The Demon Lord Is An Angel
Chapter 108: Of Valor

Chapter 108: Of Valor

They arrived at the outpost late in the afternoon of the next day.

Well before they reached it, Kir noticed that the whole place had an air of security. A wooden palisade was guarded by a moat of sharpened sticks.

As the Black Sheep arrived in good order, Kir marched at the back of the formation; given how tall he was. Putting themselves on display was a show of good faith to let the watchmen know they weren’t hiding anyone. Which they were.

Stella had made the decision to copy Cheshire’s appearance, an act which had the raptor confused at first, then hissy. Once Kir had calmed Cheshire down enough for them to perch on opposite shoulders, she regarded Stella with wariness. Kir wondered if that indicated females of the species were competitive with each other.

Once they finished approaching the gate, the dwarvish watchwoman, who was clearly more of an adventurer, called for them to "Halt! State your business."

"Hey friend," Noir said, stepping forward and looking up at the woman who was a head taller than him, "My group, the Black Sheep, just came all the way up from the coast and through a bit of a dungeon. I’m Noir, and these are Sam, Namosa, Garoon, and Kir." He introduced them in order of their formation. "We’re hoping to sell the location of said dungeon before we head north and back to civilization."

"A dungeon you say. Wouldn’t happen to be the same one some Chain Syn ass hired for last year?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"I have no idea if the Syndicate has a claim to it; we just went down a few floors, lost our man, and now we’re done with dungeon life for the foreseeable future," Noir rubbed the back of his neck subconsciously.

"Must be rookies then. You guild?" she asked.

Noir winced. "We’re more of an unofficial adventuring group. Brought together by circumstances-"

"Can’t let you in if you’re not Valrians, Adventurer’s Guild, or some other official order. No rules against you camping outside though," she said flatly, her eyes going to Kir suspiciously.

Kir raised a hand. "I’m in the Adventurer’s Guild," he said.

"Got a badge?" she asked.

"Not on me. But the Guild in Norneau can attest that I was tested, if you have a scrypen-"

"Wait for the scrypen is at least a day. We only got the one, and that one goes to the rep in Darlbridge before Sousport or Xuport, before going anywhere else," she interrupted. "Finishing all the letters going out and coming in takes time."

"I’m from Darlbridge if that helps," Kir said. "Bridget Gale is my adoptive mother."

The dwarf shrugged. "Never heard of her, but you lot can walk there, another week or two north. Best I can do is you can set up camp while I check in with the Guild Chief and Valrian Warmancer. If anyone wants your dungeon location, they’ll go to you. Until then, be on your best behavior and watch out, we’ve had a problem running around the woods lately." She looked again at Kir, as if telling him with her eyes not to become a problem, then waved them away from the gate.

"That went a bit worse than expected but it wasn’t bad," Noir said as soon as they were close to the edge of the clearing that surrounded the hill the camp was built on. "I was hoping they’d at least let us in."

Looking back at the walls, Kir saw the gate was now closed and the guard was nowhere to be seen, likely informing her leadership of their arrival.

"What do you think their ’problem’ is?" Caroon asked, sitting heavily on a stump, one of many near the structure.

"Monsters," Sam replied, their tone more excited than usual.

Kir had noticed that, of everyone in the Black Sheep, Sam was the most enthusiastic for adventure. Caroon preferred guard duty to having to be constantly on the move. And Namosa was ambivalent as long as she was relatively safe and well-fed. Noir was a bit hard to read because he seemed to regard everything with the same irreverent, sarcastic humor and flat tone; but that didn’t mean he was completely inscrutable. Kir could tell Noir was uncomfortable about something.

A moment later, it clicked.

"It’s a demon, isn’t it Noir?" Kir said.

Noir sighed. "Is it that obvious what I was thinking?"

"No, but the Guild is supposed to protect people from monsters, hence they would let us in if it was one. Keeping people out implies that whatever they’re dealing with, they think it can infiltrate. That leaves spirits, who are rarely powerful enough or inclined to imitate people, angels, and demons." Kir laid out his argument as everyone else started removing their packs. He added the supplies from his dimensional storage to the mix.

"Kir’s smart," Sam said as she picked up one of the tentpoles.

Their confirmation came sooner than they expected. In the final hours of daylight, a woman approached, wearing heavy armor. As soon as she approached close enough to hail them, Kir noticed that she carried a smith’s hammer in addition to her sword.

She had long blonde hair tied back in a braid and silvery eyes. Her face was weathered and a little tan, and her ears were halfway between elven and human, suggesting she was of mixed parentage.

"Greetings," she said in a formal tone. "I am Constance van Valos, Warmancer Armorer of the Frontier Order. I greet you in honor as a Valrian Knight." She bowed stiffly but strongly enough that she had to whip her braid behind her head as she came up.

Everyone waited as Noir spoke for them, having agreed on such previously. "I’m Noir. These are the Black Sheep." He introduced them one by one. "I take it you wish for the glory of conquering a dungeon?"

Constance laughed. "Not so. I may not look it but I am approaching the end of my time as a fighter. I have another task, one which the four of you might be able to accomplish tonight. Do so and I will vouchsafe your entry."

"You want to tell us more about what it is you want before we wind up joining the ancient, very dead glory of the Valrian Empire?" Noir said.

Judging by their reactions, the rest of the group was with Kir in thinking Noir had just insulted the woman, but she just laughed again. "I like you, ram. Humor is often in short supply lately. As to the Empire, may it rest in peace. The People of Valor are stronger without it."

Her response made Kir more curious about what the Valrians actually were. Most of what he’d heard was simply they were wandering warriors that picked fights and hunted bounties to grow stronger, but that couldn’t have been all.

She launched into her explanation. "For the last few weeks, our camp has been besieged by a demon. A strong one. One of my groups was slain while hunting. We found them dead, maimed by claws, and left to rot. From the marks, I assume a Wrathian demon killed her; they favor physical strength and bare-handed slaughter."

She paused, sitting on a nearby stump. "Since then we’ve spotted the demon a few times near the camp, but it has always evaded us. With most of the teams away preparing to survey the frontier, there are few of us to deal with it. The last time we tried, it went around us and stole some supplies. Food, medicine. We think it might be in one of the caves, near a small lake to the northeast."

Kir was pissed she referred to the demon as an "it" but he held his tongue.

"So you want us, a party of not-adventurers and one maybe-adventurer to go hunting a big old demon?" Noir asked.

"One of my Valrians, a warrior named Vatima, is missing from the hunt. Find my warrior and bring her here if you are able. If she is dead, bring back her armor as proof. If you slay the demon, great, but I am content to wait for winter; when hunting it will prove easier." She looked directly at Kir, "I have angered you, half-blood."

Put on the spot, Kir crossed his arms, "You refer to the demon as ’it’."

"I know not its gender. Should I take it you would have problems hunting one of your own?" she answered.

That got Kir’s hackles up, but he had a bad record when it came to fights with Valrians, and for the sake of the Black Sheep he knew he couldn’t pick another fight here. Autumn was just beginning, and food would get more scarce the further north they went.

"If they are responsible for the deaths, I will not hesitate to do what I must, but I would at least prefer you acknowledge that demons are people," he said firmly.

She stared at Kir, silver eyes boring into his violet ones. Then she smirked.

"Almost two centuries ago I fought in a Heavenswar. I was trained to make demons corpses in my mind, first and foremost. You will not conquer twenty years of war tonight, boy. But for trying, I’ll say you might make a good Valrian; one of the justice Orders, perhaps. Those whose wars are lost causes. Many demonkin wind up there, when they join us."

"I have other plans," Kir replied, "than becoming a Valrian."

"Academy plans, I take it, unless that uniform is just for show," she answered back. "It’s a long way to Norneau."

Kir had donned his full uniform, which helped hide the weird glow inside him.

"I am a student of the Academy in Norneau. I had an accident in a dungeon and wound up in another dungeon. The Black Sheep saved me, and until we part ways, I am one of them."

Constance shrugged and stood. "I have delivered my offer. The sooner you start, the sooner you may shelter with us. I judge from your... aroma... that you’ve been wandering for a long time. You shall have all the luxuries at my disposal, including a bath, if you find my warrior."

She half turned, before looking at Kir. "A free lesson, boy. The first emperor Valris taught that strength begets change. If you wish to change a Valrian, fight for it."

She left the camp, her armor clanking lightly until she left the range of hearing.

Everyone looked at Kir.

Awkwardly, he said, "I’m sorry... I didn’t think she’d call me out like that."

"Kir’s tail. Too honest," Sam said, reaching over and poking it.

Kir sighed, thinking that he would never win at poker. "I can take Stella and scout the woods. Maybe we can pick up a trail since the moons are out."

"We could leave one person to make camp while the rest of us go," Noir said, looking Kir in the eyes.

The message was clear. You don’t have to do this.

After a long silence, Caroon broke the tension. "I’ll stay behind, my ability might start a fire, and things are pretty dry nowadays."

Kir had given him the Knight Commander’s longsword, but Caroon confessed he wasn’t very good with such a lightweight weapon.

"Alright then," Noir said resolutely. "Let’s get this over with. I need a razor and a gods-damned bath."