A Day Off (Allegedly)
After the whole "accidentally-became-a-licensed-mage" incident, I declared an official holiday.
A holiday from what, exactly, I don't know-but it felt necessary.
Lila, ever the optimist, insisted on celebrating with a picnic outside town.
So there I was: lying under a tree, hat over my face, listening to birds, and pretending the world didn't exist.
"Ren," she said, unpacking sandwiches, "don't you think you should practice your magic license powers?"
"I already mastered them," I said. "Step 1: press button. Step 2: nap until consequences arrive."
She sighed. "You're impossible."
"Thank you."
The Lunch Break Interrupted
The peace lasted exactly nine bites of sandwich.
The air shimmered. A purple portal ripped open in the meadow, and a tall figure in dark armor stepped out, cape fluttering like an over-budget villain.
"Behold! I am Zerath of the Eighth Legion-"
"Not interested," I said, lying back down.
He blinked. "I… what?"
"I'm on lunch."
"I've come to scout the human realm and spread terror!"
"Could you spread it somewhere quieter? We're eating."
Lila hissed, "Ren! That's a Demon General!"
Zerath looked between us, clearly thrown off script. "Wait-you're not screaming? Attacking? Anything?"
"Do you want me to?" I asked. "Seems like a lot of cardio."
The Awkward Conversation
The demon slowly lowered his sword.
"I… suppose I could take a break. It's been a long century."
He sat down on the grass beside us.
Lila's mouth fell open. "You can't just- you're evil!"
Zerath sighed. "Do you have any idea how boring eternal conquest is? Meetings, paperwork, logistics. We haven't actually invaded anything in decades."
I offered him half a sandwich. "Turkey?"
He stared at it like it was a holy artifact, then took it carefully.
"This is… pleasant," he murmured.
Lila whispered, "Ren, you can't befriend a demon general!"
"Why not? He eats quietly."
The Existential Crisis of a Demon
Over the next hour, Zerath vented.
About his boss, the Demon Lord ("micromanager"), his troops ("lazy-no offense"), and how no one respected the art of proper evil monologues anymore.
"I just want to feel appreciated," he said.
"Welcome to adulthood," I replied.
He nodded gravely. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe terror isn't the only path."
Lila blinked. "Are… are you reforming a demon with casual conversation?"
I shrugged. "Therapy's expensive."
The Parting Gift
When he finally stood to leave, Zerath placed a glowing sigil in my hand.
"If ever you need aid, speak my name. I, Zerath of the Eighth Legion, owe you a debt of-"
"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving him off. "Try not to blow up any towns on the way home."
He chuckled, vanishing into a puff of violet smoke.
Lila stared at me like I'd just rewritten theology.
"You… you made peace with a Demon General."
"Technically, I made lunch with him."
Back at the Guild
When we returned, Clara was reading a report.
Her eyes narrowed. "Ren. Why did the northern garrison send a thank-you note addressed to you?"
"No idea," I said. "Must be a clerical error."
She sighed. "You're a walking international incident."
"Still counts as networking."
Next Chapter:
Chapter 7 – I Accidentally Became Famous for Doing Nothing