"How's your arm?"
As I spoke, I rolled my shoulder and examined the stump, not that there was much of a shoulder to roll.
For a while, she didn't respond, so I glanced in her direction.
She stared at the missing arm with lightly pursed lips and dazed eyes.
It's almost like she's saying, 'My arm? What about yours?' with her eyes alone...
My smile became a little awkward at her overly discerning expression.
She swallowed noticeably.
"Can... can it be healed..?"
There was regret laden in her eyes, and she turned away in guilt.
_She actually did more than I ever would have expected back there. She hid, evaded that Angels senses, and even dove in to defend me with... with whatever that magic was._
_Hah, I don't think control is her issue; I better not let her overtake me, huh..._
I almost chuckled outwardly at an inappropriate moment, but caught myself and looked down with a short sigh.
"It's not your fault, Rena; in fact, that was pretty amazing... and no, it doesn't feel like I can heal it."
Her face scrunched slightly.
"But.."
She ignored the comment but had obviously brightened.
"I chose to do it; I could have just let them die."
A slightly dissatisfied look crossed her face.
"Then, where... did they go?"
Narrowing my eyes, I turned around and looked over a few beat-up buildings in the distance; a few excuses started to come to mind.
"It's a secret technique... I'd be happy if you didn't tell anyone about it."
She nodded.
"Mm, okay; but I'm going to try and figure it out."
I looked down at her questioningly and rolled my eyes.
"Hah, if you do, just keep it a secret..."
"I will."
Something caught her eye, and she turned to the side.
I followed her gaze and scanned the luminescent swath of green shades, eventually landing on the body of Arshe, well hidden by the grass.
She seemed to fall into a daydream.
"What are you thinking?"
Her lips parted, and she blinked away the image in her eyes.
"I don't know. I recognise him; he sometimes came to the library, ignoring me like the rest..."
She paused and gently rubbed her arm.
"I... get why he kicked me, but I still hate him; I never wanted any of this, I'm no different, and none of this would have ever happened in the first place if none of them thought that way."
She looked up at me.
"And... I'm so glad I met you, but you didn't deserve to meet me."
...
I hesitated.
"Tch, what's that supposed to mean? I'm glad I met you too, and if you feel better, then you deserved to meet me."
A misty sigh filled the cold air as an obvious tension left her.
For once, she didn't seem embarrassed by it.
"Hm, I think we should rest. Can you start a fire, Rena? I'm going to look for something in the village."
I spoke while looking up at the soundless, quiet mirages of light in the sky.
"Okay."
_Nothing's happened... It's strange; I expected something sudden after getting the class._
_Even without Karin telling me, it was obvious that the crystal performed many functions; I could quite literally feel its presence filling the barrier._
_Have the Angels noticed? Can they detect them? I wonder what's going on..._
_Maybe I should go back? Tch, but what if Karin needs me to look dead?_
A sharp pang of hunger pain pierced through me.
_I don't need thoughts; I need food._
My stomach continued to growl, and I frowned.
_I have to wait anyway; I have no mana._
_Well, at least this means I've got time._
---
**POV: Demon Outpost**
---
The outpost was scattered.
Dozens of demons waded through the dense black fog that now permeated the entire space.
Some were shouting, and others were rushing and knocking into each other, doing all they could to prepare for the worst.
A few with wings had even jumped down into the depths opposite the imp sanctuary, choosing to hide themselves in the deep underground while it all blew over their heads.
Not everyone was a fighter, and an outpost was not meant for direct conflict but for stealth and guerrilla warfare or simply as a means to spread dominion and birth elites by chance.
The clacking of Alark's feet felt louder than the commotion outside; despite his brisk pace, the sound was a constant reminder of just how slow he was, and his body felt wrapped in tension.
That abyssal fog pressed against the windows, and they creaked even under light pressure as if they had all been submerged in that corpse-ridden lake outside.
He did all he could to pay it no mind, focusing solely on cradling the body in his arms.
Lost as to what he should think, he recalled the events he'd seen.
Ana had been acting more and more strangely; it all came rather suddenly, and he contemplated whether her powers or emotional state had declined in the stolen body.
Yet, despite his observations, there were few risks he was willing to take.
Fortunately, he had a safe, methodical approach to stealth thanks to how he'd aligned his magic over the years.
He would frequently mask his presence with illusion magic, the one alignment neutral between light and dark, and choose to idly pass Ana by; he had potential reasons to do so as well, after all.
She didn't notice him once, and as time passed, he became more daring—following her around, trying to figure out her plans—which was the least he could do, and it had started a while ago.
It gave him a sense of control over the situation, despite never actually taking any action.
His confidence almost returned when he found her in some deranged state, viciously killing the apprentice guards like a mindless imp... At the time, he lost himself in shock at the sight, not even attempting to stop her. It was only when she started ravaging the hidden door that he knew this bestial form was after something.
Considering his prior experience with Syrin, the goal seemed fairly obvious.
Clearly, there was some unique drive within this equally unique demon that was beyond her own awareness... She was simply born in the wrong place, and would only be a problem here.
It's only now that he realised he should have sent her to the capitol as soon as he found her with Karin.
Regardless, this new-found confidence had given him the motivation to see Karin...
Alark's eyes refocused and pierced the air in front of him; regret lay heavy in his heart and presented itself as a harshly cold exterior. The Demons rushing around avoided him on instinct; they continued merely going about their business, destroying written copies of research, dismantling the efficiently designed growth to product lines, or simply escaping without regard to responsibility.
He didn't miss the few, however, who looked at the body in his arms with ill-hidden contempt and disgust.
They didn't know what had happened, but they saw the few dots and drew their own lines.
Yet they weren't technically wrong; they were angry but didn't take a second look—how could they possibly take revenge anyhow? For them, she was no different than a storm, an ordinary disaster; blame didn't matter in the end.
Despite the calm exterior, Alark's mind was still in turmoil.
Just where did all that energy go?
His thoughts flashed with the images of Ana absorbing that fruit with unfathomable ease...
He stood there hoping it would kill her; it did, but the outcome still baffled him. That she could absorb the entire mass of crystallised source energy was beyond his wildest imagination.
The more he thought, the more he stressfully gnawed away at his lips, and, inevitably, the metallic taste of blood pulled his attention back to reality; he could silently lament the absurdity of his own unluckiness another time.
Of course, he should have expected this Demon would defy all principles of common sense and actually succeed, even in death. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or not that Ana had died now, couldn't she fight the Angels and take each other out?
Well, that was just wishful thinking; as if she'd stay behind.
He could feel a splitting headache coming on; this was too much stress for just a few days, and he felt like he could snap at any moment.
He just didn't want to think—didn't want to look down; just seeing her lifeless face riddled him with guilt. What else could he have done?
He was starting to just hate it all.
'Huh?'
A single thought broke its way into his mind.
Alark stopped and stared dumbfoundedly at Johan, who was half through the entrance to the stairway.
In his arms he held a large crate; on top were numerous other items and trinkets, but amongst those was the distillation lamp used in the evolution ceremony.
Before Alark could even begin to voice his confusion, Johan looked up at him, his lightly yellow-tinted eyes expressionless. He narrowed them slightly and looked Alark up and down, before turning around and pushing on down the stairs without a word.
Alark was stupefied—simply unable to comprehend what was going on anymore.
'Even during a crisis, he's like this.'
Alark sighed.
Not only had the outer barrier somehow remained intact, but now Johan was moving important items down to the imp enclosure... It could only be a coincidence, surely, but it didn't matter; he had to follow him anyway.
Rushing over, he began making his way down, being careful not to bump Syrin around on the way.
He clicked his tongue in irritation; the further he got, the thicker the blindness mirage became.
However, when he reached the ground, he found himself surprised again.
There was actually a path clear of the mirage; not only that, but there was a group of Demons all wondering around a huge, unsorted pile of items as they were ready to start a bonfire and pass the time.
He simply couldn't fathom what was going on anymore.
A few of them glanced at him one by one; some cocked an eyebrow, but none seemed surprised by his presence, which only threw him off even more.
"Johan."
Alark called out to the quiet Demon, who appeared lost in his thoughts.
"What's going on? And why did you walk off so fast."
As he got closer, he quieted down, knowing that the guy was actually always listening to everything.
Raising his hand to his chin, Johan lightly brushed his lower lip with his index finger; to most, it would look as if he was searching for the right words, but Alark knew him well enough to recognise that he was just working up the motivation to speak.
"Hmm, you're here. I expected Karin to bring her, but... I took one look at you and knew you'd follow me down, so I ran away hoping she'd find you first."
At that nonchalant reply, Alark wanted to massage his forehead, but his hands were full, frustrating him even more.
Johan glanced at Alark again from the corner of his eye.
"Just wait here. Since I'm not going back up, she'll assume the girl's already been found."
Alark's brows furrowed in abject confusion.
For most people, that amount of information isn't enough to piece it together, but Johan never seemed to understand that.
In the end, he gave up, closed his eyes, and stood patiently, simply ignoring everything until the answers came to him.