Chapter 13: The Merciless Demon
Light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling window, casting fragmented lace curtain shadows upon the walnut table. Outside, golden specks filtered through sycamore leaves quietly tilted across the coffee's latte art, as if compressing the entire town's peace and tranquility into that white porcelain cup.
Aura took a delicate sip of coffee, a gentle breeze brushing through her hair, seeming to ferment along with the coffee's aroma.
'Not bad at all... These human creatures are more useful than I imagined.'
[Aura's Favorability Slightly Increased]
[Aura's Favorability Slightly Increased]
[Aura's Favorability: 105]
Her current mood was rather complex. Though this 'human' was peculiar, he had indeed given her some enjoyable experiences today.
"How do you find it? Does this beverage called coffee suit your palate?"
Fingal felt his wallet... He could only offer thanks for Lord Orden's generosity, otherwise he wouldn't have had the means to afford this indulgence.
Though he held the position of a noble's guardsman, he wasn't particularly well-off. The rural northern nobility were poor to begin with, and their lackeys naturally didn't fare much better.
After finishing the ice cream, he'd taken Aura around sampling various foods, occasionally triggering Gluttony entry enhancements—though these were time-limited.
But ultimately, he'd managed to keep Aura's mouth constantly occupied, making her forget her earlier thoughts of slaughtering the town.
"Pathetic."
"Far inferior to ice cream. You lowly Paramecium, how dare you offer me such mediocrity?"
Aura instinctively retorted, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she seemed to have been led along by this human throughout their journey.
The lowly Paramecium remained silent—Aura's words often had to be interpreted in reverse.
"Still... you humans aren't entirely useless. What you said isn't completely wrong either."
Aura gulped down the coffee in two noisy swallows. The scalding brown liquid traveled down her oesophagus into her stomach and intestines.
'The flavor is good, but it hurts... Do humans enjoy drinking this stuff?'
Feeling the burning sensation in her gastrointestinal tract, the female demon clutched her stomach—though it mattered little. Every Demon possessed high regenerative abilities, and such minor discomfort would heal on its own within minutes.
"...?"
What the hell?
Fingal's eyelid twitched. Damn, do all demons drink boiling water?
"Ahem... Aura-sama, coffee isn't meant to be drunk that way."
He offered a well-intentioned reminder.
"I'll drink it however I like. Got a problem with that?"
Aura's pretty eyebrows arched sharply. Though she realized she'd been somewhat indulgent with this human, she wasn't about to accept instructions on how to drink coffee.
Fine.
You're the boss. Drink boiling water then.
Since you won't listen to good advice, don't blame me later.
Fingal's face darkened with frustration. He decided then—he'd serve Aura boiling water every single day from now on.
Burn your damn throat out.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the street—Fingal frowned as he looked up to see a dozen soldiers jogging toward them with weapons, followed by a plump nobleman in formal attire.
"This is the place!"
"Over here! You see!"
'?'
Fingal sensed trouble. His memories about his current identity were sparse, recollections seeping back slowly like water from a squeezed sponge.
Within moments, soldiers had surrounded the area.
Aura continued drinking her coffee, though her eyes narrowed slightly as she observed the humans. The corners of her lips curled, as if finding the situation amusing.
"Well... Fingal, it seems your plans will be hard to fulfill now."
The food was enjoyable, but when it came to weak humans daring to challenge her, Aura always retaliated with force.
Fingal's hand drifted to the cruciform sword strapped to his back, his heart sinking to the depths... These damned fools really knew how to create problems.
The atmosphere had been quite pleasant moments ago, and he'd been happily building hypnotic rapport.
"What seems to be the matter, friends?"
He rose with an innocent expression, smiling warmly at the crowd—only to be met with the soldiers' somewhat helpless faces.
At that moment, sharp clapping sounds cut through the crowd.
Clap clap!
A somewhat stout nobleman standing about 160cm emerged from the group—he appeared quite young yet carried excess weight. If one were to compare him to a character image...
He somewhat resembled Harry Potter's cousin, speaking in that condescending, punchable tone.
Mut Orden, the spare second son of the Lord Orden family—originally just an extra in the story, or so Fingal had thought.
"Hey! Fingal, you bastard..." Mut brazenly eyed Aura. "Shouldn't you be off fighting the Demons with Father? And here you are, fooling around with women!"
"Hey, hey, hey, are you looking down on me or something?"
So it's this kind of plot, huh.
Memories flooded back... Fingal found it utterly ridiculous. The classic brainless noble, the classic rivalry, all because of the absurd reason that he was handsome and had caught the eye of some village girl this second young master fancied.
And this guy kept targeting him, openly and covertly. If not for Old Man Orden being a fair person, he'd have been driven out long ago.
Is this going too far?
Is being handsome a crime?
Fingal sighed. At this point, there was nothing he could do to stop it—or rather, go ahead and kill each other. What's it to me?
The world would be cleaner with a few less of them.
These people combined weren't enough for Aura to handle with one hand.
Just perish.
He'd tried hard enough. If he couldn't do something, he couldn't do it. Time to slack off.
He'd done pretty well.
Yes, he was great. He'd worked hard.
When faced with something unsolvable... just run away!
This was one of Fingal's life mottos—Sorry, bro, I've got to bounce. There's nothing I can do!
Still, he offered one last attempt at persuasion:
"Hey... it's not too late for you all to back off now. Don't follow this idiot pig into trouble, alright?"
He really didn't want any trouble. If Aura got serious, this border town wouldn't survive the fight.
"...?"
What the hell.
The fat noble's face scrunched up in anger... Idiot pig? Me?
"Have you lost your mind... Seize him... Wait, behead him!"
"???"
The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, reluctant to act.
"Are you disobeying me?! With Father away, I'm in charge now!"
Fine.
The soldiers had no choice but to surround Fingal, preparing for the execution—in this world, a noble's word was absolute.
"Sigh... No helping it then. Aura-sama, please use your Scales of Obedience to control them."
Fingal rolled his eyes. Hopeless.
However... a crisp, slightly puzzled female voice rang out—Aura's merciless refusal.
"Hah? Are you joking?"
"You're the one who's my servant... I order you to kill them."
Aura sneered twice. Servants were meant for situations like this; she couldn't be bothered to lift a finger herself.
"...?"
Fingal turned back in disbelief. Me?
What nonsense is this horned idiot spouting!