Chapter 10 – The Final Days of Peace
Before the vast library of Elias's diaries, Aivis stood speechless. The sheer weight of time—the centuries of memories preserved within those pages—made him shudder. For the first time, he felt what it truly meant to live forever.
Then his gaze drifted toward the golden-haired elf leaning against a pillar, her expression cold and indifferent.
"Serie," he asked softly, "you've lived for over a thousand years too. Have you ever tried keeping a diary?"
"Tch. Pointless."
Serie's response was immediate, her lips curling into disdain.
"I'm not interested in what's already happened. Why waste time recording yesterday, when I could spend tomorrow killing a few more demons instead?"
Aivis smiled faintly. "I see… Still, I wonder—when centuries pass, and your descendants ask about us—how will you tell them our story?"
"There won't be such a thing," Serie said flatly.
"Even if I die, I'll never let my heirs hear about the shame of a human and an elf traveling with a demon."
Her tone was sharp, absolute—like a blade cutting off the past.
---
"…And that," Serie concluded, "was more or less how our journey ended."
Flamme leaned on the railing, utterly absorbed in the story. She'd listened from start to finish—from the temple, to the laughter, to Aivis's death—and only now did she exhale softly, returning to the present.
She never imagined that her teacher, the great Serie, had once traveled with a demon—much less with the legendary sage Aivis himself.
In their tale, that demon named Elias seemed… different. He lived unlike his kin, closer to a human than a monster.
Her curiosity stirred.
"Teacher," she asked quietly, "after all these years… how do you really see him? Elias. He said he wanted to become human—was that—"
"Flamme."
Serie's voice cut through the question like cold steel. Her eyes, deep and ancient as still water, locked onto her disciple's.
"From the day I took you as my apprentice, I told you this once—and I'll say it again. A demon is a demon."
"No matter what they say, you must never believe them. Especially foolish things like 'wanting to become human.'"
"For a human mage, there's only one truth worth believing—your resolve to destroy demons at any cost."
Flamme froze.
She nodded as she always did, but this time the gesture felt hollow.
Something dark and uncertain stirred in her heart.
Is Elias really just another demon wearing a convincing mask?
"Oh, right. He asked me to give you this."
She held out a folded letter.
The moment Serie broke the seal, glowing runes surged from the paper and sank into her eyes, weaving themselves across her pupils.
When she blinked again, her lips had curved into a sharp, amused smile.
"That damned Elias… always trying to make amends for his mistakes."
Her expression darkened, then turned strangely radiant as she whispered the last line of the letter aloud—
"'Human–demon coexistence… through total war, is it?'"
Serie laughed quietly, baring two small, pointed fangs.
"The new Demon Lord… seems we think alike."
She stepped onto the edge of the balcony, spreading her arms wide as the night wind howled past her hair.
"Flamme…" she said softly, her voice carrying through the storm.
"War… is coming."
---
Seven days later, the news swept across the continent.
The Human–Demon War had begun.
Armies from every nation marched north, gathering beneath their banners.
Under Serie's command, those who held the Holy Emblem of the Holy Wand Court—the highest title among magi—were the first to move.
On the eighth day, Flamme's squad departed from the capital and made a brief stop at a quiet lakeside village—the one where Elias lived.
By the water's edge, the great demon sat alone, fishing rod in hand.
Only the sound of the breeze disturbed the silence.
"What a peaceful day," he murmured.
He wondered how much longer such days would last.
"…Come on, you slippery thing. Take the bait already," he muttered as the float bobbed.
Splash!
A stone suddenly struck the lake's surface, scattering ripples wide and sending the fish darting away.
Elias froze mid-reel.
So much for peace.
At that very moment, Elias once again felt it—
that familiar, sharp killing intent.
"You threw the whole world into chaos with a single letter," came a cold voice from behind,
"and yet here you are… fishing?"
Elias turned around lazily, meeting Flamme's glare with a faintly exasperated smile.
"My beautiful lady," he said with mock sincerity, "I'm just a messenger, not a warmonger."
He sighed and added, "I bet that little dwarf was thrilled when she heard war had broken out. Probably grinning so hard her face nearly cracked."
"Please don't speak ill of my teacher!" Flamme snapped, arms folded, her tone stiff and righteous. "Everything she does is for the future of humankind."
"Is that so?"
Elias smiled faintly. "If you say so, then it must be true."
He flicked the fishing rod, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"But tell me, with a war about to start, you still came all the way here to see me... Flamme, could it be that you've developed a certain... attachment?"
Flamme: "(*ﾟﾛﾟ)!!"
"W–what nonsense are you spouting?!"
She took two steps back, her face turning crimson.
"I only came to make sure you weren't causing trouble for the villagers!"
"You've been monitoring me for an entire month," Elias pointed out, feigning a sigh. "What next? Planning to keep watch over me for the rest of your life?"
He grinned slyly. "How about this instead, Flamme? Forget the war. Stay here with me. Let's live a quiet, peaceful life together."
Flamme: "(ꐦÒ‸Ó)"
"You—! You damned demon!"
Her cheeks burned red as she jabbed a trembling finger at his face.
"Keep talking and I'll call my squad over right now! We'll turn you into dust!"
"That might be difficult," Elias replied mildly.
"I checked with magic earlier—your teammates can't even see through my disguise. On the battlefield, you'd better protect them, not the other way around."
"Don't act like you care!" Flamme snapped, her voice rising with irritation.
"I don't need your fake concern, demon!"
She turned sharply, her orange hair whipping behind her.
"Just remember this—whenever I have time, I'll come back to check on you. You'd better behave yourself!"
She took a few steps away, then suddenly froze as Elias's calm voice drifted after her.
"Hey, Flamme."
"…What?"
"Don't die."
She didn't answer.
But her steps faltered—just for a heartbeat—before she walked away faster, vanishing into the trees.
Elias stared after her until even her shadow disappeared across the shimmering lake.
Then, slowly, his smirk faded, replaced by a distant, puzzled look.
"…What was that?"
"Why did I even say that out loud?"
He looked down at his hands, the fishing rod forgotten.
"There's something…" he murmured, pressing a hand against his chest.
"…something inside me that's been stirring. But what is it?"
---
Northern Continent — The Demon King's Castle, Ender.
In the cold throne room, Solithiel stood before the vast black throne, her usual gentle smile curving her lips.
"As you commanded, my lord. I've relayed Lord Elias's words to you."
From the throne came a low, abyssal voice—neither male nor female, but steeped in shadow.
"…I see. Well done, Solithiel. Tell me—what will you do now?"
"Do you wish to join the war, as the Seven Calamity Sages have?"
The woman shook her head slightly, the faintest sigh escaping her.
"Forgive my bluntness, my king, but a war where no one speaks before they die… holds little appeal for me."
"I see."
The Demon King leaned forward, his voice dark yet oddly amused.
"In your fascination with humans, you and my teacher are alike, Solithiel. Both of you—demons unlike any others."
Solithiel's gentle laughter echoed across the chamber.
"Ah, but you're mistaken, my lord."
"In my eyes, your teacher was a hundred times more insane than I'll ever be."
---
After Solithiel's footsteps faded beyond the gates, the throne room fell silent again.
The Demon King's shadow lingered amid the darkness, muttering softly like a ghost whispering to itself.
"…Elias."
"My great teacher."
"So, in the end, you chose the human side after all, didn't you?"
"No…"
The voice deepened, heavy with something that wasn't quite anger—more like sorrow twisted into something sharp.
"In truth, you never changed."
"A thousand years ago, when you stabbed me through the chest, you spared me only because I said one thing—because I told you I could feel something humans feel."
The shadow's voice trembled, growing colder.
"But you never realized…"
"That was just a lie."
"A desperate, meaningless lie from a dying demon trying to live another minute."
"As for these so-called human feelings…"
The shadow paused, its crimson eyes burning faintly in the dark.
"…This king has never understood them."