In the dense forest, Hel tread carefully over layers of withered leaves and patches of lingering snow, making her way forward step by step.
Behind her followed a strange procession of creatures—a two-headed lion, a horned eagle, and a horse with eight legs, among others.
Their appearances were wildly different, but all shared one trait—a pair of glowing crimson eyes.
When living creatures fall into corruption, they transform into devils.
But what happens when a devil dies?
It still leaves behind a corpse.
And as long as there's a corpse, it can be reanimated as undead.
Even devils are no exception.
Hel knew this firsthand—for sitting on the back of that two-headed lion
was a half-meter-tall, red-skinned humanoid with a pair of batlike wings.
It was a Lesser Imp, one of the weakest among devilkind—akin to ordinary civilians among humans.
When Hel had first encountered it, the creature had disguised itself as a deer.
Even after she killed it, its form remained unchanged—until she reanimated it as an undead. Only then did its true form reveal itself: the imp now perched on the lion's back.
The reason was the "Mimicry" tag that had manifested within it after corruption—a trait allowing the bearer to perfectly assume its previous appearance, even in death.
But like the Blood Thrall tag, Mimicry came in varying tiers, and could only affect beings within certain strength ranges.
That made the tag all the more intriguing to Hel.
Yet, despite delving deep into the Snowmelt Principality, Hel hadn't encountered any fully corrupted creatures. All she had found were beasts in the process of slowly falling.
Perhaps, she thought, it was because she was still lingering near the border.
After some time, Hel finally stepped out of the forest.
Only by crossing this wood could she be said to have truly entered the Principality proper.
And just as she emerged, her eyes lit up—for not far ahead, a group of Lesser Imps were gathered together.
But as she looked closer, her expression turned strange.
These imps were fighting each other.
Yet despite the chaos, there was something oddly fair about it.
No matter how many there were, they only fought in pairs.
Even when one was perfectly exposed to others' attacks, the watching imps never interfered.
They simply waited for the duel to end.
Only after the victor devoured the loser's soul would another challenger step forward.
It was a kind of order born within chaos—and Hel found it deeply curious.
She didn't understand why they behaved this way—until one of the imps, after consuming its opponent's soul, suddenly mutated—breaking through into the transcendent realm.
Only then did Hel realize the purpose behind their ritual.
"So this is how devils evolve…" she murmured.
"Similar to the undead—but with far more order."
Intrigued, she refrained from interfering, waiting patiently until the final victor stood alone.
Then she struck.
[High-tier Death Magic: Soul Drain]
The surviving imp wasn't particularly strong—even after consuming the others,
its power barely reached Tier 2.
So when Hel's sudden assault came, it could do nothing.
After the imp collapsed, Hel didn't immediately raise it as undead.
Instead, she knelt beside it and extracted the elemental crystal from its body.
"This corruption energy… yes, it's definitely from corrupted elements.
Its internal soul doesn't differ much from other elemental cores, but the mental influence within it is significantly stronger than in non-transcendent imps.
So—the stronger the creature, the stronger the suggestion effect becomes?
Then it makes sense why that knight-commander lost himself completely after his fall.
But what if—if I could strip away this suggestive energy—would the corrupted being regain its sense of self?"
Hel waved her hand, pulling at the soul within the crystal.
Yet to her surprise, before she could extract the suggestive energy, it dispersed rapidly on its own—fading away entirely.
The soul in her hand returned to normal.
However, when she placed it back into the elemental crystal, it changed again almost instantly. Within moments, the same mental influence had reformed.
Hel frowned, puzzled by the phenomenon.
Still, her curiosity had been largely satisfied.
She had only come this far to study what devils truly were.
Now that she had her answers, it would be safest to retreat according to plan.
…Though, for the sake of that Mimicry tag, it might be worth venturing a bit deeper.
If she could collect more Corruption tags, she could create a Devil Breeding Zone within her Undead Realm—a self-sustaining farm for mass-producing Mimicry tags.
But just as she was about to move on, a faint commotion reached her ears from not far away.
Hel turned her gaze toward the sound—and on a distant slope, she saw a fully-organized army marching toward the Principality's interior.
"An army?" she muttered.
"Judging by those heraldic emblems, they're royal troops from the Kingdom of Sacrifice…
Could they be planning a crusade against the devils?"
Hel immediately ducked low, burying herself beneath the snow.
With a flick of her wrist, dozens of undead flies swarmed forth, buzzing silently toward the army.
Through their eyes, Hel, in the form of the Little Magus, shadowed the soldiers' trail from afar—until they reached a vast, pitch-black plain.
It was a strange sight.
On one side lay normal land—grass, snow, trees, and living creatures.
But across a stark boundary—everything was dead.
The blackened soil bore no grass.
Trees were reduced to brittle husks.
Along the border, groups of Lesser Imps patrolled in organized formations, like guards defending their own territory.
And deeper still stood larger, far more powerful devils—their massive forms looming like sentinels over the Land of Corruption.