I looked at him—at Sir Kaito standing there in the clearing, Grey beside him—and something inside me shattered.
Disbelief. Despair. Anger. Fear. All of it boiling, churning, threatening to consume me from the inside out.
He came here. Even though I asked him not to. Even though I told him to stay. Grey too—Grey who I thought would have the sense to hold him back—came with him instead.
"Why?"
"Why would they—"
My heart ached, physically ached, like something vital had been torn open inside my chest. Each breath felt sharp, jagged, cutting me from within.
Now this bandit—Boraz, standing there at the edge of the clearing, watching us with those amber eyes—he would tell everyone. Of course he would. The hero was summoned. After fifteen years of failure, the Holy Land finally succeeded, and now a desperate half-beast folk bandit leader knew about it.
Word would spread. To his men. To other refugees. To anyone who would listen.
And eventually—inevitably—to the demons.
Sir Kaito would become their target. Everything I'd worked to prevent, all the careful planning, the secrecy, the training in isolation—all of it crumbling because he couldn't just stay put.
The air felt too thin. Too thick. Both at once. My lungs worked but nothing satisfied them.
"I had to fix this."
"How?"
The question echoed in my mind, cold and sharp.
"Kill him!''
The thought came suddenly, sliding through my consciousness like a knife between ribs. Simple. Direct. Permanent.
"Silence him. He's standing right there. One strike. Quick. Clean. Before he can tell anyone."
I froze.
"Where did that thought come from?"
Something was stirring. Deep inside where I kept it buried. That darkness I'd escaped, that thing that had controlled me before I came to the Holy Land. The emptiness where my will used to be consumed by something else entirely. But I felt everything during those times—all the cruel things—like watching through murky water, like a dream where you're screaming but no sound comes out.
It was pulling me back again… but too deeply this time.
I knew this feeling. The way thoughts stopped being mine. The way my body moved with purpose that wasn't my own. The way terrible things seemed necessary, inevitable, *right*—as natural as breathing, as simple as closing a door.
"No matter how hard you try, you won't be able to get out."
Not a voice. A memory. A truth carved into my existence with the precision of a brand burned into flesh.
My mind went numb.
All of my feelings—the warmth I'd felt these past few days, the confusion about what I was experiencing, the things I'd learned and felt since coming to the Holy Land, even my questions about whether any of it was real—
Everything was drowning. Sinking beneath black water, pulled down by invisible hands wrapped around my ankles.
Only the cold remained.
"Eliminate the threat. Protect the objective. No witnesses."
My hands moved without conscious thought.
Purple lightning crackled across my fingers, dancing between my knuckles like living snakes. The energy felt right. Familiar in a way that made my stomach turn even as my body responded to it naturally, muscle memory from a past I couldn't fully remember. This was power I'd used before. Power that came from a place I didn't want to remember.
When I wasn't myself.
When I was something else.
The lightning spread, crawling up my arms like ivy consuming a wall, casting violet shadows across the clearing. The light flickered across Boraz's face, reflected in his widening amber eyes. I could feel the power building, responding to intent that felt both mine and not mine at all—like wearing clothes that almost fit but pinch in places you can't quite adjust.
"One strike. That's all it would take. Boraz was still standing there, still recovering from our fight. Still unaware of how close to death he was.'
"Do it. Eliminate the threat. Protect the hero."
The words felt like commands I had no choice but to follow, each syllable a weight pressing down on my shoulders, my spine, forcing my body into motion.
The lightning intensified, crackling louder, hungry—
Then suddenly—
"Hey Ay!" what's gotten into you?
Grey's voice cut through the air, urgent and worried.
"Is it Grey?"
I couldn't process clearly through the fog wrapping around my thoughts, through the numbness consuming everything.
"What the—"
Boraz's voice, sharp with alarm.
Then—
"Aria…?"
Sir Kaito's voice. Cautious. Uncertain.
"Aria?"
Trying again, growing desperate.
The purple lightning crackled between my fingers, building, ready—
"AY!!!!"
His voice exploded through everything.
The sound pierced the darkness like a blade of pure light.
Something in that desperate yell—the way he said it, the raw fear for me behind it—cut through the numbness wrapping around my consciousness.
My mind snapped back.
The transition was violent. Like being dragged underwater and suddenly breaking the surface, gasping, disoriented, my lungs burning with the sudden rush of air. The purple lightning flickered wildly across my skin, sputtering and dying, leaving my hands trembling and empty and mine again.
My head—gods, my head—dizzy and throbbing violently, like my skull was trying to split itself apart from the inside. The pain was sharp and immediate, almost a relief because pain meant I was feeling again, meant I was present and aware and not lost in that emptiness.
The tension on everyone's faces lifted. I could see it happen in real time—the way Grey's shoulders dropped, the defensive stance easing from his posture. Boraz stepped back slightly, his hand lowering from where it had been raised protectively.
And Sir Kaito, standing there with his hand still outstretched toward me, worry etched deep in his features—the crease between his brows, the tightness around his mouth, the way his eyes searched my face desperately.
"What was I about to do?"
The thought came with horror, with sick realization of how close I'd been to murdering someone. Not in self-defense. Not in battle. But in cold calculation.
I swayed slightly, the clearing spinning around me. The trees seemed to tilt at wrong angles. My legs felt weak, muscles turning to water. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
My mind was clear now. Crystal clear, every thought sharp and distinct.
But my thoughts weren't orderly. They tumbled over each other, crashing like waves against rocks.
I broke. Completely.
My knees hit the ground hard enough to hurt, dirt and small stones pressing into my skin. I didn't care.
And I cried for the first time in so long.
The tears came without permission, hot and unfamiliar on my cheeks, tracking through the dirt and sweat. My shoulders shook. My breath came in ragged gasps that I couldn't control, couldn't smooth out, couldn't hide. I let my thoughts break free, let everything I'd been holding back spill out in broken breaths and trembling hands pressed against the ground.
But I didn't want to blame him. I would never. I ''couldn't'' blame him even if he killed me with his own hands.
So I asked him instead, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat, past the tears that kept coming.
"Why did you come?"
My voice cracked on the words, breaking halfway through like brittle glass.
"I asked you not to. Why?"
"Should I have begged you instead? Like when I asked you to help us?"
Sir Kaito flinched like I'd struck him across the face. His expression crumpled.
"Now all my plans—everything to keep you safe—it's failed." The words tumbled out, desperate and raw, each one scraping my throat on the way out. "The demons will know you're here. They'll definitely target you now."
Tears crept from his eyes too, tracking down his cheeks. He opened his mouth, struggling, his jaw working but no sound coming out at first.
"I wanted to…" His voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion. "Something inside me kept telling me to find you no matter what."
His voice failed him completely then, drifting into silence. He couldn't meet my gaze, his eyes fixed on the ground between us.
Boraz, who had seemed somehow relieved when the purple lightning faded—his whole body relaxing, the tension bleeding out of his posture—stepped forward slightly. The weight of what had just happened settling over all of us like a heavy blanket.
Grey spoke up, his voice tight with frustration, with guilt. "He worried! We *worried* about you!" His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles white. "That's why we came. If things went south, we thought we could swoop in and save you. But…"
He trailed off, seeming frustrated with himself, with the situation, with everything. His jaw tightened.
Boraz moved closer to us then, his expression serious, his amber eyes steady.
"Don't worry, kid." He looked directly at Sir Kaito. "He's our hope, even if he is a scrawny kid." A slight smile tugged at his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You don't have to worry about it. I swear on my name. I won't tell a soul."
"You don't know anything," I said, my voice hollow, empty of the emotion that had filled it moments before. "Those demons have spies everywhere. They could even be within your group. Your men. Your trusted companions. Anyone."
Boraz's eyes flared suddenly, amber burning bright with offense, with wounded pride.
"You think our men were somehow bribed?" His voice rose, rough and dangerous like gravel scraping against metal. "You think we're that low? That we'd let our pride go for coin? That we'd betray our own people?"
His tone grew larger, filling the clearing with barely contained rage, with indignation that vibrated through every word.
Before I could respond—
"Well, well, well! Look who's here!"
The new voice cut through everything like a blade of ice.
"A new hero!!!"
We all froze.
The sudden change in the air—it was cold. The chill crept inside me, crawling along my spine like insects with too many legs, making my skin prickle with instinctive dread.
My hands moved instinctively, reaching to create a barrier toward Sir Kaito. Energy flowed from my palms, shimmering into existence.
I managed to expand it, stretching it around us all—one big sphere, even with Boraz inside. The barrier hummed, translucent and shimmering faintly in the air.
Then—
*BOOM.*
A thunderous impact shook the ground beneath our feet. The earth actually *moved*, rippling like water disturbed by a stone. The trees trembled, branches swaying violently. Birds scattered from branches with panicked cries, wings beating frantically against the air.
A man materialized in the clearing.
Half his face was demon—twisted, dark, with scaled skin that gleamed like black metal and burning red where his eye should be, glowing with internal fire. The other half was human—pale, almost normal, with fine features that might have been handsome once, except for the wrongness of how it connected to the demonic side. The transition between the two wasn't gradual. It was a sharp line down the center of his face, like someone had taken two different people and fused them together with brutal precision. One horn jutted from the left side of his head, curved and black as obsidian.
"I know him."
The thought hit me like a physical blow.
My chest tightened. My breath caught, then came faster—too fast. Shallow gasps I couldn't control.
"I know him."
From before. From when I was—
My hands trembled where they held the barrier. The shimmering energy flickered slightly, wavering.
"Calm down. Don't let them see. Don't—"
But I couldn't stop the hyperventilating. Couldn't slow my racing heart. The barrier struggled in my grip, requiring more concentration than it should, my control slipping as panic flooded through me.
He didn't seem to notice me specifically. His mismatched eyes—one burning red, one cold and human—swept across our group, lingering on Sir Kaito.
"A demon!" Boraz's voice cracked with disbelief. "How? How did they find us this fast?"
His face twisted as realization hit him like a physical blow. Understanding dawned in his amber eyes, followed immediately by fury and betrayal.
"Then it's true," he said, his voice dropping to something dangerous, to a growl that rumbled deep in his chest. "Krell suggested we loot the Holy Land supplies Today. Said it would be an easy score, that they would be defenseless." His fists clenched, claws extending slightly. "But he didn't come with us. Said he had to 'scout ahead.'"
His face twisted further with realization and fury. "This was never about getting supplies for our people." His amber eyes burned with betrayal as he looked at the demon. "You used us. We were just a distraction."
The demon's grin widened, showing far too many teeth—more than should fit in a mouth that size, gleaming white and sharp.
"Used you?" His voice was smooth, almost conversational, which made it somehow worse. "Oh, my dear friend, 'used' is such an ugly word." He tilted his head, the movement unnaturally fluid. "I prefer 'provided opportunity.' You needed supplies. I needed… complications."
He gestured lazily toward the Holy Land in the distance.
"I wanted to cause trouble, you see. Harass them. Keep them busy and distracted. Disrupt their prayers and their rituals." His grin turned sharp, predatory. "So the summoning would delay. Maybe fail entirely this time, like it had for fifteen years."
My breath came in shallow gasps. The barrier flickered again in my hands.
*He hasn't recognized me. He doesn't know—*
His human eye fixed on Sir Kaito, and something predatory entered his expression.
"But here he is! The next hero!"
He laughed—a sound that made my skin crawl, like metal scraping against bone.
"Do you know what's even better than killing a hero?" He took a step forward, and the air around him seemed to darken. "Capturing one alive."
The words hung in the air like poison.
"If I bring him back alive—oh, the possibilities!" His voice rose with terrible excitement. "Lock him up. Keep him in chains. In darkness. In isolation."
My barrier flickered in my hands. The image he was painting—Sir Kaito in chains, alone in the dark—
"Because as long as the hero *lives*…" He paused for effect, that grotesque grin spreading wider. "No new hero can be summoned. Not until his death."
Boraz's jaw tightened, his canines showing slightly as his lips pulled back.
"Imagine it," the demon continued, his tone almost dreamy. "Decades. Centuries, perhaps. One hero, alive but imprisoned, while the world slowly falls to darkness around him. Watching it happen. Knowing he could stop it but trapped, powerless, useless."
Grey shifted closer to Sir Kaito, his body angled protectively between his friend and the demon.
The demon sighed contentedly. "No replacement. No hope. Just… waiting. Existing. Suffering." His smile turned gentle, which was worse than the maniac grin. "It's much more elegant than simply killing them, don't you think? Death is so… final. So boring. But this—" He spread his hands. "This is *art*."
Something shifted inside me.
The hyperventilating stopped.
Just… stopped.
The fear that had been consuming me—the panic, the recognition, the terror—it didn't fade gradually. It was *replaced*. Instantly. Completely.
By something else.
Something cold and burning at the same time.
The rage that Ignited inside me wasn't like the darkness from before.
This was mine. Conscious. Chosen.
White-hot and absolute.
He wanted to take Sir Kaito. Lock him away. Torture him. Keep him alive in chains just to prevent another summoning. Everything Sir Kaito could become—stolen. Wasted. Decades of suffering while the world burned.
*I'll kill him.*
The thought was crystal clear. Not an instinct. Not a command.
My choice. My will. My decision.
I would kill this demon. Here. Now.
Before I could move—before I could channel my power—a sudden brilliant light illuminated the clearing.
I turned to see Sir Kaito.
His eyes flared with holy light—brilliant and terrible and beautiful all at once. Not just glowing. *Burning*. Like stars had ignited behind his pupils, white-gold radiance spilling from them in waves.
He raised his hand.
The holy sword formed in his grasp. Manifesting from pure light, solidifying from nothing into a blade that hummed with power I could feel even from where I stood. The air around it warped and shimmered. The blade itself seemed to be made of condensed holy light, edges sharp enough to cut reality itself.
He moved. Fast.
Faster than I'd ever seen him move during training. Faster than should be possible for someone who'd only held a sword for a few days. The holy blade swept in one fluid motion, a perfect arc aimed directly at the demon's neck with impossible precision.
The demon twisted—impossibly, unnaturally—his body bending in ways that shouldn't be possible. The blade passed through empty air where his head had been a fraction of a second before.
Sir Kaito didn't hesitate. His body immediately pivoted, the sword already swinging again in a seamless combination. Low slash. Rising cut. Horizontal sweep. Each movement precise, economical, deadly.
The demon's eyes narrowed as he dodged another strike, then another, his expression shifting from amusement to calculation.
"Interesting," the demon murmured, barely audible as he evaded. "Very interesting indeed."
Grey's voice cut through, sudden and shocked.
"Wait—this is like the first day! In our world, he acted the same way!" His eyes were wide with realization. "This is how he defeated that minotaur!!"
The holy sword hummed louder, light intensifying with each swing, as if feeding on something—
"Well then," the demon said, his grin returning. "Shall we make this interesting?"
He moved forward, no longer retreating.
The real fight began.