High above the ground, Marina and Chara made their way westward, with Chara clinging to Marina's back. Unlike her flight with Queen Duvessa, Chara found little pleasure in this journey.
"Can't you fly straight?" Chara exclaimed, her words buffeted by the wind. "You're making me nauseous!"
"I can't hear what you are saying!" Marina called over her shoulder, feigning ignorance. Even though Chara's words were lost to the wind, Marina could totally understand what she was saying.
Chara, aware of Marina's ruse, slammed her body against Marina's back, causing the demoness to stumble in the air. In a split second, Marina surrendered, straightening her wings to fly smoothly across the sky.
"Fine, fine," Marina grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Happy now, princess?"
Chara ignored the jab, keeping her gaze fixed on the scenery below them as they flew over lush farms and rust-colored rooftops, their destination ever closer with each passing mile.
As they neared their destination, Chara pointed down at the ground below. "There, that's the place," she said, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Amidst the rolling fields, a solitary timber house stood alone, its roof protected by a worn sheet of iron. The dwelling, isolated and distant from the nearby town, seemed to whisper secrets in the wind.
With Chara perched on her back, Marina descended gracefully, alighting two meters in front of the weathered wooden door.
Chara slipped from Marina's back and marched to the door, leaving the demoness standing guard. Raising her knuckles, Chara rapped on the door with a firm, resonant knock. "Kong! Kong! Kong!"
Her only answer was silence, a mocking whisper of wind. Undeterred, Chara repeated the pattern twice more, her patience growing thin.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Marina interjected, her voice tinged with doubt.
Before Chara could respond, the door swung open to reveal Orson, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"Chara?"
Before he could usher her inside, his eyes widened as he caught sight of Marina hovering just behind her. A look of fear flashed across his face as he instinctively stepped backwards.
"Foolish," Marina sneered. "Why would I be interested in you?"
"Don't be afraid," Chara reassured Orson, her voice calm and steady.
"I'm the one who wants to see you," Chara continued, her gaze firm and unwavering. Orson's fidgeting continued, his fear stubbornly clinging to him like a second skin.
"D-do you want to talk inside?" he stammered, his eyes darting between Chara and Marina.
"We didn't come all the way here to relax inside your kennel," Marina snarled, her voice cutting through the stillness of the air.
"We can just talk from here," Chara affirmed, her eyes never leaving Orson.
Orson's features twisted in apprehension, the tension of the moment palpable.
"Alright, g-give me a second, I'll be back.There's something I also wanted to show you," Orson stammered before retreating back into the house, closing the door behind him.
As the seconds ticked by, Chara's mind raced with questions and doubts, the silence stretching taut like a cord. Would Orson return with the answers she sought? Or was she about to discover something else?
Chara's reverie was shattered as the door creaked open, Orson emerging with a bunch of keys clutched in his left hand. "Can we talk as we head to the infirmary?" he asked, locking the door behind him.
"Sure," Chara replied, her gaze sharpening.
The trio began to move away from the house, Chara at the center with Orson on her left and Marina stalking alongside her on the right.
After a moment of silence, Chara broke the quiet. "There's something I need to confirm with you, Orson," she said, her voice firm and direct.
"I'll do my best if it's within my power," Orson replied, his gaze steady on Chara.
"Of course it is," she said, her stare unwavering.
A pained smile tugged at Orson's lips. "Alright, let's hear it."
"It's about my father," Chara began, her gaze fixed on Orson's face. Orson swallowed hard, his throat bobbing under Chara's scrutiny. She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle in the air. "That day, I wonder how he knew there was trouble brewing," she continued, her voice low and deliberate. "He had patients to take care of, so I doubt he would have returned home at that time. What happened that day, at work?"
Orson scratched his head and gazed out at the horizon, but Chara's steady gaze refused to yield. A long, drawn-out silence settled between them like a heavy fog.
Finally, he spoke. "That day, he arrived at the infirmary as early as usual. There was an emergency, so his arrival was perfectly timed. But, at the same moment, Castle servants also arrived. They demanded that he go with them at once—the prince was ill, they said. Your father, ever loyal to his patients, refused to abandon the sick person in his care. An argument ensued, but eventually, the servants relented, allowing him to tend to the patient before accompanying them. He managed to save the sick person, and afterward, he went with them to the castle... that's all I know," Orson finished, his voice faltering.
On the periphery, Marina's smile stretched into a malevolent grin as she shot a sidelong glance at Chara. "Mmh...didn't that man's son die?" she purred, her voice dripping with sinister.
"I-I don't know about that," Orson stammered, his face flushing with a combination of fear and confusion.
Chara heaved a heavy sigh, her gaze drifting away from Orson and towards the horizon.
"I see...that's okay," Chara said, a strange, joyous glint sparkling in her eyes. "The information you've provided is sufficient."
Orson flinched as he felt a cold sweat trickling down his spine. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting from Chara's smile to the inscrutable expression on Marina's face.
They had left the farms behind and were now winding their way through the town's bustling streets. Demons of various styles and statures carried out their daily business, mingling seamlessly with the human population. Some of the wealthy and noble humans, their loyalties malleable, had formed alliances with the demons and co-existed without trouble.
"Good afternoon, Lady Marina," several demons intoned as they caught sight of her, bowing their heads in a gesture of respect.
As they made their way through the crowded streets, a shrill, high-pitched voice sliced through the cacophony of the crowd. "What do you mean, money! You know it's not a necessity for me to eat vegetables. I could just as easily feed on your blood, can't you see I'm doing you a favour?" the voice cried out, its owner hidden from view.
Chara, Orson, and Marina turned to see a young male demon standing in front of a vegetable stand.
The woman behind the stand fidgeted nervously as she quickly gathered the vegetables the demon had requested, carefully wrapping them in a plain cloth sack. She handed the sack to the demon, keeping her distance as he snatched it up. Without another word, the demon disappeared around the corner, vanishing into the shadows of the crowded street.
"I thought your kind only survived on blood," Chara said, turning her head to Marina.
"Oh, we can survive without it," Marina replied, her smile stretching wider. "But we can't last long without blood—it's a luxury for us, you might say. Many of my kind can't go a single day without drinking it."
Orson shot a sidelong glance at Marina before fidgeting nervously.
Chara's curiosity piqued, she pressed on. "Are there any humans where you came from?"
"No humans, only livestock," Marina replied, a gleam in her eyes. "In fact, this place is the best—human blood is quite delicious."
Chara bristled at Marina's words, her voice taking on a sharp edge. "Don't look at me like that," she said, meeting Marina's gaze head-on.
As the trio reached the infirmary, Orson strode ahead and pushed open the heavy wooden doors, admitting them into the dimly lit interior. Sunlight streamed through cracks and holes in the ceiling, illuminating a thin layer of dust that had settled on the barren floor.
"Why is it so empty?" Chara asked, surveying the silent, desolate space.
"People stopped coming once the demons invaded," Orson replied, his eyes flicking towards Marina before quickly looking away.
He opened a door to an even darker room, the flickering shadows dancing eerily across the walls. "How are we supposed to see anything in here?" Marina grumbled, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light.
Moving with purpose, Orson went over to a desk and picked up a tinderbox. Striking the flint and steel against each other, he lit a lantern, casting a warm, flickering glow over the dusty shelves and cabinets that lined the walls.
The medical supplies that had once filled the room now sat, forgotten and gathering dust in the lantern light. Orson walked to the center of the room, lantern held aloft, and knelt down next to a square entrance in the floor. Producing a key from his pocket, he fumbled with the lock, the key scraping against the metal until it clicked into place. He lifted the wooden hatch, and a rush of cool, dank air rose up from the darkness below.
After standing up, Orson offered Chara the key. "This basement belonged to your father," he explained. "I thought it would be appropriate to show you and hand the key over to you. I assure you, I haven't touched anything inside."
Chara picked up the key, her brow furrowed with curiosity. Orson stepped back to allow her to pass, and she descended the wooden stairs into the musty darkness. Marina followed close behind, a silent shadow.
Chara held the lantern aloft, illuminating the book-lined shelves that filled the underground chamber. She trailed her free hand along the spines of the dusty tomes, pausing to pull out a particularly intriguing volume. She blew away the layer of dust that had accumulated on the cover, reading a few lines before replacing the book on the shelf.
Chara moved to another shelf, perusing the titles with a critical eye. "Medical treatises and autobiographies," she muttered to herself.
Marina, apparently curious, picked up a book and dusted it off, opening the cover to read. However, Chara snatched the book out of her hands and replaced it on the shelf. "I didn't give you permission to touch my father's belongings," she said, her voice firm.
Marina pouted, a wounded look on her face. "You're so mean," she said, her voice dripping with disappointment.
Chara ignored the comment, her mind focused on the task at hand. "Let's go back to the castle," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "There's something I must do."
And with that, she turned and headed back toward the wooden stairs that led back up to the infirmary, the lantern still clutched in her hand.