ă€ŠMeakashi Collectionă€‹


 Akashi Records or: How I Learned to Stop Caring and Enjoy the Show

    Everything is white.

    The last thing I remember is how I noticed that my club mate Satoru''s older brother Naoto, the driver of the van, was reeking of alcohol. When I pointed it out to him, he turned around to the backseat, to assure us that it''s alright and that he''s used to drunk driving - while going at twice the allowed speed inside the city limits. He actually even let go of the steering wheel to gesture his case, so the outcome was obvious.

    Why did I have to learn this way that Satoru''s brother is an idiot drunkard? There''s a limit to repressing your frustration with drinking all day when you''ve been unemployed for the past year and now not even part-time jobs will take you on, simply because you can''t keep your mouth shut about the latest anime trends.

    ... that should have been a clear sign that he was an idiot, actually. I guess I''m an idiot myself for not realizing earlier.

    In either case, everything around me is white. This is not a hospital room and it''s clearly not because my eyes aren''t functioning properly due to head trauma. I''m not wearing my glasses, but considering the fact I don''t have a nose to place them on right now, it wouldn''t do me any good anyway.

    I don''t have a body in the first place, I''m just a floating spirit of sorts.

    I''m dead, aren''t I?

    The whiteness hurts my eyes, although I don''t even have any. I''m the indoors type and used to being cooped up in a dark room looking at a computer screen with its brightness lowered. The sole reason I was even in that van was to return home from a big haul at the comic convention. I wouldn''t leave the house on a weekend for any other reason than that. But even that was a mistake, it seems.

    Really, I''m dead.

    There''s no question about that. I''ve seen situations like this in all kinds of stories: The protagonist dies while saving someone from a truck and gets reincarnated into a world of fantasy with some cheat skill to live a new life surrounded by a harem. Of course, those protagonists are always shut-in otaku who had nothing to live for other than their pop culture obsession, and won''t miss their previous lives at all in this new world. And they''re always male.

    Wish-fulfillment at its finest.

    But with me, it''s different: I didn''t save anyone before dying. I''m an otaku alright, but I''m not a complete shut-in; I did go to university, although it was really only to attend the Pop Culture Appreciation Club. Of course I''ll miss my previous life, because I had a loving family - in denial - and most importantly, I haven''t even read any of the thin books I bought at the comic convention!

    Oh, and I''m a girl.

    "Akashi Kaoru." It''s a deep male voice, reverberating through this white space. I guess that''s god. It''s so clich¨¦, I would roll my eyes if I had them. Then again, doesn''t Christianity always refer to the one true god as a man? I suppose this is that one true god then. "This may come as a surprise, but you have-"

    "I know." I just interrupted god!

    "-died and- huh?" Did I just make god do a double take? "... you are taking your situation very calmly."

    "Would it help to panic?" I would shrug, if I had a body to do it with, but I''m sure the sentiment is coming through.

    "... in either case, you are here to be guided to your next reincarnation." God clears his throat and continues after an awkward pause. "Every being is judged by the karma they accumulate in life."

    Uh-oh.

    "Akashi Kaoru, twenty years old at the time of death. Karma: Zero." The voice stops for a moment. "You shall be reincarnated as-"

    "Wait, what?" I just interrupted god again. I''m sure this isn''t helping my case, but I need to know what he means by "karma: zero". "I have zero karma points? I know I''m not an honor student and I''m not a brilliant mind that can work for the betterment of humanity... but there should be something more to my life, right?" That makes me sound desperate. Well, this is about how I''m going to be reincarnated, so I''d like there to be a little more deliberation going into things than just a quick statement like that.

    "Your karma would have allowed you to reincarnate as a human again. However, the way you died has counterbalanced all of it." Hm, do I detect a judgmental tone in god''s voice?

    "The way I died?" In a car crash of no fault of my own.

    "In a car crash - of no fault of your own - surrounded by heaps of certain thin books a girl has no business being in possession of." That''s clearly a judgmental tone! What''s with him judging me for my hobbies?! No wait, that''s what he''s supposed to be doing here, he''s god after all. "This resulted in the fact that your parents will have to live with the blemish caused by your careless actions."

    Aaah, how embarrassing! I want to disappear!

    Ahahaha, but I already disappeared...

    "The far-reaching consequences of your death has canceled out the little good karma you had. Therefore, you shall be reincarnated as-"

    "But it didn''t happen yet, right?" By that, I mean that these consequences are still in the future, and are only predictions. "How do you know that it will affect my parents'' lives the way you say it will?" I interrupted god for the third time...

    "Who do you think you are talking to?" Alright, he sounds impatient, even slightly angry. Now I''ve gone and done it.

    "I''m sorry..." I bow down in my mind.

    "Now, where was I? Ah, right. Karma: Zero." He puts emphasis on repeating how utterly pointless my life had been, and I can''t help but feel a begrudging undertone in that voice. "You shall be reincarnated as a hermit crab."

    ... I see what you did there, god.

    "Go forth and live your new life to the fullest, so that you may return to the cycle of reincarnation once again with positive karma." His voice is taking on an inspiring tone as he announces my fate. But he''s basically telling me that I should try to achieve more as a hermit crab than I have as a human being. That really hurts...

    Ahhh, my consciousness is beginning to fade. My memories will be erased, won''t they? Of course, they have to be. Else, people reincarnated as parrots would be able to tell everyone what it''s like after death. I don''t want to forget everything...

    "Ah."

    Wait, did god just make a sound as if he found a mistake somewhere? But I''m already fading away!

    "Oops, something''s wrong." God''s voice sounds like a that of a ditzy student, who accidentally put salt instead of sugar in a cookie dough mixture during home ed.

    Oi, don''t joke around with me! What''s going to happen to my reincarnation?!

    "Wait, how did you make such a huge mistake?!" I hear a female''s voice speak. Huh, there''s more than one god? "Argh, that''s why interns are so troublesome."

    Did I hear her right? That male god-like voice actually belonged to an intern? Job security in heaven must be awful, since an old man has to work as an intern!

    More importantly, what do you mean, huge mistake?!

    Ahhh, I''m fading...

    I was just born.

    I can''t see very well because my eyes need to adjust to the brightness around me, but I can feel my body heat disappearing quickly because I just left my mother''s womb. How I know I was in a womb? Because I spent several months in there without being able to see or hear anything, bored out of my mind, contemplating what had gone wrong in my reincarnation that I ended up as a mammal rather than the decided-upon hermit crab. I was scared that I would be born as some kind of animal that will immediately fall prey to predators.

    Then, when I was nearing completion, I found out that I must be more akin to a species of sharks, because I had to fight for my life inside my mother''s womb. I was able to understand that my siblings - at least three of them - started to stir and move, biting and tearing at each other. One came at me, too, so I had to fight back - all the while being unable to see or hear what was actually going on.

    But I fought back and survived. I think I was actually the last one standing, because it grew awfully quiet around me. I actually tore apart fetuses with my own tiny claws and fully formed sharp teeth, and I haven''t even been born yet! Feticide and fratricide while still inside the womb of my mother!

    And then I realized that I wasn''t getting nutrition from my mother anymore, and had to resort to something I''d rather not talk about. Please just leave me alone...If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    This can''t be good for my karma, but it sure as hell isn''t good for my mental health.

    However, all that counts is that I''m alive. I''ve been safely born into this new life!

    There are voices around me, but they''re muffled and I can''t make out any distinct words. Wait, does this mean I was born somewhere with humans around? It does sound like a conversation, with at least two different voices having a back and forth. That''s clearly not just animal noises.

    Ah, I think I can make out forms, my eyes are beginning to adjust.

    The first thing I see is the ceiling. It''s richly ornamented and there''s a fresco in the center of the room, showing a practically naked man with pitch black skin and demonic wings, standing triumphantly over a human looking man, also naked. It''s not the kind of derivative work found at comic conventions, directed at a certain female demographic, but actual art. The style reminds me of pictures I saw of Christian frescos in churches. But considering I''m not a human, this can''t be a church.

    I try to move my head, but I feel really sluggish after just being born. Tilting my head to the side slightly, I move my eyes to try and find out on what I''m actually lying. It''s soft and fluffy underneath me and I must have been placed in some kind of crib.

    "<...!>" From the edge of the crib a person''s face appears and says something, but I can''t really make out any words, since the sound is muffled in my ears.

    But that''s not the important point.

    This person has pale bluish white skin, glowing purple eyes and is grinning at me with a mouth full of sharp teeth! Scary!

    "<...!>" From the other side of the crib, the same face appears, with the exact same expression, and saying something I don''t understand. They must be twins.

    "<...>" Another voice speaks from further away, and the two faces move away with disappointed expressions. Did it just tell them not to eat me or something?

    I try out my limbs one after another, to see what I can work with right now. If they really wanted to eat me, I wouldn''t stand a chance, but I don''t want to go down without a fight first. Not like a newborn could fight a somewhat grown person, though.

    Alright, I have hands with five fingers each, although I don''t have any coordination and can''t even move them properly individually. As a newborn baby, obviously my legs are stubby and weak, so I sure as hell won''t be able to walk... hm? There''s something between my legs that I shouldn''t have.

    No, not that. It''s a tail.

    I have a tail!

    And it feels like I can actually move it about quite a bit. It''s prehensile, I see. So, does this mean I was reborn as a monkey? That''s certainly a step-up from a hermit crab. But when I move it in front of me so that I can at least look at one part of myself, I''m greeted by something like a curved dagger. The tail itself is sectioned, like a scorpion''s, and remains the same thickness throughout. But it ends in a large, club-like tip, from which a somewhat pointy part extends.

    Yep, I''m not on Earth anymore and have been reincarnated into a monster.

    ...

    AHHH!!!

    I don''t know how many days or even weeks passed since my birth. Like any newborn infant, I sleep a lot, have no control over my bowel movements and the only sounds I can make are baby noises. And of course, I can''t move about yet, confined to the crib and looking up at the fresco that I''ve now memorized and would be able to reproduce in drawing without having to look at it again.

    Yeah, I used to be pretty good at drawing in my previous life, but I don''t know if this still holds true in this life, now that all my muscle memory is gone.

    In either case, I learned a few things: The people here aren''t humans, they speak a language I don''t understand, and I don''t get breastfed, but am actually fed pieces of raw meat, which I mostly swallow whole, since I lack molars. My fully formed teeth are limited to sharp ones used for rending prey - just like a shark''s. But unlike sharks, I only have one rows of teeth in the upper and lower jaw.

    What meat, you ask? I have no idea, since my long and prehensile tongue, which doesn''t seem to house any taste buds, is covered in hard tissue rather than being soft. Otherwise I would most likely have bitten it off by now, with all the experiments I''ve been doing with it.

    My name seems to be Kiyal. At least that''s the word I hear people say the most when looking at me. When I react to it, they smile, so I started to assume by association that it''s either my name or "do something" in their language. Considering the latter would be a stupid possibility, I concluded that it''s the former.

    Among those people, I think I identified my mother, since she looks at me with affection. Or at least I hope that''s what her hot gaze means, because otherwise I need to fear getting eaten by her eventually. She has the same kind of sharp teeth as I do and her skin is pale white with a slightly bluish tint, just like the two that came to look at me when I was just born.

    Those two came by almost every day and at this point I think it''s sure to say that they''re my older brothers. Their expressions make me uncomfortable, as they seem to eye me like food, their sharp teeth on full display while they grin at me. Maybe it''s just their way to show friendliness - or they''re lulling me into a false sense of security. For now I''ll stay vigilant so that nothing catches me off-guard.

    There are others, who don''t look like those two, but since they usually come to either clean me up or feed me, those must be servants. The parts of their clothes I can see when they lift me out of the crib or lean over its edge to feed me are usually simple and uniform, which means my family must be quite wealthy, to be able to employ so many people. After all, I''ve counted more than ten different faces so far, each with individual non-human traits such as strangely colored eyes and skin, as well as the occasional fangs and horns.

    One thing that''s been bothering me though is that I have yet to identify a father.

    I learned to walk.

    It''s been at least a few months now, but it''s still too early for a human baby to be walking. Yet here I am, walking quite steadily on my two stubby legs and using my tail to balance myself - although I''m still confined to the, admittedly, pretty large room where I was born. My mother would come around at least once a day and play with me or call me into her arms across the room, so that I would waddle towards her and train my walking. But most of the time there''s only a servant present, making sure to tend to every single one of my needs.

    At first I was worried that I wouldn''t be able to learn the language they speak, because I was never good at foreign languages in school. But being surrounded by it, I''m beginning to notice all kinds of connections. I''m learning intuitively.

    In either case, it appears that the servants are treating me with the utmost care. Whenever I would trip and fall, they would look flustered or even scared, and come to my help immediately. If I was a normal baby, this kind of coddling would most likely cause me to grow up as a spoiled brat. But since I was reincarnated and retain the memories from my previous life, I''m only getting annoyed at the constant fussing over the tiniest things.

    Actually, I think the maids are afraid of me, since I''m unusually quiet. When I trip and fall, I don''t cry. When they feed me, I keep my eyes fixed on them to study their facial features. When they lift me up, I never struggle, always just staring. Maybe they think I''m a creepy child or something. I mean, I can''t speak yet, so all I can do is watch them.

    "Cheelti, Cheogan! Leave your sister alone!" Those are the names of my older brothers. And the person saying it is my mother.

    I learned a lot of the language over the past few... I don''t know how much time has passed. Days seem to flow into each other when I''m in this baby body. I know it must have been a few more months since I learned how to walk. At this point I think I can start trying to talk, even though I don''t know if I should be. After all, I''m not from a human species, and for all I know, I might not be supposed to learn how to talk until I''m a few years old.

    The reason why my mother told my brothers to leave me alone is because they''ve been poking me while I''m lying in my crib. Rather than coddle their cute little sister, they are messing with me like I''m some kind of pet. And it actually hurts, because their fingernails are sharp and long. So whenever they poke anywhere near my face, I try to bite their fingers in response. But I think that''s only causing them to find even more fun in doing it, since it feels like a game that way. Maybe I should simply stop reacting.

    "Come here, Kiyal." My mother walks up to the crib and lifts me from it, into her arms. She has pretty large breasts, and it makes me wonder what for, if our species doesn''t need to breastfed. But I don''t question the logic and enjoy the embrace and fluffy feeling.

    "Mama." I make and grab at her face.

    Huh?! Why does she look so shocked? Should I not have been able to talk yet? Ah, now she''s crying!

    "... oh my!" She begins to smile, showing off her own rows of sharp teeth which only serve to make her appear intimidating. But at this point I''m used to it and can detect warmth in that expression. "Kiyal just called me mama!" Announcing into the room, she sounds like a real doting mother. Well, her baby daughter just spoke for the first time and called her mama, so such a reaction is to be expected, I guess. "You will grow up to be beautiful and strong, my little Kiyal." Poking my nose with her own, she squeezes me against her breasts.

    Ahhh, what a nice sensation.

    A new face.

    There''s another child in the room, doing a bad job at hiding behind the couch. I can''t really tell, but I think it''s a girl, judging by the color palette of her clothes. But who knows, pink might be a color associated with manliness in this world, for all I know. After all, I''m wearing black and blue colors that stand in a glaring contrast with my extremely pale white skin.

    This baby has rosy skin and her eyes are docile-looking, rather than sharp - quite unlike everyone in my family. In other words, that''s not a sibling, but a child from another species. She looks human to me, and she looks a little older than me, judging by her height, the shoulder-length hair and how steady she is on her feet.

    "Who are you?" I ask her with a lisp. I can''t speak properly just yet, since my tongue is still developing.

    "D-Devana..." She mutters sheepishly and goes deeper into hiding. That''s pretty cute.

    "I''m Kiyal." I announce, before tilting my head to see her better. "Come out and play with me."

    "U-umm..." Devana is just like a small animal - even though she''s bigger than me - and seems easily scared.

    "I won''t bite." Speaking in the most reassuring tone that I can muster with a lisp, I smile at her. At the sight her eyes widen in fear and she disappears behind the couch.

    Oh, right. I have sharp teeth and smiles from my species always look threatening. I close my mouth again and sigh. There''s something inherently wrong about a baby sighing in resignation, but luckily there''s nobody here to point that out. I peer up at the servant standing by in the corner of the room. She looks like a statue and doesn''t show what she thinks about my interaction with Devana just now. Thank you for not judging me.

    I waddle over and peek behind the couch, to find Devana crouching on the floor in fear, with her eyes pressed shut. So she thinks the monster won''t see her when she can''t see it? I extend a hand and pet her hair, causing her to twitch at the sensation. Actually, it was mostly her hair that twitched, and only now do I notice that the patches of hair covering her ears are-

    They''re floppy dog ears!

    And from behind her a fluffy tail comes up and begins to wag from side to side slowly, almost as if reluctant to express emotions.

    It''s a dog girl!

    Thank you, god intern, for making a mistake and letting me reincarnate into this world!

 Yousai Youjo

    "I am free!"

    The deep bass voice of the Lord of Greed resounded across the courtyard from atop his balcony and the soldiers under his command raised their weapons in joyous cheers. They too had heard the voice of god announcing three days ago that they were no longer bound to the place man had banished them to. Now would be the time to conquer the lands and establish their lord''s hegemony.

    "It is time, my invincible Terror Knights! You shall finally be able to trample the weak underfoot!" Addressing the ironclad soldiers towering above all others in their obsidian-colored armor, the lord declared. "It is time, my relentless Pain Reavers! You shall finally be able to feast on the innocent!" Pointing at the troops wearing black fur over their blood red chainmail, the lord announced. "It is time, my unstoppable War Bringers! You shall finally be able to slaughter the masses!" Waving at the diversely equipped foot soldiers, the lord proclaimed.

    Turning to his left, the Lord of Greed pointed across the landscape, at a small village nestled between fields and stretches of forest in the distance. It had been there as long as he could remember, a silent mockery of his trapped existence in this castle on the mountain. Day in and day out, he had to watch it, unable to ever reach out and grasp it for himself. Until now.

    "It is time! Raid, trample and exterminate, my soldiers!" Speaking in excitement, he ordered his men to take the first step towards achieving his dominion. "Today that village, tomorrow the world!"

    An earth-shattering roar of elation boomed across the courtyard and the troops began to set off.

    Helena was overjoyed when she heard the voice of god announce that everybody is now free to go wherever they please. She is no longer required to remain in her village and watch the world pass her by, as adventurers make short stops to replenish their supplies before moving on without even paying attention to her. Now, she can fulfill her lifelong dream of becoming an adventurer herself.

    Her parents obviously are not happy with the fact that there is no longer something like an invisible chain binding her in place, but she is fifteen now and should be allowed to choose her own future. Of course, being the child of a farmer, she does not have any money and access to good equipment. But she shall not let this hinder her; she will ask an adventurer party to take her on as an apprentice the next time one passes through, even if it means that she will be used as a glorified pack mule. She is confident in her physical strength, built up from a life of farm work, after all.

    Shifting the basket filled with potatoes from one hip to the other, Helena looks up at the blue sky and wipes the sweat off her brow. The weather appears to be holding up during the harvest season this year, which means that they can look forward to another good sowing season next year. She thinks that this village can do well without her, knowing that her parents would throw their hands up in despair upon hearing that line of reasoning.

    Loading the contents of her basket onto the cart and petting the draft horse pulling it while passing it by, she looks over to her older brother Johann, who is working on the other side of the field. As the firstborn son he will inherit the farm, which is another reason why she wants to leave. The fate of a farmer''s daughter is to be married off to another farmer''s firstborn son just to provide him with heirs. She does not wish to live such an empty life.

    "When will the next group of adventurers come?" Muttering to herself, Helena turns back to the field, to harvest the next basketful, realizing that the immense size of the field and the low number of workers means that she would be here all day long. Her skin would become more sunburned and her hands would grow more calloused; there is no way a handsome noble is ever going to fall for her this way.

    Suddenly, she lays eyes on something she has never seen before. From the edge of the forest in the distance, a mass of blackness is coming towards the village. Blinking against the strong midday sun and shielding her eyes, she concentrates. A scream from the field beside her signals that someone else has noticed it and had better luck at identifying it - as a threat, that is.

    "There are riders with their weapons drawn!" The owner of the voice is Aunt Greta, who has always boasted great eyesight. "Get back to the village!"

    She waves at Helena and begins to run, to get her child to safety. Turning back towards the horizon, the young girl is finally able to see that they are indeed cavalry wearing black armor, riding horses clad in the same. A chill tingles down her spine at the thought of what their aim could be, but looking up further, she understands where they are coming from. The castle sitting atop the mountain in the distance has a constant air of darkness. Old Man Lutz has told her stories about the being that presides over it, the Lord of Greed.

    For all her life, she never had to fear for an invasion or even just a raid, because the lord was confined to that castle the same way she was confined to her village.

    Does that mean, god''s announcement applied to him and his evil forces, too?

    A hand suddenly grabs her arm and pulls her around. Shrieking in shock, Helena drops the half-filled basket and tries to free herself.

    "What are you doing? Run!" Johann stands before her, his face a grimace of anxiety and fear. Then he drags her along and they begin to sprint across the field as fast as their feet can carry them.

    The rumbling of the black knights becomes audible, and soon it can be perceived through the shaking of the ground, too. Lagau is a village of fewer than five hundred souls, but it sounds like a tidal wave a thousand riders is about to roll over it and not leave a single stone upon another. Even adventurers and heroes who frequently visited until two days ago could not hope to stand up against this onslaught of steel and violence.

    "Barricade the doors!" Upon entering their farmhouse their father immediately shouts and rolls the large barrel filled with their self-brewed beer across the room and past them, before standing it up against the only entrance to the house. Johann reacts quickly and helps their mother push their heavy wooden table against the door and reinforce the barricade. Then they move to close the storm shutters and nail the windows shut from the inside.

    Within all this tumult, Helena is standing still, taking in the situation and feeling the earth quake under the approaching army. In that moment, she understands that no matter what they try to do, they are doomed to die today. The black knights will burn down every last house and kill every single villager they can find. That is what the Lord of Greed does, according to Old Man Lutz''s stories.

    Falling to her knees, she begins to pray. But then realization hits her: Who was she about to pray to? God? The god that freed the Lord of Greed from his confines in the same way she was freed from hers? No, she could only pray for a hero to pass by and save her village from this unreasonable fate.

    The sound of hooves galloping through the village''s dirt roads can be heard from outside the house. Huddling together with her family, Helena continuously prays for salvation from this hopeless situation. The agonized screams of dying men, women and children reaches her ears and she begins to shake in fear, unable to keep her thoughts together. People she grew up with and saw everyday are being slaughtered just beyond that barricaded door, and she can do nothing to help them.

    Then the noise of many heavy iron greaves trampling across the earth follows the sound of the riders; the infantry has arrived. The breaking of wood resounds from across the road, followed by high-pitched screams. Helena can make out the voice of Magdalena, pleading for her newborn child''s life, before it ceases completely. The whining baby goes silent shortly after.

    Magdalena, whom she had greeted this morning at the well. The baby Gustav, whom she had held only yesterday. Their lives snuffed out right within earshot.

    Suddenly, her mother cups her ears to drown out any sounds from outside, albeit it is unable to do so completely and only muffles them into unintelligible noise. Turning her head slightly to look at her family, Helena realizes that they, too, have begun praying for someone to save them. Are they addressing god? Or is it a hero they hope for as well?

    The banging on wood, loud enough for her to hear even through her mother''s hands, signals that they are next. The barricade shakes as someone attempts to push open the door, but it does not budge. A moment of silence follows and a hint of hope forms in her heart that the person on the other side has given up, however baseless it may be. Then a loud crash completely denies it. It feels as if the entire house trembles under the hit and dust rains down from above. The blade of a large axe breaks through the door right above the beer barrel, leaving behind a large hole through which the outside light shines in.

    A gray-skinned face with a bloodshot eye fills the crack and peers inside, immediately fixating on Helena. A violent shiver runs down her spine at the realization that it just widened from excitement. Then the face moves away and the axe eats into the door with renewed vigor, making the intention of its owner clear. It does not take long for the whole door to give way and the monster kicks aside the barricade behind it with a single move.

    Stepping through the destroyed entrance is a towering barbarian with skin the color and texture of granite. Covering his shoulders is the black fur of a Nighthowler and he wears blood red chainmail. Whether it is painted, rusted or colored by the blood of his victims, it has an intimidating effect on all that behold it. He looks around just in case, to confirm that there is no enemy that could harm him, before turning to look at Helena and licking his lips with an ugly brown tongue.

    That is when her father jumps up with a roar and swings his woodcutting axe at him. Compared to his enemy''s weapon, which is specifically designed for war, it looks laughably weak, but it should be able to deal significant damage if it hits the bald and uncovered head. But the man only shifts his weight from one leg to the other, taking the hit with his shoulder and not even flinching from the impact. Helena''s heart sinks at the sight.

    Then, as if in an afterthought, the barbarian swings his own axe horizontally and hits her father in the flank with a crunching noise, upon which he is flung aside like a ragdoll and crashes into the wall, ceasing all movements.

    "Father!" Johann screams in impotence, his legs shaking from fear. Helena feels her mother''s hands leave her ears and turns around to find that she has fainted from witnessing the result of her husband''s brave but futile attempt to protect his family.

    From behind the barbarian another enemy enters the house, crushing even the last embers of hope for survival. Despair washes over her like an unstoppable wave, and she does not even register when Johann gathers his resolve and rushes forward wielding the large sledgehammer used to set up poles. In her empty eyes his form being flung aside the same way as her father was only moments earlier is reflected, before it is filled with the face of the monster that killed them.

    "Oy, what''cha doin''? We hafta keep all them young lasses for the boss." The rough voice of another man enters her ears. It is coming from the one who came into the house after the first.

    "Just a lil'' bit, the boss won''t even notice." Extending his large hand towards Helena, he grabs her shirt and rips it open in a single motion.

    It is then that reality catches up with her, and she begins to scream, pushing herself off the ground and stepping backwards to get away from the assailant. She trips over something and realizes that it is her mother, who regains consciousness from the nudge. The latter looks up to see the barbarian looming over her and begins to scream.

    "Shut up, ya bein'' annoyin''." These words drive terror into Helena''s heart, but before she can react, the axe comes down on her helpless mother. Averting her eyes in the last second, she hears the sound of flesh being cut and bones being broken. But knowing the result, her thoughts already paint the full picture, and her mind blanks out.

    The next time Helena becomes aware of her surroundings, she finds herself in the village square, together with many other captured villagers. They are surrounded by men in various kinds of equipment, including many others dressed just like the man that killed her family. It appears that the rest of the village has been swept clean of life, and all the survivors are gathered here. She begins to wonder whether being alive now or having died instantly is more fortunate under the current circumstances, and considering what is going to happen to them.

    "Is that all of them?" A richly ornamented knight in pitch black armor approaches on horseback, asking someone who looks like the leader of the gray-skinned barbarians. The former appears to be the supreme commander of these forces, which are comprised of different kinds of troops.

    "We searched all them houses. There''s no place for anyone to hide." Responding with reluctant respect, the leader states and points at the villagers.

    "Take them and burn the village." The emotionless voice of the supreme commander echoing through his closed visor shows that he views them as nothing more than loot to be carried off after pillaging. Turning his horse around, he spurs it on and rides away, followed by several other knights.

    "Ya heard ''im!" Addressing his soldiers, the leader waves for them to start moving.

    The barbarians approach the villagers and begin to pull them up. Some scream and try to struggle, others have become completely listless after witnessing the deaths of their friends and families. But the result is the same: None can get away from the overwhelming power of these troops.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    "Hold it right there, criminal scum!" Suddenly, a quirky female voice resounds across the square. Everyone turns their heads towards its source, to find a lone figure standing atop a roof. It is a girl with bright orange hair tied in twin-tails, around the same age as Helena and scantily dressed in colorful flamboyant clothes. She looks like one of those adventurers that have passed through the village before, a so-called Dancer.

    But Helena cannot bring herself gather hope from the appearance of a lone adventurer after all the times it has been completely dashed today. Her only thought is that this girl is going to be captured or will lose her life, like all the others in the village.

    "Hey, ya missed one!" The leader points at the girl and bellows at two of his men. They immediately move towards the house on which she is standing. "Get her."

    Despite having the high ground, the dancer slides down the side of the roof and performs a flashy back flip in midair, before landing on her feet gracefully. Dumbfounded by her actions, the surrounding barbarians do not react immediately. Walking into their midst with refined steps, she smiles at them fearlessly.

    "Come at me, or are you afraid?" Taunting the troops, she winks suggestively and strikes a pose. As if that flipped a switch, the men around her immediately charge at her from all sides.

    Helena averts her gaze and presses her eyes shut. She cannot watch another life being ended or she might lose her mind.

    "Huh, where''d she go?"

    "Ah, over there!"

    "This lass is fast!"

    "Hey, she''s slippery!"

    Upon hearing these confused and irritated voices, Helena cannot help but open her eyes and look up to see what is happening in the square. To her utter surprise, it appears that the adventurer girl is dancing her way through all the barbarians, and not a single one is able to catch her.

    "How are y''all unable to catch a single girl?!" The leader sounds furious as he brandishes his large cleaver and moves to join the fray.

    "Who are you calling a girl? I''m a proper lady!" The dancer has the leeway to retort even while twirling past several men like a leaf on the wind.

    "You? A lady? If you no longer have to pad, you can start calling yourself that." Another female''s voice cuts in and echoes across the area. It sounds like a little girl judging by its pitch.

    "I-I don''t pad! This outfit doesn''t have anywhere to pad!" Sounding flustered, the dancer nearly slips and just barely avoids a jagged steel hook going for her face. "... but... ahhhn~ Ganbaranyai-chan''s words are so harsh! I can feel it pricking me all over my body~" A moment later she regains her composure and speaks with a heated voice. Wiggling her hips with a clearly aroused expression, she dodges the axe of a soldier effortlessly.

    "I told you to stop calling me that. We''re not in the game anymore." The other girl replies in an annoyed tone.

    Finally, Helena spots her among the large barbarians, a tiny figure just barely reaching up to their waists, walking towards the square fearlessly. Unlike the adventurers and heroes that passed through here, her equipment looks lacking, to say the least. Wearing a crown of thorns upon her long silver hair - from which a pair of cat ears stand out just above where humans have their ears - and only covered in a blank white shirt that is too big for her - with a cat tail peeking out from underneath it - she looks more like a victim than a savior. She is even walking barefoot.

    Yet, not a single one of the much larger men seem to dare to approach her. In her wake, several of them are moving cautiously, following her at a respectful distance. Is she maybe one of those heroes of legend, who come from the north, where much more dangerous monsters and divine beasts lurk? Every once in a while, one of them would take a disciple among adventurers and help them on their journey.

    Hope begins to bud inside Helena''s heart once again, and she cannot suppress an excited shaking.

    Then she notices that it is not her body that is shaking, but the ground underneath her. Hooves trampling the dirt road make the earth tremble, their source coming from behind the newcomer. Looking past the petite girl, she sees that a group of knights are riding onto the square, with the foot soldiers making way for them. The latter look discontent about the fact that the knights have arrived to take control of the situation. The leading knight rides straight towards the newcomer, training his lance on her tiny body.

    "Be careful!" Helena screams at the top of her lungs, surprising herself at the fact that her voice can still emerge as loudly as it just did.

    But the girl does not turn around, only tilting her head slightly in the direction of the person warning her. The ears on her head twitch at the sound of the oncoming onslaught, but even then, she makes no move to try and avoid the lance aimed straight at her back.

    It hits her - and bounces off harmlessly.

    Not only did it not pierce her delicate body, but it did not even cause her to stagger. She turns her head at the sound the impact made and her expression reveals no hint of surprise at the fact that the heavy cavalry''s charge was completely ineffective. Even though the close helmet blocks the view of their faces, the knights look clearly taken aback, as they come to a stop and slowly ride alongside the girl as she continues to walk forward once again.

    Coming to a stop a distance from where the villagers have been gathered, she looks around and sighs. The surrounding troops are drawing a careful circle around her, but none seem to move to attack her. Considering their overwhelming strength compared to the villagers, seeing them tiptoe against such a small figure would have been laughable, if not for the gravity of the situation.

    The dancer has disappeared in the masses of the barbarians in another corner of the square, but from their movements it is clear that she is still alive and keeping them occupied. Helena cannot even begin to fathom what is going to happen, but she clasps her hands in prayer - not towards a god or unseen spirit, but towards this petite girl, who may truly be their only hope.

    "I guess this is enough." Sitting down on the ground lazily, the girl does not care about dirtying her pure white shirt, and yawns heartily. At the end of it, she makes a strange high pitched sound reminiscent of a cat''s meowing.

    As if that was the breaking point for the patience of the barbarians and knights in her vicinity, they instantly pounce on her from all sides, bringing their massive weapons down onto her frail-looking body. She disappears from view completely and Helena covers her mouth with both hands, unable to avert her eyes from shock.

    Suddenly, light fills her vision and a circle of glowing blue surrounds all the soldiers that continue to mindlessly pile onto the girl in their center, apparently not noticing what is happening underneath their own feet; not a single one of them attempts to flee. The same phenomenon is occurring around the dancer, where a smaller mass of barbarians has gathered.

    Then two pillars of blue flames rise into the air, completely eradicating everyone inside them.

    Speechless, Helena stares into the fire, until it fades and leaves behind two large scorched circles. At their centers, the dancer and the petite girl remain, completely unharmed; even their clothes are intact and completely unscathed. The knights and barbarians have completely disappeared, only leaving behind a large pile of parts of their armors and weapons, as well as many crystals and gold coins scattered about.

    Standing up from the center of the circle, the girl looks around with a bored expression, then places her hands on her hips and snorts through her raised nose in a gesture that can only be viewed as boasting. The remaining troops who have been waiting in the streets of the village are overcome with terror and immediately begin to retreat, some doing it so hastily that they are dropping their weapons in the process.

    "As expected, I gained a few levels from this." A new female voice resounds across the square. A curvaceous figure wrapped in dark purple robes and wearing a wide-rimmed witch hat stands on top of the tallest house, holding a wooden staff with a sapphire embedded in its tip from which the light is slowly fading away. She is most definitely an Arcane Mage and was the one who cast the magic that burned the troops away in an instant. Floating down from her vantage point slowly and coming to stand right beside the girl in the white shirt, she hugs the latter to her voluptuous chest and shows a delightful and sultry smile on her dark red lips. "That was perfectly executed, Kyouko-chan~"

    "Muu, don''t get so intimate..." Pushing herself away from the embrace with a frown, the petite girl named Kyouko seems irritated by the casual physical contact.

    "Hey, what about me, BlackKokoro-san?" The dancer walks over with refined steps, but next to the glamorous body of the sorceress named BlackKokoro her actions appear overly self-conscious, as if trying to forcefully radiate seductiveness.

    "There is nothing special about a Dancer with a high dodge stat." Looking down on her with a sneer, BlackKokoro scorns her hope for praise.

    "Ah, how mean!" Looking seriously hurt, the flamboyant girl retorts. "I contributed, right Ganbaranyai-chan?" Turning to the smaller girl, she seeks her approval.

    "What are we going to do with this?" Looking around, Kyouko takes in the sight of the items strewn across the ground.

    "I was ignored!" Shocked, the dancer slumps her shoulders. Then she begins to shake from excitement and mutters to herself. "B-but... maybe this isn''t too bad either... hah~ hah~"

    Helena watches the completely out-of-place comedic exchange and returns to her senses. These three just saved the remaining villagers'' lives, and she should thank them for it. A dark corner of her mind wonders why they did not arrive earlier, but she banishes it from her thoughts; being alive right now is all thanks to their intervention, and without their help, this village would have been wiped from the map.

    "Th-thank you for saving us!" Mustering her courage, she stands up from among the other villagers and calls out to their saviors. Some join her, while others finally break down in tears after the tension has finally been dispelled.

    "They will come back." BlackKokoro cuts in, her dark smile in complete contrast to the gravity of the situation. Upon this revelation the villagers begin to mutter in panic, but before Helena can speak up to ask for their aid, Kyouko steps forward.

    "Muu, don''t scare them, Matsumoto-san." She reprimands the sorceress and calls her by another name. Slapping a hand in front of her mouth to suppress the laughter from exploding out, the dancer turns away quickly.

    "Ah, please stop calling me by that boondocks name!" Flustered, the latter loses her mysterious composure and pleads with the petite girl in a higher-pitched voice than before. It would appear that she has been putting on airs so far.

    "I''m not calling you BlackKokoro..." Kyouko''s expression makes it clear that this is all becoming an annoyance to her. Returning her attention to the villagers, she tilts her head and her ears twitch. "It''s true, though - they will come back. That''s why we''re going to their castle first."

    Helena''s mouth hangs open at this announcement. The petite girl actually looks bored saying this, as if it is all just a bother in her eyes. After her earlier display, it is clear that she possesses overwhelming power. Does this mean that the Lord of Greed is but a minor inconvenience along her way, whom she can take down in passing?

    "Take me with you!" She suddenly blurts this out without thinking. Taken aback, the three heroes stare at her for a moment, before the sorceress steps forward with a disdainful gaze.

    "We will not. You are weak." Just as her expression suggests, she refuses.

    Her words pierce deep into Helena''s heart and she is reminded of the fact that she watched her family die without being able to do anything. If she were to go along with these three as she is now, she would die very quickly. Yet, there is nothing left for her in this village; she had the wish to become an adventurer even before all this happened. Now she has received the final and irrevocable push to follow that path. If they do not take her along, what else is there for her to do with her life?

    "Can you cook?" Kyouko nudges the sorceress aside and steps in front of the village girl.

    "Y-yes, I am very confident in my cooking!" Replying eagerly, Helena looks into her opposite''s piercing bright blue eyes.

    "You''re hired." Deciding this in a definitive tone that seems to leave no room for argument, Kyouko agrees to let her come along.

    "Huh? But-" Beginning to protest, BlackKokoro speaks up, but is silenced by the petite girl''s glare.

    "No, Matsumoto-san, your cooking is awful." Her blunt statement seem to run right through her opposite''s self-esteem, as the latter staggers back a step and looks shocked.

    "Ahahaha, Ganbaranyai-chan is on a roll~" The dancer points at the victim of those harsh words with gleeful laughter.

    "Yours is even worse, Chiyo." Directing her contemptuous gaze at the flamboyant girl named Chiyo, she continues to beat down on her two companions'' cooking skills - or lack thereof.

    "First name and no honorifics?!" Taken aback, the new victim''s face flushes red in a mix of distress and arousal, as her whole body trembles from the impact of the verbal abuse. "Ganbaranyai-chan, it''s too much~ Ahhhn~"

    "Puha... hahaha..." Helena is surprised that the sound came from her own mouth. Even after everything she has gone through, these three were somehow able to dispel her sorrow, even if only for a moment. Then her vision blurs and she feels hot tears rolling down her cheeks, as the emotions run rampant within her.

    A small hand pats her head and she jolts up at the sensation, to find that Kyouko is looking at her with a neutral expression. Yet, she can feel the empathy in this gesture, and her emotions overflow completely. Embracing her and burying her face in the little girl''s delicate chest, Helena muffles her cries.

    "What were you doing here?" On their way towards the castle of the Lord of Greed, Helena finally finds it in herself to ask. These three seem to be far too powerful to stay around these lands, which have always only been a transition area for adventurers on their path to greater heights. Even the Lord of Greed is nowhere as powerful as the lords of the north and the south, which include frost giants and elder dragons.

    "These lands are fertile, so we thought it would be good to settle around here and build a guild hall." The sorceress who dislikes being called Matsumoto and prefers the name BlackKokoro replies. "But then we reconsidered and thought: Why build, if we can just take?"

    "H-huh, what do you mean?" Helena''s heart sinks at the implication of these words; they are not something heroes should be uttering. She is basically suggesting that they would drive someone out of their home and use that as their guild''s base.

    "Exactly what she said. None of us have any construction skills, and we won''t be learning them anytime soon." Shrugging, Chiyo the dancer adds.

    "And there''s a pretty good premade place over there, no?" Kyouko joins the conversation and points forward with her usual casual expression. Following where her finger is indicating, Helena looks ahead.

    The heavily fortified castle of the Lord of Greed comes into view, flying his banner featuring a dark green horned toad about to swallow a golden apple.

    "Nyahaha! Today that castle, tomorrow the world!" Chiyo cheers while hopping ahead in a graceful dance.

    "Everything for our Kyouko-chan." A sinister smile creeps onto BlackKokoro''s lips and Helena suppresses a shudder at how evil it looks.

    "Muu, you''re being noisy. I just want a good place to sleep... fuwaaaah-nyaaan..." Yawning with her distinctive cat-like noise at the end, Kyouko looks sleepy and wholly unenthusiastic about her companion''s plans of world domination.

    Is this really alright? This would not be the last time Helena asks herself that silently.

 Skypiercer

    Skypiercer.

    The tallest object in the world, the last unexplored frontier, filled with wonders but also dangers, it stands straight like a primordial spear piercing the heavens. Visible from afar, but its upper reaches always hidden from view by an unnatural haze, countless legends have been spun around this structure over many millennia. For the past five hundred years, people have begun in earnest to challenge its staggering heights both on the outside and the inside, but no clues that would point to the existence of a summit has been discovered, yet.

    There are many waterways inside the Skypiercer, and the largest of them all spews out from a hole in its side, a giant gash as if an angry titan tried to chop it down with an axe but gave up when finding out how sturdy it is after one swing. Emerging at a height of over one thousand meters, it flows down the flank of the structure and feeds the pristine Lake Svarus. Around this source of fresh water, a base camp for climbing expeditions quickly turned into a permanent settlement. Centuries of exploration and generations of daredevils expanded it into the city called Bazine, a place solely dedicated to challenging the greatest and last remaining wonder of the world.

    As if being charmed by an irresistible magic, people born at the foot of the Skypiercer inadvertently turn into climbers. Many die young, perishing while hunting for strange relics in its bowels, or giving up to live to a ripe old age in the city and passing on their knowledge to those who follow into their footsteps. These people''s destinies are irrevocably intertwined with the tower. It is the watchful guardian over their cradle; it is the solemn tombstone over their grave.

    Those who devote their lives to climbing are called aspirants - seekers of ascension.

    On a rare day, when the eternal cloud surrounding the Skypiercer''s lower levels would recede far enough to let the sun shine all the way to its entrance, people in Bazine take the opportunity to spend some leisure time at Lake Svarus. The clear water and the enchanting reflections of its gentle surface serve to soothe the spirits of those aspirants who have yet to fall to the madness of climbing to their dying days.

    Yet, there is no question that every single one of them is an aspirant, because that is what it means to be living in Bazine, the city at the foot of the Skypiercer.

    Those who have the presence of mind to have a moment of respite are the young, not yet allowed to ascend beyond the first one thousand meters, and the elderly who have successfully torn their souls from the call of the heights. Of course, living in Bazine means that they will never truly be free, as they spend the twilight years of their lives teaching the following generations to fall for the tower''s bittersweet beckoning.

    At the shores a distance away on the other side of the waterfall, far from the disturbance of swimmers and sunbathers, a group of young people are throwing their fishing lines from atop a long wooden pier. They are children in their early teens, training to challenge the tower under which they were born and follow into their parents'' footsteps in due time.

    Their supervisor is Old Tommas, a retired Vanguard-ranked aspirant, who has become hard of hearing in recent years. These days, he likes to spend the afternoons sitting on the veranda of his home and telling stories of his old exploits alongside the fabled, Eternal-ranked, female aspirant Nox, who went missing in the Skypiercer a long time ago, and whose body was never found. He believes that even now, she is still climbing and never stopping to reach ever greater heights.

    "She was the most beautiful woman I''ve ever seen, and she possessed the fortitude of a hundred men." The elderly man recounts with an unusual liveliness in his age-worn eyes, slowly stroking his magnificent white beard, which he seems to have gained in exchange for all the hair on his head.

    "Hey, what''s that over there?" Kilian suddenly exclaims while pointing towards the group''s right, at a rock formation a distance off the shore. The blond boy is known for his short attention span, so hearing Old Tommas'' retelling the same story for the umpteenth time, all the while being forced to sit still during an arguably dull task, is causing him to fidget and jump at every opportunity to break out of this boredom.

    "Shh, you''re going to scare the fish away." It was loud enough for the elderly man to hear, who puts a finger on his lips and warns in a reprimanding tone. Not letting the boy''s interruption throw his peaceful fishing and story time for a loop, he continues. "Where was I? Ah, Imperishable Nox..."

    "What is it this time?" Ultar adjusts his ill-fitting oversized glasses and turns to Kilian in annoyance. He is used to the latter''s misadventures and can sense that this is just another one of his escapades. Wondering why he puts up with it all the time and remembering that they''re neighbors and have known each other practically since birth, he stands up from his folding stool and looks over to where Kilian is pointing.

    The other youths, quick to seek an opportunity to distract themselves from Old Tommas'' boring and repetitive stories of glorious but bygone days, follow Ultar''s example and turn their attention to the discovery Kilian seem to have made. Among the many light reflexes from the blinding white sun above, a golden glint stands out, coming from between the rocks.

    "It''s something metallic!" With excitement in her tone, Natalie states and pushes her fishing rod onto her neighbor carelessly, before standing up and shading her eyes from the sun. "Maybe it''s a relic that got carried down by the waterfall."

    "You know that''s impossible. It''s been a decade since anyone discovered a relic around these parts." Skepticism is Ultar''s bread and butter. His father Martyn is a famous Claimant-ranked aspirant, lovingly nicknamed Martyn the Skeptic, who would always make the most level-headed decisions based on observation and careful consideration. Choosing a "no risk average reward" approach to climbing has allowed him to make a decent living without ever getting injured.

    "Then how do you explain that golden shine?" Puffing out her cheeks, Dyanna comes to Natalie''s aid, making a stand against Ultar''s overly rational mind and seeming lack of thirst for adventure.

    "Maybe someone dropped a brass pot, who knows?" Adjusting his glasses once again, the latter does not budge.

    "I''ll check it out!" With this, Kilian takes off his shoes and jumps into the water without a hint of hesitation. Dumbfounded, the other children stare at the boy swimming towards the rocks with quick strokes.

    At this point, even Old Tommas has realized that the disruption has grown too large for him to ignore. Losing focus in his fishing rod, he follows the boy with his eyes and wonders what the commotion is about, owing to the fact that his hearing is not as good as it used to be, and because his mind had taken off into his past as an active aspirant. Natalie and Dyanna run along the pier, soon followed by the others and finally Ultar, who cannot suppress his curiosity.

    When Kilian nears his destination, he finds that the shiny object is actually a large golden gauntlet, too big even for an average adult''s hand. However, upon finally reaching the rocks and climbing onto them, he can see that an arm is attached to it - alongside an entire human being. It is a young girl around his age, her wet clothes torn and ragged, but her bright, almost pale skin spotless and perfect. Most notable about her appearance is the fact that she has long, light green hair, a color the boy has never seen before.

    "It''s a girl!" Calling out to the others coming closer along the shore, Kilian waves while pointing at the same time. Then he kneels beside her and checks for any signs of life. She is unmoving, with half her body submerged in the water, and her skin as cold as ice. Turning her over and pulling her out of the lake, he carefully places her on her back in the most horizontal position he can find. "Go get help, she''s not breathing!"

    Telling his friends to call an adult who can carry the girl to shore, Kilian turns back to her and immediately begins to perform first aid. Pinching the girl''s nose shut, he lifts her chin and parts her lips, before placing his mouth on hers and blowing air into her lungs. Pushing down on her delicate chest in the rhythm of a heartbeat, he unhesitatingly and faithfully performs the routine to save a human life. Repeating the process continuously and as long as it takes, he never gives up.

    The chirping of birds wakes her up. An unfamiliar brightness assaults her eyes as she opens them, her surroundings blurred due to being unable to focus for a moment. When the world slowly turns sharper within her vision, she finds herself in a white room, lying on a white bed. Turning her head slightly, a large open window from which a gentle breeze blows apart the silky curtains comes into view. Outside is a blue sky, interrupted by occasional streaks of mist-like clouds, extending as far as the eyes can see.

    A boy is sitting on a chair by her side, resting his head on the bed. A loose strand of his short flaxen hair sways with every breath of wind, a peaceful expression on his face as he dreams the day away. Looking down at herself, she sees that her right forearm disappears into a massive golden gauntlet, too large to fit her petite hand. But when she moves her fingers, the metal counterparts moves with them. In fact, she has no sense of touch in her hand and unease floods her mind.

    Sitting up and lifting the gauntlet before her eyes, she pulls on one finger to try and remove it, but no matter how much strength she musters, her hand does not slip out of it. She can feel it tugging on her arm as if it is connected to her body, so she soon gives up and tries to remember the circumstances that led to her current situation. Her memories are hazy and every moment of her past appears to resist reminiscing.

    Remaining strangely calm at the discovery that her entire past seems to have vanished from her mind, the girl lies back down and sighs. Her body feels weak and tired, so she thinks it best to replenish her stamina before attempting anything further. The fact that she can form coherent thoughts and identify things around her by name at least tells her that she did not lose her intellect.

    "Oh, you''re awake!" Entering her field of view is the boy that has been sleeping by her bedside. He must have been woken up by her movements. "How are you feeling?"

    "... you''re close." She mutters with a blank expression and the boy immediately backs away while a rosy blush develops on his cheeks. Sitting back up, she takes a closer look at him. His hair that is standing up on one side due to the awkward way he was resting his head, eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day, filled with the kind of bright perspective only the youthful can afford to hold, and smooth skin, safe for a slightly faded scar running vertically down his left cheek.

    "Sorry, umm... My name is Kilian. What''s yours?" Overcoming his embarrassment, the boy introduces himself with a radiant white smile.

    "I don''t know." Looking down at her golden gauntlet, the girl replies quietly. There is no unease or sadness in her delicate voice, only a tinge of resignation. "I can''t remember."

    "Memory loss?" Kilian looks concerned and scratches his chin.

    "Where is this?" Even though she can see the blue sky and hear the birds outside the window, feel the wind on her skin and smell the fragrance of humanity, an invisible but stinging doubt remains deep in her heart. Since she has no memories, she cannot associate it with a definite reason, but the fact remains that her mind refuses to believe what her senses receive.

    "This is Bazine." Responding in the most natural tone, the boy completely forgets his assessment that she may suffer from amnesia. Seeing the girl''s questioning expression, he quickly realizes his mistake and elaborates. "The city at the bottom of the Skypiercer. You know, the tower taller than any mountain in the world."

    Staring at him and seeing his excitement at being able to tell someone who has never heard about the structure that has defined human history since it began, all she can feel is a wave of relief wash over her. Her vision blurs from the impact of the sensation and she blinks to overcome the moment.

    "Huh? Umm, huh?" Flustered, Kilian seems at a loss and fidgets with his hands, unsure of what to do. "Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? Are you hurting?"

    Bringing her left hand up, she notices that her cheeks are wet from tears. Not understanding the reason for this sudden reaction, her emotions begin to run rampant. Lifting up her knees and burying her face in the bed sheets, she sobs uncontrollably. All she can think of is that she has made it, without knowing what it is that she supposedly achieved. A sense of euphoria fills her body and makes her feel like she is floating.

    "Ah! You made her cry!" A girl''s indignant voice comes from the door and pulls her back down to earth.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "As expected of Kilian!" Another girl speaks right after, the tone different from the first, sounding more mischievous.

    "N-no, I don''t know why she... I mean..." The boy is overwhelmed by the pressure and is unable to argue against the accusations. Lifting her head, the green-haired girl turns to look at the newcomers. There are two girls and three boys, all around the same age as Kilian, entering the room and surrounding her bed.

    "Wow, you have such beautiful amber eyes!" This is the owner of the first voice, leaning in on her as she speaks. Featuring medium length hair the color of freshly fallen maple leaves, her eyes are like drops of water before the clear midday sky, and filled with excitement upon seeing the patient. "What''s your name? I''m Natalie."

    "She can''t remember anything." Kilian responds in the girl''s stead.

    "Oh, you poor thing." It is the owner of the second girl''s voice. She is much more unassuming than her red-headed friend, sporting long chestnut hair and droopy evergreen eyes. But what she lacks in visual prominence, she compensates with a sunny attitude and lips always curled up in mischief. "My name is Dyanna. Tell me if Kilian is bullying you."

    "That gauntlet..." The boy with ebony hair states while adjusting his oversized glasses. His sharp mahogany eyes are fixed on the metal hand in place of the girl''s forearm, a hint of apprehension in his vigilant gaze. "The analysis says that it''s most likely made of the same indestructible material as the Skypiercer, and that the design is very similar to that of the Touch of Power, which-"

    "Nobody cares about that right now, Ultar. She just woke up and can''t remember anything." Natalie interjects, and the boy named Ultar looks miffed at being interrupted. "You really can''t even remember your own name?"

    The green-haired girl shakes her head with a somber expression, which results in a round of empathetic sighing.

    "Then let''s give you a name." One of the boys who has yet to introduce himself pushes his presence to the forefront with a suggestion. His light brown eyes seem to be sparkling with enthusiasm. "How about Margritte?"

    "Where did that come from? That sounds awful." Dyanna shakes her head and shrugs, before turning to the girl in question with a reassuring expression. "Don''t listen to Lucas, he has bad taste."

    "You don''t know Margritte the Relentless?" Lucas'' expression shows indignation upon learning that his friends are ignorant of this allegedly famous person.

    "That name''s ancient! Nobody calls their child Margritte these days!" Shaking her head, Natalie exaggerates her expression of disbelief at his bad naming-sense. Turning to the green-haired girl, she looks at her closely and studies her features. "Let''s call you Evie."

    "Huh, what''s that based on? Sounds lame." The other unnamed boy, who has been staying in the background so far, counters the suggestion. He has a round face and short stubbly hair, which paired with its color, makes his appearance conjure up the image of an orange in an onlooker''s mind.

    "Shut up! It was the name of my watercat." Natalie''s retorts angrily, as tears form in her eyes.

    "H-huh?" The boy is bewildered by her sudden outbreak and looks at the others in the room.

    "Way to be insensitive, Adrien! Evie was run over by a carriage last week." Explaining the reason for Natalie''s eruption, Dyanna scolds the boy named Adrien. He looks away in shame and speaks no more.

    "I think Alice would be good, named after Alice the Wonder." Lucas, having missed the exchange about Evie the watercat because he was busy thinking of a name, suddenly exclaims.

    "Not another aspirant''s name..." Ultar rolls his eyes at the boy''s fixation with legendary figures.

    And thus, a heated argument begins among the children, as more and more names are thrown into the mix. Without paying any regard to the girl and her wishes, one outlandish-sounding name after another is conjured from the creative minds of the young assembly.

    "... Sanya." Kilian, who has been quietly contemplating so far, suddenly states in a split second of coincidental perfect calm, during which everyone is catching their breaths or sorting their thoughts. This causes the silence in the room to persist, as the suggestion is carefully considered.

    "Like the golden fruit growing inside the Skypiercer?" Ultar is the first to speak, showing off his knowledge about the flora of the tower''s interior. "The sundrop?"

    "That sounds like a great name! Let''s go with that!" Natalie exclaims and points at Kilian, who is dumbfounded by the loud voice directed at him. "From today onwards, your name will be Sanya."

    "Sanya..." Repeating it quietly, the freshly-named girl looks at the red-head questioningly. Then her eyes move above her, at something looming overhead.

    "You kids..." The nurse in charge is standing behind Natalie and brings down her clipboard onto the latter''s head, before quickly doing the same to all the others without giving them time to react. "This is still a hospital. Keep it down!"

    "Sorry..." Speaking in unison and rubbing their stinging heads, they turn to look at the newcomer, who appears to be carrying news. Flipping a page of her notes, the nurse adjusts her glasses and settles her piercing blue gaze on the green-haired girl.

    "Sanya, huh? It''s a nice name. I''m Beatriz, nice to meet you." Unexpectedly, she has a very pleasant attitude as she introduces herself. "You''re really lucky to be alive, you know? You had stopped breathing when Kilian found you, and when you were brought in, you had severe hypothermia. It''s a miracle to see you up and lively so soon. I''m sure your memories will return to you quickly, too."

    Smiling at Sanya, Beatriz expresses her honest thoughts about the former''s circumstances. Apparently she was secretly listening in on the children''s conversation and overheard the mention of memory loss. Her smooth voice and friendly demeanor serve to calm the patient, who should have all the rights to be panicking due to her condition. It is testament to the fact that she has found the line of work that best suits her nature.

    "We''ll keep you here for another night, just for observation purposes. If everything turns out alright, we can discharge you tomorrow." Turning the page on her clipboard back to where it was before, Beatriz explains the procedure. "Regarding that gauntlet, it seems to have been grafted onto your arm and can''t be removed. It has been categorized as trinket grade, since no powers were detected in it."

    "So she can keep it?" Lucas asks with sparkling eyes. He is the one most taken with the Skypiercer and its many wonders, so it is not surprising that he would be interested in the gauntlet, even if it is only of trinket grade.

    "Of course she can keep it, didn''t you listen? It''s fused with her arm and can''t be taken off." Adrien states in a snide tone.

    "Yes, she can keep it." Chuckling at the boy''s overeager question, Beatriz turns to Sanya and assures her that her only possession, aside from the rags she wore at the time when she was found, will not - cannot be taken from her. "But unfortunately, we had to throw your clothes away. They were shredded and torn, and couldn''t even be called clothes anymore."

    "Oh, that reminds me. We brought you clothes!" Natalie suddenly exclaims, and immediately gets the clipboard bopped across her head. "Sorry..."

    "They''re our old stuff, but you''re slim, so I''m sure they''ll fit you." Dyanna says while keeping her voice low, trying not to give the nurse any reason to do the same to her. Lifting a large linen bag from the ground where she had dropped it carelessly earlier, she places it onto the bed and pulls out its contents demonstratively. "Let''s see if they fit you."

    "Not today, kids. Let Sanya rest until tomorrow. You can come again when she gets discharged." With this, Beatriz spreads her arms and shoos the group of children out of the room like herding a flock of sheep.

    "We''ll come again tomorrow. Have a good rest, Sanya!" Natalie''s voice grows too loud again, and the nurse lifts her clipboard threateningly. She ducks away under the half-hearted swing that follows and runs out of the room. "Sorry!"

    As the last at the door, Kilian turns around one more time and gives Sanya a warm smile, before waving goodbye. A pleasant feeling rises up in her chest and she cannot help but return it, unconsciously using the hand covered in the golden gauntlet, before realizing her mistake and switching hands. Grinning at her, the blond boy finally leaves and the room grows silent.

    Lying back down, the girl begins to sort her thoughts. Her memories are gone and she woke up in an unfamiliar hospital room. The children who saved her came to visit and they are all incredibly friendly. Lifting her gauntleted hand into view, she moves the fingers with clicking sounds. Apparently this thing is made of an indestructible material and is grafted onto her forearm.

    Her mind occupied by questions over questions, she slips away into sleep.

    "We''ve come to see you!" Natalie has not learned from the punishments she suffered the day before, and her voice is as loud as ever when she enters the room alongside the other children. This time, nurse Beatriz is right behind her, and she angrily brings down her clipboard onto the overly spirited girl''s head. "Sorry..."

    "You''re getting discharged today, so let''s try on some clothes." Dyanna keeps her voice level to avoid the same fate as her friend.

    "Before that, there''s something I would like to settle. Then I''ll leave you girls to it." Hinting at the fact that the boys should leave the room when the girls begin their work, Beatriz sits down beside Sanya''s bed and brings her eyes as level to her opposite as she can. Her expression is a friendly but serious one, meaning that the topic she wishes to discuss will be an important matter. "Where will you go after this?"

    "... I don''t know." Responding in a dejected tone, Sanya looks down at her golden gauntlet.

    "If you have no place to go to, come to the Orphanage of Muth with me." Kilian steps forward and suggests. He looks at the green-haired girl with a determined expression, as if he means to say that he will take care of her there.

    "Ohhh, how bold of you, Kilian." Dyanna teases with a sneer and hides her lips behind her fingertips exaggeratedly. The other children look on in gleeful expectation at seeing the boy show embarrassment, but to their surprise, he remains steadfast in his resolve.

    "I intend to continue saving your life." He states in a serious tone, never breaking eye-contact with Sanya.

    "... that''s pretty cool." Natalie mutters in admiration for Kilian''s proclamation and the others appear to be impressed by his maturity. As the only member of this group growing up without both of his parents, adulthood appears to have already arrived for him. Then, they remember his many childish pranks and antics, and their opinion of him immediately reverts to its previous state.

    "If she has no other options, she will have to go there anyway." Ultar remarks on the side, not at all impressed by his friend''s awe-inspiring statement.

    "What do you think?" Beatriz asks Sanya for her confirmation.

    "I don''t remember anything and I have nowhere to call home." Looking between the gathered people, she speaks in a delicate tone. The loneliness in her voice is unmistakable; she woke up several times the previous night, realizing that she was in an unfamiliar place, all by herself and without memories. Even if she understood that there was no point in panicking or worrying, she could not suppress the feeling of utter abandonment. "If you are fine with me, please let me stay with you."

    "I understand." Kilian nods his head and gives her a reassuring grin.

    "I guess that''s settled, then." With that, Beatriz stands up from the chair and pets Sanya''s hair in a calming gesture. "The Orphanage of Muth is a good place, I grew up in it, too. A fourth of all people in Bazine have gone through orphanages, because they lost their parents to the Skypiercer. You''ll find many friends there."

    "She already has us." Pushing out her chest, which is barely beginning to develop, Natalie announces with a prideful expression.

    "Alright, I''ll leave you alone, then. Come to the reception later when you''re ready to go." With this, Beatriz drives the boys out of the room.

    "I''ll be waiting for you outside." Kilian calls out to Sanya on his way out, before the door is shut in front of his face.

    "Now that the nuisances are gone, let''s get you dressed." Natalie grins and begins to unpack the clothes they have brought. "We''ll make a princess out of you."

    "This makes it hard for you to wear some clothes." Dyanna complains as she puts aside the fifth dress in a row. For all of them the right sleeve is too small to accommodate the gauntlet that seems to be made for a large adult. "You''re lucky it''s summer right now. For winter, you''d have to get tailor-made clothes."

    "And you can move this without a problem?" Natalie holds up the golden gauntlet and looks at it from all sides.

    "Yes, but I can''t feel anything through it." Sanya opens and closes the hand as a demonstration. It is entirely possible that her flesh and blood hand no longer exists inside that metal encasing, but she does not want to think about it.

    "Hm, what''s this?" Apparently the red-haired girl has discovered something, as she squints her eyes and moves her face closer to the underside of the gauntlet.

    Upon closer inspection its surface is richly ornamented with flowing lines and leaf-like shapes that barely stand out in relief. But among the flourish, there are fine scratches which look out of place. Hidden from a quick glance due to its surroundings and the sheen of the golden material, it becomes obvious when viewed from up close and shaded from direct light. The allegedly indestructible material was grazed by something.

    "Is this some carving? It looks different from the ornaments." Running her finger over the place, Natalie''s curiosity has been piqued. "It''s almost completely smooth, but I can feel something."

    "Huh, what is it?" Noticing that something is going on, Dyanna joins in on the investigation, and the two girls stare at Sanya''s gauntleted right hand with their eyes narrowed. "Are those words?"

    "I think that''s Kuraic. Let''s see..." It appears that Natalie knows the writing form, as she begins to decipher it slowly. "This means return, I''m sure of it."

    "Is there more?" Her friend asks impatiently.

    "Don''t rush me. These are really hard to see and it''s not so easy to read, either." Pointing at the crude carvings, the red-head focuses all her mind into the task. For a moment, there is breathless silence and even the sounds of birds from the open window seem to have stopped. Then Natalie lifts her head with a blank expression. "I got it..."

    "What does it say?" Fidgeting, the girl used to playing pranks on others finds herself at the end of what she perceives as a deliberate buildup of tension, most likely as payback for her earlier mischief on the way to the hospital. "Come on!"

    "... it says return to apex." She shares a long look with Dyanna, before the both of them turn their heads towards Sanya, surprise reflected in their features.

 The Color of Trust

    The din of the battle raging outside was reduced to a murmur in the twisted corridors and echoless halls of the obsidian castle. Its sparsely illuminated hallways resembled the bowels of an unholy beast that could come to life and attempt to begin its digestion cycle at any time, and the darkness broken up by flickering torches appeared to perform a feverish dance in the corners of one''s vision.

    A man in his early twenties, with short, hazelnut-colored hair and a pair of attentive, emerald eyes ran through this maze-like structure. Covering his silver armor was a dark green tabard, and a heavy cape of the same color, woven from elvish wool, was draped over his shoulders. At his side rested a brown leather scabbard holding a sword with a golden hilt and white grip. The pommel was gilded, featuring an intricately carved half-open rose bud, from which a clear diamond peeked out.

    He was a human called Galeran, and he looked completely out of place in these dark corridors. His acute senses trained on his surroundings to pick up on any potential ambushes lurking in the shadows of alcoves, around corners, or from the rooms he passed by, he made his way through the castle quickly and silently. He did not encounter anybody along the way, the sound of his seemingly muffled footsteps his only company in this foreign place.

    Blackdown Castle, the lair of the Overlord - the king of the demons - was deserted save for a few servants that tried to hide behind locked doors rather than attempt an escape through the many hidden passageways leading outside the city. Their presence was clear to him due to the fear each one of them exuded, telltale signs that they were non-combatants. All the guards had already been drawn outside in a futile attempt to defend the gates and battlements from the siege by the overwhelmingly large forces of the Free Alliance.

    Using the commotion outside, Galeran had infiltrated the castle all on his own. His aim was to kill the Overlord, so that there may finally be peace. And to that end, he would personally see to it that the enemy''s supreme leader would not be able to escape. Yet, there was unease in his heart.

    He felt more like an assassin than a hero.

    Lauded as the greatest warrior any race within the Alliance had ever seen, surpassing prophecies and legends alike, Galeran had transcended all expectations. When the Oracle of Moonspire first met him, she had nearly fainted at the potential she had glimpsed in him. And the man who had widely been considered the most powerful member of the Alliance before his emergence, Knight Commander Fulchard, had immediately understood the difference in their strength with a single exchange of blows.

    Galeran was not just an unparalleled warrior, but also possessed incredible mental fortitude. His unwavering determination and righteous heart that stood up against any and all injustice had changed the Empire of Asparion for the better. Abuse of noble power and corruption was at an all-time low, and people of all social standings had become more cordial and kind to their fellow citizens due to his growing legend.

    Such was the influence of the seemingly absolute existence that the hero Galeran represented. Therefore, nobody would question that he employed a tactic otherwise considered dishonorable, to prevent the loss of more lives. If he brought the Overlord down here today, the war would finally come to an end.

    From the large foyer ahead, Galeran finally saw an emotion other than fear for the first time since entering the castle through a hidden passageway. Bloodlust spilled across his vision in a crimson mist, alerting him to the presence of two living beings that were ready for battle. Peeking around the corner of the corridor and into the foyer, he could see the figures of two ironclad demons wearing full helms and wielding large halberds. They were standing watch at a large, richly ornamented steel gate, which was most likely the entrance to the throne room.

    Emanating from them were the shapes and colors that played around all living beings within Galeran''s perception, each one corresponding to different emotions. It was an ability he kept secret from all, including his allies and those he would call his closest friends; it was the reason for his invincibility in battle. His sense of righteousness and conviction to do good came from this gift, which allowed him to perceive feelings, emotions, and even intentions in tangible forms rather than abstract concepts.

    "Why''re we damned to stand guard here? I wanna join the battle outside." The one on the right grumbled.

    "I hear ya." The other replied and sighed.

    "Let''s abandon this post. Not like anyone''s coming here anyway." The first suggested in a hushed voice.

    "Nah, if we''re found out, we''ll get punished." The second one shook his head and shrugged in response.

    "Damn..."

    With this exchange, the two guard demons went quiet again, but their bloodlust increased in intensity. They were eager for battle and disappointed at being confined here instead of joining the defense of the castle. It was clear that they did not know about their imminent loss even without the help of the human hero fighting at the front lines.

    Galeran determined that there were no redeeming qualities to their bloodthirsty nature; they wanted to fight, not for an ideological cause or to protect someone close to them, but simply for their own twisted sense of pleasure. He had met many different kinds of demons, including those that had shown love and self-sacrifice, but these two were not of that type.

    Drawing his sword Eversong, the most powerful among the four treasured weapons of the elves, he ran out of cover to face these fiends. They would find redemption in death.

    "What? A human here?" The one on the right was the first to react, and his companion turned his head towards Galeran at these words. The foyer was spacious enough for them to swing their large weapons, which possessed a longer range than a sword. Still, the hero charged forward fearlessly and bridged the distance faster than the eyes could follow.

    With flowing motions, Eversong struck the closest guard''s halberd aside, cut off the exposed thumb on his forward right hand holding the shaft of the weapon, sliced the pit of the left elbow through the gambeson under the join between plate armor, and finally pierced into the eye slit in the full helm. Throughout, the weapon seemed to hum in an angelic voice that would echo in the heads of those who saw it - or were on the receiving end of its razor-sharp edge.

    "H-how?!" The second demon let out a fearful howl and swung his weapon, but Galeran already covered the distance and closed the range into one more favorable for him. With a body check, he pushed the guard into the wall beside the gate and thrust his sword into the opening between his body armor and his full helm. The tip reemerged from the top of his head and sent the helmet flying off.

    Just as the first guard finally collapsed to the floor slowly and almost soundlessly, Eversong was pulled out of the second''s throat. Then the flying helmet dropped to the ground with a loud crash. Yet, there was no sound emerging from the other side of the steel gate. Maybe the throne room had a hidden passageway outside the castle, and these guards had been left behind to slow any pursuers.

    Placing his hand on the gate''s surface, he checked for any magical traps or curses, but found none. The defenses of this castle''s interior were almost as weak as those of the Imperial Palace of Asparion, although the latter even lacked the permanent detection barrier he had to break through to enter this one. It just meant that his objective was easier to fulfill, so he would not complain; at the same time, he braced himself for physical traps or an ambush on the other side. Even if he was confident in his abilities, negligence was the primary cause for failure and death.

    Galeran kicked open the two wings of the steel gate with a single foot and immediately entered a defensive stance. But no attacks came.

    The large throne room was largely undecorated save for life-sized obsidian statues of previous Overlords standing in alcoves on both sides of the gallery. Behind them hung the customized flags they used during their lives, each featuring black and red as their primary color schemes. The black tiles covering the ground appeared to absorb the light given off by the large fire stands, which barely illuminated the dark interior.

    At the very end of the room, on an elevated platform where one would have expected the Overlord to be seated, a little girl who had yet to reach her teens sat uncomfortably on the oversized and ornate throne, hugging the stuffed doll of a direbear to her chest. She had a petite body with dim gray skin in a fine dark purple dress, and was shivering in the cold and lonely hall. Her large violet eyes glowing in the twilight were opened wide in fear, and an elongated fang was biting down on her pale pink lower lip so hard that it almost drew blood. Quivering pointy ears peeking out on both sides of her head full of long silvery-white hair, and two small, underdeveloped horns protruding from the corners of her forehead and parting her bangs indicated that she was a demon child.

    Above those horns rested a black tiara with a green gem inlaid into its center. The least but strangely enough also most likely assertion one could make under the given circumstances was that she was the Overlord; after all, nobody had ever seen him or her before. However, the emotions radiating from her took the hero by surprise and caused him to doubt that explanation. The billowing dark purple clouds of fear were intermittently broken up by the glowing whiteness of innocence, and rising up around her dangling feet were dark blue tendrils of loneliness. He could not detect a single hint of evil in her, and something about her appearance tugged on his heartstrings.

    "Are you the Overlord?" Galeran asked with a firm voice, which caused the girl to cower and hug her stuffed doll as strongly as she could, as if fearing that he would take it away from her. He could tell from her reaction and the colors wafting around her tiny frame like mist that she was not hiding anything.

    Suddenly, the voices of thousands of soldiers cheering outside washed through the castle''s interior. If the gate had fallen or the battlements had been stormed, the sounds of battle would have continued. The fact that it was now growing quieter meant that the battle must have been over, and from the tone of the voices, the Alliance were the ones that had achieved victory.

    The demon girl looked around with a haunted expression moments after the cheers stopped, as if something invisible danced around her. Then her eyes went wide in realization and large tears began to form in their corners. They rolled down her flushed cheeks, as clipped and broken charcoal gray wings of sadness wrapped around her body. It began to overshadow all her other emotions and became so overwhelming that even Galeran felt affected by it. Shaking the feeling, he clenched his fist over his chest and stepped forward with determination.

    Apparently her sadness was so profound that she did not even have the presence of mind to realize that he was approaching her. Walking up the steps to the throne, the human so out of place in this hall of demons trained his senses on his surroundings. He could tell that there were no soldiers waiting in ambush, and there were no hidden passages leading out of the hall. This young girl had been placed here with only two guards outside the door and no attendants to look after her.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    In essence, she had been abandoned.

    Such a little girl filled with innocence, and overwhelmed by fear at the sight of a single human, could not be the Overlord. He had been responsible for giving the orders for the ravaging and slaughter of innocent frontier villagers, the pillaging and burning of peaceful cities, and the raiding and sinking of neutral trading ships. His total mobilization had singlehandedly escalated the cold war between the Alliance and the demon tribes over the course of a single year, even though the two had been able to coexist in relative peace for the past two decades.

    "Who are you?" Coming to a stop in front of the girl, Eversong loosely in his hand, Galeran inquired flatly. He had never been good at speaking with people in an amicable way. It was the biggest weakness his otherwise seemingly perfect self that he displayed at every turn, but it stemmed from the fact that he had lost his trust in others. With the ability to tell emotions and differentiate truth from lies, he learned that there was just too much falsehood in spoken promises; only actions showed a person''s real character.

    Realizing that the human had approached within range to strike with his sword, the girl tried to ball herself up and pressed her eyes shut in terror. Galeran blinked at the reaction and was dumbfounded at the wafting clouds of dark purple fear she gave off once more. There was not a shred of the possibility that she was the Overlord. The more likely explanation would be that she was a puppet put in place for the convenience of someone ruling from the shadows, who used the title of the Overlord to unite the demon tribes and start a war.

    The sound of many footsteps rushing towards their location could be heard echoing through the foyer outside and resounding into the throne room. Galeran turned his back towards the girl to look in the direction; it was the final test to see whether she was merely in perfect control of her emotions or genuinely innocent. The moment he could smell her intentions change into the festering stench of killing intent, he would spin around on the spot and cut her head off.

    But nothing of the sort happened. All he could hear was her quiet sobbing as she repeatedly wiped away her freely flowing tears, and smell the aroma of freshly cut grass signaling her heartfelt wish for safety.

    Before he could turn around again to take a closer look at the little girl, a nauseating wave of crimson mist signaling bloodlust and the radiant bright orange beams expressing joy washed across the foyer, and made their way in through the open steel gate, long before anyone came into view. This was the main reason for why Galeran had not wanted to participate in the battle outside; for him, keeping an overview of a tumultuous battlefield with his ability was an impossibility. He would most likely have accidentally attacked an ally due to their overwhelming emotions obscuring their appearances. Unless he knew them personally, he could not easily distinguish an individual from another, when life and death situations caused their feelings to run rampant.

    Finally, the first people appeared, bloodied weapons drawn and frenzied glows in their eyes. They were ecstatic and it became clear to Galeran that there was more at work than just the successful storming of the castle. The joy that almost outweighed their thirst for a massacre could not stem from anything less than what they believed to be a total victory.

    At the front of the more than a dozen soldiers that made their way here was the female elvish warrior that had been assigned by the Kingdom of Valeyar to join him on his campaign against the demon tribes. Her name was Elspet, rumored to be second only to Fulchard in martial prowess at the tender age of seventeen; many said she was a rising star and would soon surpass him. Due to her race''s long-lived nature, she would have many centuries to further improve, and some believed that she had the potential to become even more powerful than the hero himself one day.

    Soon into their travels, Galeran had noticed that a color he had never seen before developed around her whenever she spoke to him. He had taken it as a sign that she could not be trusted and had since tried to distance himself from her. Even now, the sickening, bright pink flower blossoming around her was quickly replacing the crimson mist that had enveloped her like it still did all the others in her wake, when she spotted him.

    "Galeran, we brought down General Barranok!" The blooming pink was interspersed with orange rays of joy, when she said those words and waved at him with her free hand. The magic sword Severance was unsheathed and gripped loosely in her right, its normally beautiful faint blue glow drowned out by the emotions of those that followed behind her. They were the Elite Knight Corps of the Alliance, comprised of the most experienced and well-trained soldiers of all member states.

    General Barranok had been the last line of defense for demonkind. Since it became clear over the course of the war that the Overlord was either a statesman without combat abilities or simply a coward who only sat on his throne in the security of his castle, the various generals had proven to be the leading forces behind the demon war machine. Galeran and his party had been responsible for taking them down one after another, quickly weakening the chain of command in the process. It had ultimately led to this final showdown at the demon capital of Malrond with Barranok being the last remaining general to lead its army. His death was tantamount to a total victory, unless the Overlord actually rose up to the occasion.

    "... where is the Overlord?" Elspet came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the throne. Since Galeran was standing before the little demon girl in his heavy green robe, she was hidden from view. He could see the tendrils of her dark purple fear wafting around him and clinging onto his clothes like desperate pleas for help.

    "He wasn''t here." He responded plainly and looked across the faces of the gathered knights. Many had removed their helmets or opened their visors, but he viewed it as deadly carelessness. If there had been hidden enemies along the way, that act could have caused them to get killed in an ambush.

    "Who''s that?" Lifting an eyebrow questioningly, Elspet suddenly inquired. Trying to peek around Galeran, the dark violet claws of unease closed around her, digging into the bright pink flower mercilessly.

    "I found her here instead of the Overlord." Stepping aside, the hero found no way to justify hiding anything behind him from view, especially since they were inside the demon castle. But the moment he did so, he regretted it immediately.

    Although the crimson mist had faded from the knights and had largely been replaced by orange radiance due to the victory over Barranok, it took them less than a second to recognize the girl as a demon and regain their bloodlust in an explosion of crimson. The resulting festering stench of their killing intent caused Galeran to flare his nostrils, and disbelief filled his mind.

    They wanted to kill this little girl solely due to the fact that she was a demon. Even though he had declared that this was not an extermination war, since he had come to understand that demons were just another race of people that tried their hardest to live in this world, there were many who did not see it the same way. Having lost their families to demon raids and border skirmishes, their hatred could not be appeased by just achieving peace, and all they cared for was revenge. Among these elite knights, most were just like that, too.

    "It''s a demon! Why did you let it live?" One of those knights, whose name Galeran could not bother to remember, asked in a reproachful tone. There was not a hint of doubt in his demeanor regarding the slaughter of a defenseless child, and all the hero could feel was disgust at the former''s unshakable conviction that it was only right to do so because she was a demon.

    "She is innocent." Declaring so, he stood up for her. His determination to defend the weak did not stop at the members of the Alliance, but extended to all races in this world. Those who sowed unjustified violence were those in the wrong, whether they were humans, elves or demons. And he could never justify the killing of a young child, regardless of its race or heritage.

    "What are you saying, Galeran? If she''s sitting on that throne, she must be the child of the Overlord." Another knight stepped forward and the wave of nauseating crimson he emitted was the final drop that caused the bucket of the hero''s patience to spill over.

    With a glare Galeran silenced the voices of agreement that had begun to rise from the other knights. They were taken aback by the anger in his eyes and some even took a step back in shock. Turning around and extending a hand to the girl in the most gentle gesture he could muster, the human hero expressed his wish to keep the young demon safe.

    Blinking her glowing violet eyes, the girl shifted her gaze between the presented hand and the face of the man before her. It was impossible to tell his thoughts from that neutral but determined gaze, and even though she did not understand the meaning of the words they exchanged, she could feel that he offered his hand in a promise of protection. And the group of knights led by the female elf wore expressions on their faces that only portended pain.

    Reluctantly lifting her small quivering hand, she inched closer to the man''s open palm, shying away one last time before finally placing herself in his care. His fingers closed around her tiny hand and the grasp was sincere and gentle. Even though his face remained firm and his eyes cold, the reassurance of the warmth coming from the place they touched was undeniable.

    "She is innocent." Galeran stated one more time, in a dangerously low and quiet voice. It sent shivers down the gathered humans'' backs and Elspet''s eyes widened in surprise. The dark purple of fear mixed into her unknown bright pink emotion.

    "A-are you siding with a demon? T-that''s treason!" The first knight gathered his courage, but was still only able to speak up with an indecisive stutter. Yet, his notion was affirmed, as other voices in his favor grew louder. The tension in the room became more and more tangible.

    "Wait, are you serious about this?" Elspet turned to her followers, and then to Galeran, disbelief written in her features. She did not understand how the situation could come to this, but it was already too late.

    "I will protect her." Lifting the demon girl up into his arm, so that she rested against his chest, he pointed his sword down towards the gathered knights standing at the bottom of the stairs. This quiet and simple statement, coupled with his actions, were confirmation enough for them. They took their stances and pointed their weapons at their hero, who seemed to have gone mad.

    "Apprehend him!" A voice shouted, and everyone sprung into action at the same time. But to Galeran, they may as well have been moving like they were slowed down by a swamp''s relentless grasp.

    "Hold on tight." With a whisper to his new prot¨¦g¨¦, he descended the stairs like a fleeting mirage. Eversong''s hum entered the knights'' heads and terror washed over them at its furious tone; it was as if the sword was reprimanding them for raising their weapons against the man they had pledged their loyalty to and chosen to follow through all future hardships.

    But at the same time, duty demanded of them to hold him back from committing treason, even if they had to cross swords with him. Not one of them wished to hurt him, but they understood that they could not fight him with a weak heart. After all, he was a man who surpassed even Fulchard, who seemed like an unstoppable force on the battlefield. Yet, knowing and applying that knowledge were two separate tasks.

    As intermingling doubt and determination created a conflict in the elite knights'' minds, their senses were dulled and their movements a step too slow. Weaving his way through them, Galeran effortlessly avoided every single slash and thrust, swinging Eversong like an extension of his own arm and cutting through the leather straps holding the pieces of their armors together. Deploying the broad side of the sword, he slapped the wrists of their sword hands at a mind-numbing speed. Then he was clear of them, emerging at their rear with his sword pointing downwards.

    Behind him, more than a dozen stunned veteran warriors had dropped their swords and lost every single piece of armor on their bodies without sustaining a single wound. Some fell to their knees upon witnessing the insurmountable chasm that stood between them and the one known as the hero, while others ground their teeth in silence.

    Wordlessly, Galeran began to walk towards the exit, when Elspet''s voice resounded through the throne room.

    "You can''t leave! You''re carrying the treasure of my people!" It was a desperate attempt at holding him back, and even she knew that it was pointless. Nobody had ever used Eversong to its full potential before, and it was as if it had been specifically made for his hands to wield, three centuries after its forging. He would never let go of it.

    Yet, Galeran stabbed the sword into the ground next to him, and walked away from the Elite Knight Corps without looking back. Eversong''s tune faded into a silent rebuke, while its faint white glow vanished as if in response to the departure of her beloved wielder.

    With the demon girl in his arms, the hero disappeared that day.