The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 540: The Same Coin

Chapter 540: The Same Coin

"You’re worried about her eating?" Fyren asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Instead of dismissing it as childish, though, he fixed his eyes on me. I squirmed under his gaze, ducking my head, my tail swishing self-consciously. Why did he look like he was agreeing with her?

"What?" I asked, cringing further as they all looked at me.

Fyren rubbed his chin, a playful glint in his eye. "That’s actually a good point," he said thoughtfully. "I seem to remember her skipping meals a little too frequently, always getting distracted with a new spell or something."

I flinched, and both Elise’s and R’lissea’s eyes bored into me. They hadn’t been with me long enough to notice such a pattern, but all three of us were aware that on the day we’d developed Requiem, I had missed breakfast and lunch, only eating dinner at R’lissea’s insistence.

"It was a coincidence," I mumbled, my tail curling around my leg.

They burst out laughing, and even Fyren cracked a smile. After a moment, I couldn’t help but join in, sighing and rubbing my horn bashfully.

"In all seriousness, though," Fyren said, his tone shifting, causing the others to fall silent. "We don’t have time to waste. I believe the Apostles will be having their own meal, however, and I shall see to it that Xiviyah joins them."

"Promise?" R’lissea asked, surprisingly earnest.

Fyren inclined his head. "I do."

"I’m right here," I muttered, still flushed, though my heart felt light.

"Fine then, if he promised, I have no choice but to let you go," R’lissea conceded, though her brow was furrowed with worry. "But I don’t like it," she added, gazing up at me with her large, worried eyes. "Luke’s been a little too interested in you recently. Just... be careful."

"I will," I reassured her, "and don’t worry so much. It’s just a talk."

"I hope so," Elise murmured, her eyes following me as I moved across the room.

"As for you," I said, glancing at Fable, who had risen to follow me, "stay here, alright? Fyren can protect me just fine."

His golden eyes met Fyren’s, and for a moment, I thought he would growl as he had with Luke, but he simply lay back down, resting his head on his paws, his tail twitching restlessly. I felt a surge of trust and confidence for the demon through our bond, and I smiled. I worried more about Elise and R’lissea; I was grateful he would guard them.

As we left the room, I glanced back to see my two friends whispering to each other, their eyes lingering on me.

"Thank you," I said softly, shifting my gaze from them to Fyren as we disappeared down the hallway.

"This again?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I thought I told you bringing you to the inn wasn’t a big deal."

"No, not that," I said, shaking my head. "For protecting them. I can only imagine how some of the demons must have been treating them. But they both seem... happy."

He sighed, though, despite the drawn-out sound, it was filled with satisfaction. "They’re important to you, aren’t they?" he asked.

I nodded, and he shrugged.

"Then what else matters?" he mused. "Still, it would be nice if they returned my gaze every once in a while."

"I can’t say I blame them," I admitted, reaching up to rub my horn. "You were intimidating to me, too. I didn’t know what to do when you insisted on following me around after the gate."

"I suppose that’s fair," he chuckled, "though I suspect it has more to do with their reception and the attitudes towards them here among the other demons. Elise is naturally shy around strangers, made more so by her enslavement, but the entire world worships R’lissea as a hero. Seeing nothing but hostile faces from demons who want her dead is probably a shock."

I fell silent, unable to disagree. They both looked much as I did around the regular inhabitants of this world: timid and afraid, always bracing for a scornful word.

"Don’t look so down," Fyren said gently, "I was just starting to enjoy your smile."

"I-I..." I stammered, my cheeks flushing.

"It’s alright, it isn’t your fault," he reassured me, correctly guessing my thoughts. "They’re with you because they want to be, and such things are the price they choose to pay."

"Humans... demons..." I whispered, pondering his words. "They’re not so different."

"No, they’re not," he agreed. "Just two sides of the same coin, the only difference being which power they serve."

My initial fears for the state of the city proved unfounded. The absolute devastation I’d witnessed upon leaving Haven turned out to be localized, which made sense, considering the Remnants had spawned around me. The destruction was concentrated wherever I had been.

But the rest of the city wasn’t untouched. Shock waves from the spells and effects that caused the craters had blasted multi-story buildings, shattering windows and leaving cracks in the walls. Corpses littered the alleys, and dried pools of blood stained the streets where bodies had lain before the demons devoured them.

As we came across a half-eaten body, I shuddered and turned away, my grip on Fyren’s arm tightening.

"The demons... I thought they just ate souls," I whispered, holding back the bile rising in my throat.

"We can subsist on mana alone," Fyren explained, his voice grim, "yet many acquire a taste for flesh. I’ve heard claims it helps absorb more mana from their souls, but I’ve never wanted to try it myself."

I shuddered again, and we quickly moved on. This was the first time I’d truly witnessed the aftermath of a demon invasion, and it was a gruesome sight.

"Where are we going?" I asked, desperate to distract myself.

"To the central keep. The apostles have set up their headquarters there."

"And the refugees?" I asked, my anxiety returning. "Did Luke really spare them?"

Fyren glanced at me, his expression softening. "He did," he confirmed. "While anyone with any power was butchered for the scions, I believe he managed to save almost eighty percent of those with only a first-level soul. A staggering number, really, more than I’ve seen in any of the countless worlds I’ve walked."

"That many?" I breathed a sigh of relief.

Luke had kept his promise. Even if he had exploited my weakness and used Haven to bear the brunt of the Divine’s power, the collateral damage was low, and not that many had suffered for it. My hands might be red with blood, but even I couldn’t lay this at my feet.

Though my mind was eased on that matter, my tail began to rustle anxiously as we neared the keep, my thoughts returning to Haven and the goddess within. There was no way Luke could ignore that; even if he did, the other apostles wouldn’t.

"It’s alright," Fyren said suddenly, sensing my apprehension. "Whatever you’re worried about, we’ll face it together."

I looked up at him, and he gave me a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," I said, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. I wasn’t alone anymore; I had to remember that.

Over half of the keep had been destroyed in the battle, and even now, a week later, the residual mana from the spells lingered. Most notable were the dark blotches of curse magic, visible to my eyes alone, that clung to the ward towers and slain corpses. The stone beneath the darkness was frail and brittle as if the curse magic had eaten away at its very essence. It was a stark reminder that curse magic was more than just domination; it was a force of corruption and decay. And that power was Luke’s.

A squad of evolved demons stood guard in front of the mangled remains of the keep gates, the female curse demon from the war council at their head. She wore the same stark white robes, the hem now stained with blood, and the same condescending sneer. Luke had called her Ixtra, if I remembered correctly.

Her sneer deepened as we approached, and Fyren gave her a challenging look. I flinched slightly as she returned it, unleashing her aura with full force. It buffeted the courtyard, sending eddies of dust swirling around us, but the pressure against my soul was light.

"Why bother soiling yourself with a Tainted?" she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "Surely you have better things to do than lead filth like her around, and in such a lowly form, no less."

Fyren’s expression remained calm, but his hands clenched into fists. She noticed, and a glimmer of pleasure glittered in her eyes.

"Perhaps you’re bedding her, then," she sneered. "I can think of no other reason that one such as yourself would—"

"Move," Fyren interrupted, his voice dangerously low.

His aura intensified, pressing down on the squad of sixth-level demons. I shivered, startled by the barely contained fury in his voice. He hadn’t moved, yet every instinct screamed at me to flee, and judging by the demons’ wide eyes, they felt the same.

The curse demon, surprisingly, didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze with defiance. "I can’t allow something like it—" she gestured at me rudely "—to threaten the apostles."

"I don’t think the Apostle of the Descent would appreciate you barring our way," Fyren countered. "It was he who sent for us."

His use of Luke’s formal title, beyond his role as the Apostle of Curses, raised the demon’s eyebrows. The tension thickened as she took an aggressive step forward, her aura flaring to match Fyren’s.

"He is but a child, Lord of Ash," she declared, "and while he’s played his role well, his naivety is blinding. Take the Tainted and leave. This world is ours now. We don’t require any further assistance from it or your Devoted."

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