I'm exhausted... Asura thought as he trudged back to his room, Wain trailing behind him. His anger still simmered, but he knew it was best to let it go, at least for now. Pushing the old man any further wouldn't have ended well. I don't want to jam my thumb in the wound any deeper... he mused, the image oddly fitting. Otherwise, he'd truly deserve the label of demon.
Asura never backed down from a fight, but this was different. A confrontation now would have caused irreparable damage. The children would be left vulnerable, and he couldn't risk that. Besides, he had grown fond of his new companions. It's been a long time since I've had friends like these... he thought, a rare wave of affection washing over him.
Ash was a pain, sure, but their presence brought him a kind of joy he hadn't felt in years. Being alone was brutal. He had spent countless years in his desolate realm with only a television for company. Scrolling, clicking, watching, repeating... He had consumed every film, show, documentary, game show, news program, and sporting event ever created. Twice! No, maybe three times? I lost count after the rewatches began.
The boredom had been all-consuming, gnawing at his soul. His taste in entertainment had deteriorated to the point where he found himself watching even the most abysmal films ever made. "Pumpkin Vampire..." he mumbled, the memory making him shudder.
"Pumpkin what?" Wain asked, tilting his head. "Nothing," Asura replied quickly.
He craved social interaction, but he had been trapped, isolated, for so long. Now? I have friends. People I can talk to every day. He didn't want to lose that, not so soon after finding it. Sure, they try to kill me occasionally, but what are friends for if not to try and take your life? he thought with a wry grin. Of course, he would never admit that to anyone, especially not Wain. The human would never let him live it down.
They walked in silence for a while, the tension in the air thick and heavy. "I'm sorry," Asura finally said, his voice quiet. Wain glanced at him, surprised. "What?"
"I'm sorry..." Asura repeated, his gaze fixed on the floor. "For what?" Wain asked, his voice now tinged with confusion. "I don't know... everyone was so pissed off back there, and depressed afterwards," Asura explained. "I know you all cared for her, but I was just angry the whole time, yelling..."
"Oh... don't worry about it, dude," Wain said, waving a hand dismissively. "Sarah's just been around for... well, ever. Way before I arrived here, at least. I know the old man was close to her." He exhaled as if still processing the encounter. "Supposedly, in the past, she was the only one here with him before the team and the chef and the other nuns."
"Do you think the old man is mad at me?" Asura asked, his voice laced with worry.
"I think so," Wain admitted. "But maybe we should calm down on this rampaging thing. You can enjoy a good fight, but like Mel said, we're a team." He glanced at the ogre as they walked. "You can't just keep running off like you do. What would you have done if Lily had been intercepted before reaching us? She might have died, you know."
"You're right..." Asura conceded. "It's just... it's been a long time since I've dealt with people." His eyes were clouded with a deep sadness that Wain couldn't quite comprehend. He felt like those words held a hidden weight, a story left untold. "What happened to the ogres?" Wain asked, his curiosity piqued.
Asura glanced at him over his shoulder, his reply sending a chill down Wain's spine. "All of them are dead..."
Wain had never heard of an entire race being wiped out. If what Asura said was true, then the ogre realm was empty, devoid of life. An entire realm... unpopulated. The thought was staggering. What could have killed off all the ogres? he wondered. What was strong enough to eradicate an entire race? Is Asura the sole survivor? No wonder there were no records of ogre encounters in the past hundred years. Only one remained. "What happen—"
Asura shook his head, his eyes filled with a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion. It was the weariness of memories, of past horrors witnessed and endured. His eyes told a story, a story of loss and sorrow, as if all the joy had been drained from them. "Don't ask today," Asura said, his voice quiet. "Maybe another day..."
"Wh—... okay," Wain replied, respecting his wishes. He stopped at Asura's door, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke. "Man, you reek like a bunch of animals died in your hoodie," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Did you poop yourself like that lady at the gas station?" Asura managed a small smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.
Asura mustered a slight smile, the corners of his lips twitching. "That bad, huh?"
"Yeah, it's bad," Wain confirmed, wrinkling his nose. "You really need to wash your clothes and take a shower."
"Guess I'll go wash up in the laundry room, then," Asura said, already turning towards the door. "I'll be back." Wain stopped him, his expression serious. "Dude, I'm going to trust you on this." His eyes pleaded with every fiber of his being. "Please don't do anything else. For the sake of today, nothing else, okay?"
Asura held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, man. I won't do anything."
Wain deeply exhaled. "Promise?"
"I promise," Asura said, his voice earnest. "I'll just wash up and come back." He turned and headed down to the laundry room, shedding his clothes as he went, collecting them into his arms. Reaching the washing machine, he crouched down and crammed his filthy attire inside.
"Should be just like they do in the shows..." he muttered, watching the machine fill with water and begin to spin. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees. He watched the clothes tumble in the soapy water, round and round and round, until... the water turned red. A thick crimson stain spread through the machine, and the fabric seemed to twist and contort, forming a face. "You did this!" a voice shrieked from within the washer. "You caused our death!"
Asura recoiled in horror, scrambling backwards as a goblin child's face and hands pressed against the glass, pounding frantically. The goblin, its features barely visible through the blood-red water, choked and sputtered, gasping for air. "Wheregh! Wergh you!"
Asura rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was hallucinating. He removed his hands, and the child was gone, the blood vanished as if it had never been there. But the image was burned into his mind, the accusation echoing in his thoughts. He stared at the tumbling clothes, the phantom face still vivid in his memory. "I should take a shower," he mumbled, "wake myself up."
He headed down the hall to the shower room, the icy water a welcome shock against his skin. "Refreshing..." he sighed, leaning against the wall, the water cascading over him. He stayed there for an hour, letting the water wash away the grime and the lingering images.
After his shower, he retrieved his clothes from the surprisingly efficient two-in-one washer-dryer. He chuckled at the sight of the golden rune glowing within the machine. Holy mana can be used for menial tasks, I guess, he thought, pulling on his warm, dry clothes.
He returned to his room, carefully opening the door so as not to wake Wain, who was snoring loudly, sprawled across his bed. Asura smiled. The human snored like an old man. He should get that checked out… The ogre climbed into his own bed, finally ready to sleep, to put the day behind him.
What a stressful and somewhat fun day, he mused. Fighting the minotaurs was fun, but it got boring pretty quickly with those stupid bulls just charging blindly. Meh, at least I can look forward to Malachi. The thought of finally getting his hands on the cultist leader was a tantalizing prospect. When I finally get my hands on that rat! Ohohoho, I'll rip his spine from his back and beat him with it. Malachi had always managed to slip away, but not this time.
But other questions lingered in his mind. What was up with that faerie, though? he wondered. There was no tree race, only elves, faeries, and nymphs. Why did it want to die? And what was with that face in the washing machine? A goblin child? Having been alone for so long, he was starting to forget what goblins even looked like. Why did it blame me? He had never killed any goblins, at least not that he could remember.
As he delved deeper into his memories, a throbbing headache began to build. "Shit... man." The pain intensified, a barrier forming in his mind. He tried to push through it. "SHIT!" He clutched his head, his fingernails digging into his scalp.
"Wh-what the h-hell is th-that?..." he gasped, his voice strained. The exhaustion, compounded by the day's events and the mental strain, finally overwhelmed him. He lay panting, his eyelids growing heavy. Sunshine and rainbows, please! he thought desperately. Sunshine and rainbows…
His mind became lost to the land of dreams.
Asura's eyes flickered open, met by the jarring sight of an endless white expanse. The room, if it could be called that, stretched in every direction, a blindingly pristine void of white that seemed to go on for eternity.
"Did I die?" he wondered aloud, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness. "Wow, what a shitty way to go... in my sleep? Really? Where's the fun in that? Couldn't it have been a crazy battle?" The ogre stared out into the void. "Maybe against a legendary shadow, one of Orthos' knights?! Would have been sick! Damn... So, is this heaven?"
He stood uncertainly, unsure if the floor beneath him was solid. Would he fall through if he took a step? He hesitated, then, summoning his courage, he moved forward. The ground held firm. "Hello?" he called out, his voice reverberating through the endless white expanse, repeating and fading into the distance. "Damn, this place is huge!"
He wandered through the barren room, his eyes tracing the flawless white surfaces. There were no imperfections, no blemishes, nothing but the stark, sterile box surrounding him. Hours passed, and still he walked, the scenery unchanging. He glanced back, wondering if he had even moved from his starting point. Was any of this real? "This is dum—"
A sudden wetness enveloped his foot, cutting off his words. He looked down, searching for the source. The pristine white floor was gone, replaced by a thick crimson liquid that was quickly rising around him. He reached down, his fingers sinking into the viscous fluid, confirming his suspicions. Blood. As he let his fingers drift through the liquid, a hand erupted from the bloody depths, its grip like iron as it seized his wrist and pulled downwards.
"Holy shit, you're strong!" Asura exclaimed, straining against the relentless pull. The hand wouldn't budge, dragging him deeper into the crimson abyss. He braced himself, his other arms pressing against the floor, which was now rapidly dissolving into the blood-red sea. He groaned, his muscles straining against the overwhelming force. "Just what the hell—"
Thousands of other hands burst from the liquid, grasping, clawing, their touch sending waves of revulsion through him. They seized his arms, their fingers digging into his flesh, causing a searing pain that made him cry out. He couldn't tell if he was being pulled down or if the crimson tide was rising, but he was slowly being consumed. "LET GO—LET GO OF ME!"
He fought back with all his might, but it was no use. He was outmatched, overpowered. The crimson tide was winning. He gasped for air as the liquid rose above his mouth, a single, terrifying thought echoing in his mind. This is it. I really am dead... Fuck, guess I'm headed to hell..
Gasping for air, Asura abruptly jolted up, his breaths rapid and shallow. Wain, startled by the sudden commotion, watched with concern as the ogre scrambled out of bed, his eyes wide and unfocused, darting frantically around the room. "Woah, woah, what's up, man? You good?" Wain asked, his voice laced with worry.
Asura's wild gaze finally settled, his eyes regaining their focus. "I'm back..." he breathed, relief washing over him. "Oh man, I'm still alive!" He let out a shaky laugh, patting himself down as if to confirm his own existence. "I'M ALIVE!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room.
Wain's concern deepened. Asura's outburst, his bizarre behavior, suggested he had just endured something truly terrifying. "You good, dude?" Wain repeated, his brow furrowed. Asura glanced at Wain, then back at his bed, his eyes lingering on the rumpled sheets. "Yeah, I'm good... very good. Never better," he replied, his voice a little too bright.
His response did little to reassure Wain. Asura was acting strangely, standing frozen in the middle of the room, staring at his bed as if it might suddenly spring to life and attack him. "Bro—" A loud crash interrupted Wain. The door flew open, slamming against the wall, and Ash stormed into the room."The captain wants to talk again," he announced. "Get ready."
"Hello to you too..." Asura muttered. "Dude, are you really okay?" Wain asked, his voice betraying a hint of concern. "Yeah, just uh... nightmare, you know?" Asura replied dismissively.
"Shut up and get ready, you two!" Ash snapped. "We've wasted enough time with this demon's antics." Wain and Asura groaned in unison. "Fuck you too, bud," Asura retorted. "Being racist must be your life's motto, man." Ash rolled his eyes, and the two friends exchanged a look of dread. They knew they couldn't avoid the inevitable confrontation any longer. Their fate was sealed.
As they entered the classroom, Asura immediately pointed at Wain, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It was Wain's fault," he declared. "He didn't watch me." Wain gaped at him, speechless, betrayed. "What the hell, man?" he sputtered.
"I'm kidding... slightly," Asura said with a grin. He braced himself for the old man's wrath, the weight of his gaze heavy upon him. "Look, man, I'm—"
"So, what happened during your fight last night?" the old man interrupted, his voice calm and measured. "Mel gave me a recap of the information on Jormungandr. I need to know what happened with you and Malachi." Asura paused, analyzing the old man's expression. He seemed preoccupied, as if more pressing matters weighed on his mind.
"I uh—wait... um, I need to apologize for how I behaved last night..." Asura stammered. "Apology accepted," the old man said, his tone dismissive. "Wait, no, that wasn't—"
"It's fine, Asura," the old man interrupted again. "You didn't do anything wrong. I would have acted the same way if I had found out."
"Yeah, but I blew up a building, started some crap here..." Asura sheepishly replied.
"And blew my car door off, yes, I know," the old man said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And you aren't mad?" Asura asked, surprised. The old man chuckled, stroking his beard. "Oh, don't misunderstand me," he said. "I am furious with you. Do it again, and I will send you to hell with a recommendation letter. However, you also saved Lily again, caught the traitor, and stopped Malachi. You prove yourself time and time again…" He tilted his hand, a gesture to sit. "Now, take a seat so we can get through this report."
They all settled into their usual seats. "How did you know I fought Malachi?" Asura asked, curiosity piqued. "He was long gone before Mel showed up." A wide grin spread across the old man's face, making Asura shift uncomfortably.
"I told you we knew what you'd be up to," the old man said, his eyes twinkling. "You didn't think I would fully trust a monster, did you? We always have you under surveillance, so keep that in mind if you try to plan something sinister."
Asura crossed his arms and tilted his head. "Nah, I didn't think you'd trust me," he admitted. "But now I'm curious why you do. Why did you keep me around and not kill me when we met? I'm a monster, after all, or a demon by your shi—... dumb standards. An ogre shows up on your doorstep, and you keep him around? Idiotic, if you ask me."
The old man laughed. "Finally, using your head for something other than headbutting and causing trouble," he said. "I let you live because monsters cannot normally enter a cathedral. An enchantment prevents demonic mana from entering."
"Quotidian..." Asura corrected.
"From what the Temple knows, every monster has quotidian mana," the old man continued, "and yet you can just stroll inside without a care in the world. We now know it's because you lack mana, but the entire situation is strange. To be summoned with a ritual, mana is needed. It's how cultists link their ritual to a monster, allowing passage. So, how did you get summoned?" He asked rhetorically. "We don't know. If we figure it out, it may provide useful information to prevent summoning in general. Everything we know about you is abnormal."
"Thanks?" Asura said, unsure how to respond.
"To be honest," the old man said, "forgive me if I'm being rude, but we are using you. You have been useful in helping find and stop monsters. Not only did you help us find out Jormungandr is their goal, but you were also the reason we now know monsters are lurking in the human realm right under our noses. We also found out a vampire was pretty close to us."
"To be fair, the Temple probably knows about it already," Asura said casually. The old man frowned, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
"Do you really think that a vampire and a business run by the succubi race would have lasted this long in the human realm if they didn't know?" Asura explained. "The Temple is in on it. At least, that's what I heard from my aunt. She said she made a deal, a business deal." Ash exploded. "YOU DARE ACCUSE THE TEMPLE OF—"
The old man slammed his fist on the desk, silencing Ash. He raised a hand to stop his protests. "What type of deal is it?" he asked Asura."I don't know," Asura shrugged. "I don't snoop that much... I do know they both get something out of it, though." The old man pondered this revelation, his mind racing. What else was the Temple hiding from him? "This is why we let you live and trusted you," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Even now, we are finding out something new about ourselves."
The revelation that he was being used and tracked barely registered with Asura. As long as he got to fight, the rest was inconsequential. "Well, as long as I get to fight, I don't care what happens," he said with a shrug. "To answer your earlier question, Malachi showed up. He had some snake chick and the lion lady. I beat their ass... my bad." He paused. "Malachi and the snake lady ran away. I tore the lion lady in half, but I don't know where she went."
"Snake lady?" the old man asked, confused. "Oh yeah, a Naga," Asura clarified. "Well, more specifically, a Gorgon." Wain's head snapped up, his eyes wide with alarm.
"A Gorgon?!" Wain exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief. "Yeah, a GoRgOn," Asura mocked, rolling his eyes. "Why are you so surprised?" Wain's head snapped to the old man, searching for an answer. "Aren't those high-ranking noble dragons?"
"Uh, I guess?" Asura shrugged. "Not really, though. If it ain't a dragon, it ain't high in the ranks of dragon nobility. Damn, those—Jerks don't care about anyone but themselves." He scoffed. "Wyverns? Treated like crap."
The ogre paused, gathering his thoughts. "Lastly, they had a tree guy." The old man looked up from the book on his desk, his brow furrowed. "A tree guy?"
"Yeah, I have no clue what it was," Asura explained, "but it had faerie quotidian mana. They were feeding it corpses. I assume they were using it as some sort of medium to open a gate for Jormungandr." He stated as if his mind were churning. "Damn, that worm... Man, I suck at this no-cursing thing..." Asura stared with open eyes, ready for a reprimand.
"Aren't a majority of the faeries plant-like creatures?" the old man asked. Asura's eyes widened in shock. "Um, no? What a stupid question! There's the faeries, the elves, the nymphs. Like, the dudes with pointy ears, ever heard of them?"
"In books, yes," the old man replied, "but the faerie race has always been tree kin, carnivorous plants, and fungus monsters. A few exceptions are those with butterfly wings."
Asura was speechless. "No..." he said slowly, shaking his head. "They've never been those. They can make trees come to life and stuff. That's like, their thing. But faeries are definitely not just tree people. They're pale, human-like people with pointy ears and tall, slender bodies..."
Wain shrugged. "We've never seen elves, faeries, or nymphs, then."
Where the hell are the elves then? Asura wondered. Elves loved to interact with people... If humans haven't seen them, then what the hell are those tree things? He knew that faeries brought trees to life with mana, and those trees fed off that mana, meaning they had to stay near their creator. And faeries loved to brag about their creations. There's no way the fey wouldn't brag about this to the humans. There's no way they haven't seen any of them...
The old man sighed, pacing back and forth as he processed Asura's words. He glanced out the window, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I've contacted the main cathedral overlooking ours," he finally said. "They should be dispatching a few paladins to help soon. In the meantime, we need to figure out where Malachi will show up before his next ritual takes place. He's trying to collect blood, and a lot of it, far more than what's necessary for a normal monster summoning." He faced them all with grim eyes. "The evidence supports Jormungandr's awakening... You all will go to town to see if you can find out where Sarah was supposed to meet them. Wain and Asura will go downtown. Mel and Ash will take the north side."
Asura slumped in his chair, groaning dramatically. "Boooorrriinnnggggg," he whined. "Can I wait this one out? You guys can find him, and I'll wait here. This whole searching and investigating stuff ain't my thing. I do the punching."
The old man snapped his fingers, and Asura's chest erupted in flames. The rune beneath his shirt glowed brightly, and mana coursed over his body, causing an intense itching sensation. Smoke billowed from the hole in his neck, obscuring his vision. Asura swatted at the smoke, but it was no use. It continued to pour from the openings in his clothes, filling his lungs and sending him into a coughing fit.
"Alright, alright, I'll help," he gasped, waving his hands in surrender. "Damn, geezer, stop this!"