own weathered hands.
His face was twisted with raw horror and barely contained panic, skin pale beneath the dirt and sweat of a night spent running.
Laughter and easy chatter throughout the tavern thinned to uneasy murmurs the moment he appeared. The hearth crackled louder now, stirred by the breeze rushing in behind him.
He stumbled across the floorboards, eyes darting high and wide as though expecting something massive to loom over him. Then he spotted the unusually tall woman lifting heavy tables as easily as fallen branches.
"Judy… Judy, I-I saw it! It's real, it's real! The demon! All of it!"
The words tumbled out in broken, desperate bursts—a truth he had been choking back since yesterday's frantic gathering in the woods. His breath came in ragged gasps, loud enough to fill every corner of the room. Conversations of present guests died as every head had turned towards the commotion.
Mrs Lasen spun round, surprise flashing bright in her eyes. "Wha—Warren? You old fool, why are you in such an uproar so early? Come here, take a seat."
She pulled out a sturdy chair with one powerful hand and dropped into the one opposite, leaning forward with steady calm.
"Reen, love! Go fetch Warren a cup of ale to calm his spirit," she called, glancing over her shoulder.
"Uh… yes, Mum," Reen replied, already moving toward the bar, her eyes flicking uncertainly to the latest arrival.
From upstairs came the heavy thud of boots on wooden steps. The footsteps halted briefly, then four off-duty guards emerged down the staircase in a tight group.
"Mrs Lasen, is everything alright?" Kalv asked, tone instantly alert and professional.
"Aw, Kalv, were you worried about me~?" she teased, unable to resist even now.
Kalv flushed instantly, ears turning pink.
"Mrs Lasen, what was that commotion just now? We heard shouting about a demon," Yulan cut in smoothly, stepping forward before the teasing could stretch any longer.
"Ah, don't mind him, love—it's just old Warren here," she said, nodding toward the man still trembling in his seat. "He seems quite shaken, claiming the demon is real. Apparently he saw the whole thing."
Reen returned quickly with a fresh cup of ale, setting it carefully beside Warren. The rich scent of malt and warming spice rose from the rim.
"There you go, sir—"
BANG!
The echo bounced off the rafters as Warren's fist slammed down hard on the polished table.
"Kyaa!" Reen stumbled back in fright, caught completely off guard by the outburst.
"It's REAL! I saw it with my own two eyes!" Warren shouted, voice cracking with the force of it.
Kalv moved at once, stepping up beside the shaken girl. "You alright, Reen?" he asked quietly, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
"Mm… y-yeah," she managed, ears flushing pink as she nodded. The tension in her frame eased a fraction beneath his steady touch.
Mrs Lasen smiled faintly at the small gesture, but the warmth faded as she turned back to Warren.
Vitalis flared within her—an old, powerful muscle waking from long retirement. The air around the table seemed to thicken, motes of light bending faintly toward her like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
"Warren."
The single word carried the weight of a master's presence, raising goosebumps across every arm in reach. To Warren it felt less like friendly advice and more like an unbreakable command.
His body reacted on pure instinct, shoulders dropping, breath slowing beneath the pressure of a true Blademaster's Aura.
Even as seasoned Swordsworns, the four off-duty guards felt their own Vitalis tremble in response, a ripple of respect and caution passing between them.
The entire tavern went mute. No one moved. No one seemed willing to breathe too loudly.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Judy," Warren said, voice cracking halfway through. He looked like a man worn thin by fear and sleepless nights.
He turned toward Reen with genuine regret.
"I don't mean to scare you, young lass." He said, then turned back. "But this isn't like them other times, I swear it."
Whether he liked it or not, calm had settled over him once more.
Yulan stepped closer, curiosity sharpening his tone. "Mr Warren, may we join you for a drink? I'd be interested in hearing exactly what you saw."
Warren turned to him with clear uncertainty, eyes moving across the four young guards.
"Ain't you lot town guards? Saw you with that captain, going door to door." He shook his head slowly. "Why would I bother with you lot? The sweet young lass, Trine's daughter, saw it as well. Poor girl was traumatised, but the council decided she was 'delirious.'" He grunted. "You think I'd waste my breath with their dogs, just to be called crazy as well?"
He looked away, arms crossed tight, every line of his body screaming uncooperative.
"Mr Warren, we're not the council," Yulan replied evenly, setting a calm hand on the old forester's shoulder. "They govern the town, yes—but we serve the people. We protect them. That includes you."
A tinge of guilt flickered across Warren's weathered face. He sighed, long and heavy.
"…Fine."
The single word dropped like a verdict into the quiet room.
—— ❖ —— —— ❖ —— —— ❖ ——
They settled around the table once more, the four off-duty guards and the tall tavern owner all leaning in with focused attention. Reen kept her distance, busying herself behind the bar—she wanted no part of whatever nightmare this was.
Warren drew a long, shaking breath, eyes fixed on the scarred wood in front of him. "After I arrived at the tip's location, I managed to find a very unique spring—a small river flowing through the forest. But that wasn't the strange thing. There were clear signs of human activity. My eyes aren't easily tricked, ya know!"
He pointed to his own eyes with rough pride, as if that small triumph still mattered.
"So… I followed the signs. Someone had been going back and forth many times, naturally wearing a path—hard to see unless you know your stuff, but obvious once you do. When I reached the tree line, I could make out a small clearing. At first I thought it was just a cohort making camp…"
He paused for a deep swig of ale, the liquid sloshing loudly in the silence.
"But when I reached the clearing, what I saw disturbed me to my core."
The listeners slowly inched forward, half-rising from their seats without realising it.
"A pitch-black scar bit deep into the land. The ground, the grass, the trees—all turned to black glass, obsidian and completely lifeless. But the scar paled next to the centrepiece… A frozen skeletal tree. It pulsed with Essence, and something alive rippled inside it. There was burnt meat everywhere—far too much for any normal cook. Burning that much meat made no sense. It was like a corpse had been cut apart and seared by magic, I think—"
Yulan's mouth twitched open. "Did you say it rippled?! Did you get a good look at it?"
"Ah… no, I never dared get close. But I know what you're insinuating… that it contained an Opening."
The room silenced instantly. No one at the table needed reminding what an Opening could do.
"I believe it was! It had to be where the demon crawled from and entered our world! The black scar was the damage that leaked out from the Opening—it makes sense!"
The four guards exchanged quick glances. They couldn't be sure of any of this testimony without seeing it themselves.
"We can set the Opening aside for now… Mr Warren, what else did you see?" Yulan pressed gently.
"Pah! You young'uns." Warren waved a dismissive hand but continued. "Fine. When I looked further, the landscape beyond was torn apart—as if some massive creature had tunnelled straight through it. Clean, sharp cuts left in the earth, no Freeblade I've ever met could manage that. But I didn't have time to think much about it until I reached the end of the destruction."
His stomach churned visibly at the memory. He pressed a fist to his mouth, steeling himself before going on.
"There lay a demonic beast—one I've never laid eyes on before, nor even heard of. I'm not sure exactly what it was, but what I am sure of is that whatever fought the thing completely ripped it apart. Its body parts were sprawled across the ground… some bits still twitched, reacting to the essence lingering in the air."
He took an even deeper swig of ale, as though hoping the drink might dull the images faster.
"So… if there wasn't a second demon, then what ripped that monster apart?"
No one at the table spoke. Even the bustling regulars had quietened, watching like frightened mice from their corners.
The four guards glanced at one another, conflicting fears swirling in their minds. It was an instinctive act to challenge such a horrific reality—they refused to accept that a demon might truly be stalking their lands.
…demon.
"Something tells me we'll learn sooner than later," Kael spoke up, his voice cutting through the heavy tension and finally breaking the spell.