The human lands were… green.
Vael had seen them before, of course—during sieges, during marches, from the back of a war-beast while cities burned in the distance. He'd watched crops turn to ash. Watched rivers run red.
But he had never looked at them.
Now, walking through rolling hills dotted with wildflowers swaying lazily in the breeze, he noticed.
The grass bent gently underfoot instead of recoiling from demonic aura. The sky was a clear blue instead of bruised crimson. Birds chirped overhead instead of infernal beasts screeching for flesh.
It was quieter.
Lighter.
Almost…
Boring.
"Oh, how peaceful~" Ignira stretched her arms high above her head, arching her back in a way that made her maid uniform strain dangerously across her chest.
The sunlight caught in her scarlet curls, turning them into liquid fire. "I can see why humans like it here. So… soft."
Her eyes flicked sideways at Vael when she said it.
He pretended not to notice.
"…The air is different," Noelle murmured, dark gaze sweeping across the distant horizon.
"I miss the screaming," Brakka declared cheerfully, hands behind her head as she walked. "The demon lands had ambiance, you know?"
Vael said nothing.
He was already reconsidering several life choices.
They crested another hill.
A village came into view below.
Medium-sized. Wooden fence encircling it—useless against anything remotely powerful, but probably sufficient for wolves and petty thieves. Smoke curled from chimneys. Children ran between houses. Farmers hauled sacks. It was… alive.
And annoyingly organized.
A line stretched from the main gate—merchant caravans, travelers on horseback, farmers with carts. Guards stood at the entrance, checking goods before allowing entry.
Orderly.
"We need to blend in," Vael said.
"With what?" Brakka gestured broadly at the four of them. "We're walking with no supplies, no cart, nothing. We look suspicious."
She had a point.
Ignira's golden eyes gleamed.
"Oh, I have an idea~"
—
The merchant caravan was parked away from the road, partially concealed by trees. Two horses. Covered wagon. Three human merchants seated on overturned crates, laughing mid-meal.
They never noticed the shift in air.
Noelle appeared behind the first man like a ripple in shadow. Her hand clamped over his mouth.
A sharp twist.
Clean.
Silent.
He slumped before his half-chewed bread hit the ground.
The second merchant turned.
Ignira stood before him, smiling sweetly.
"Hello~"
For a split second, confusion flickered across his face.
Then heat bloomed beneath his skin.
No flames. No smoke. Just a brief shimmer in the air.
His eyes went wide.
He collapsed, lifeless, without even a scream.
The third bolted.
He made it three steps.
Brakka landed in front of him with terrifying speed.
"Sorry!" she chirped brightly.
Her fist drove into his chest.
The crack of ribs shattering was swallowed by the trees.
He crumpled.
Ten seconds.
Three bodies.
Zero witnesses.
Noelle dragged the corpses into the underbrush, wiping her hands on a cloth afterward. Ignira had already climbed into the wagon.
"Oh! Fabric!" she called. "How convenient. We're cloth merchants now, my lord!"
Brakka was unhitching and calming the horses, patting their necks affectionately. "Good boys. You're with us now."
Vael approached the wagon slowly, hands in his coat pockets.
He looked at the three patches of disturbed earth where humans had been alive moments ago.
Then at the wagon.
Then at his maids, who were reorganizing stolen goods.
"…Good work," he said.
Ignira beamed at him like she'd just been praised for baking a cake.
"Thank you~"
—
They rehearsed as they approached the gate.
Vael sat in the back of the wagon between stacks of fabric. Ignira leaned comfortably against his shoulder, far too at ease. Noelle knelt opposite them, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Brakka handled the reins, humming to herself.
"I'm a traveling merchant," Vael said flatly.
"Your handsome traveling merchant," Ignira corrected, shifting slightly so her thigh pressed against his. Heat radiated through the thin fabric of his pants.
"You three are my maids," he continued, ignoring her entirely.
"Your beautiful maids," Ignira added, resting her chin lightly against his shoulder now.
Vael did not react.
"Do I have to talk?" Noelle asked softly.
"No."
Her shoulders visibly relaxed.
"What if they ask where we're from?" Brakka called.
"The eastern territories."
"What if they ask what we're selling?"
"Fabric."
"What if they—"
"Stop asking questions and drive."
Brakka laughed. "Yes, sir~"
The line moved slowly.
Through a small gap in the canvas, Vael watched the guards work. They inspected carts, asked routine questions, occasionally prodded cargo with spears. Professional, but not hostile. This was habit, not paranoia.
Ignira shifted again, closer this time.
"If they search thoroughly," she whispered near his ear, voice low and playful, "I suppose we'll have to distract them."
He didn't look at her.
"You will not."
Her lips curved.
Noelle's gaze flicked between them silently.
The wagon rolled forward.
Their turn.
"Halt."
A young guard stepped forward, hand raised. Mid-twenties. Clean armor. Serious expression. The type who believed rules mattered.
His partner stood slightly behind him—older, more relaxed, eyes sharper than he let on.
"State your business."