Asuma couldn't comprehend what he was witnessing. Demons, creatures that thrived on chaos and destruction, now kneeling before him. Their glowing eyes and monstrous forms radiated malice, yet their subservience felt eerily genuine. Was it some ploy to lull them into a false sense of security? He couldn't tell, but the questions swirling in his mind were relentless.
Prince of Mercy. Why are they calling me that? Asuma thought. The title felt foreign and heavy, its meaning shrouded in mystery.
Leon leaned in, his voice low and uneasy. "Why are they calling you a prince? And why the hell are they kneeling?"
"I don't know," Asuma admitted, his voice just as quiet.
Amira glanced at him, her expression both confused and skeptical. "Are you sure you're not some kind of demon prince?" she asked, her tone half-serious.
Asuma frowned, his voice steady. "I'm not. I'm as confused as you are. For now, let's just play along. We might be able to use this to find Rona."
Leon muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated. "Play along? There are so many questions I want to ask right now."
"Idiot," Amira hissed, glaring at him. "We'll ask later. For now, do what he says."
Leon sighed, relenting. "Fine. Let's play along."
Asuma turned to the horned demon before them, trying to keep his voice calm and measured. "What's your name?"
The demon tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "I am Larka, a disciple of the Great Demon Manola."
Manola. So that's the dryad's name. Asuma thought, filing away the information.
"We'll take you to her," Larka continued. "She is conducting her research within the Great Tree."
Amira leaned closer to Asuma, her voice barely a whisper. "That's probably where they're keeping Rona."
Asuma nodded subtly, then addressed Larka. "Take us there."
Larka gave a small bow, his lime-green eyes glinting. "As you wish, my prince. Follow me."
The trio followed Larka out of the castle and into the heart of Bagon City. The once-bustling trade hub had been utterly transformed, swallowed by the demon's magic. Buildings were choked with vines, their windows shattered and overgrown with creeping plants. Streets that once teemed with merchants and travelers were now unrecognizable, covered in dense grass and flowers as though centuries of nature's growth had been compressed into days.
All around them, demons prowled. They were grotesque, humanoid creatures, their bodies a twisted mix of wood, vines, and flesh. Their eyes burned with primal hunger, and their movements were disjointed, like marionettes controlled by invisible strings.
"There are so many demons here," Amira muttered, her grip tightening on her spear as her eyes darted around.
The demons glared at the trio, their glowing eyes filled with malice. Some snarled and snapped, their grotesque mouths dripping with sap-like fluid. They seemed moments away from pouncing, barely restrained.
Before they could act, Larka waved a dismissive hand, his voice sharp and commanding. "Silence, you lowly creatures! How dare you snarl at Lady Manola's guests?"
At his words, the demons recoiled, their snarls turning into low, guttural growls as they shrank back. The air around Larka bristled with authority, and the creatures reluctantly obeyed, slinking away into the shadows.
Asuma watched the exchange carefully, his thoughts racing. Does he hate his own kind? Or is this something else?
The group pressed on, winding through the corrupted streets of Bagon. The city's eerie stillness was broken only by the occasional rustle of vines or the distant howls of demons. Asuma kept his focus on Larka, studying his every movement and word, searching for any clues.
Larka spoke without looking back. "Lady Manola will be pleased to see you, my prince. She has awaited this day for a long time."
Asuma's stomach churned at the implication. "Why does she want to see me?" he asked, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his chest.
Larka turned slightly, his expression unreadable. "She will explain everything herself. It is not my place to speak of it."
Leon leaned in toward Asuma, his voice barely audible. "What if this Manola thinks you're someone else? A real prince of mercy or something?"
"Then I'll play that role until we find Rona," Asuma whispered back. "We don't have any other choice."
Amira glanced at the endless horde of demons prowling the city. "If they find out you're not who they think you are…" she trailed off, the consequences too horrifying to put into words.
"We won't let it come to that," Asuma replied firmly.
The Great Oak Tree stood at the very heart of Bagon City, its massive trunk dwarfing the surrounding forest that had overtaken the urban ruins. The air around the tree felt alive, humming with a faint, unnatural energy. At the tree's base, two colossal tree-like figures, resembling humanoid sentinels, loomed over the path leading inside. Their bark-covered bodies were gnarled and ancient, and each held a great swords the size of a man, the edges jagged as if meant to cleave through anything in their way.
Leon's eyes narrowed as he analyzed the towering creatures, his envision spell flickering to life. "These things are rank 3," he whispered, his tone laced with unease. "And they're just the guards?"
The sentinels turned their heads slightly, their glowing eyes following the trio as they passed, their presence a constant, silent warning. No attack came, but their menacing posture was enough to set the group on edge.
The trio followed Larka down the path to the tree's base, which opened into an unexpected sight: a lush garden, sprawling with vibrant, exotic flowers that seemed to shimmer under the strange light filtering through the branches above.
Amira paused, her sharp gaze scanning the flora. "These flowers… they're not native to the Azel Empire," she muttered, crouching to inspect a particularly vibrant bloom. "I recognize some of these—they're so rare that traders would kill for them. What are they doing here?"
Leon shrugged, though his voice carried a nervous edge. "A demon dryad having a garden? Guess even monsters have hobbies."
Asuma remained silent, his thoughts occupied by the unsettling harmony of beauty and death surrounding the tree.
The tree's entrance was a vast, open cavity, its smooth walls stretching upward like the ribs of a great beast. Inside, the group was greeted by a sight eerily similar to the garden outside. More flowers, glowing mushrooms, and trailing vines decorated the hollow trunk. But at the center of it all was an impossibly tall spiral staircase, carved directly into the wood, winding endlessly upward into the unknown.
Leon groaned, his head tilting back to try to follow the staircase's ascent. "Don't tell me we have to climb that."
Before Asuma could reply, Larka turned to address him, his tone suddenly formal. "My prince, you alone may ascend. Your human servants will remain here."
Amira bristled, gripping her spear tightly. "Why can't we all go up together?"
Larka's expression darkened slightly, though he maintained a calm demeanor. "Mistress Manola despises humans. Even as your companions, their presence would sully her sanctuary. Their lives are insignificant to her."
Leon glared at the demon. "Insignificant? You—"
Asuma raised a hand, cutting Leon off before he could escalate the situation. "Larka, can I speak with my companions for a moment?"
Larka bowed slightly, stepping back. "Of course, my prince. Take your time."
Asuma pulled Amira and Leon aside, his voice low but firm. "If I refuse to go alone, Larka will get suspicious. If they think we're lying, this whole plan will fall apart."
Leon shook his head, his frustration evident. "You can't go up there alone. What if something goes wrong? What if—?"
Amira interrupted, her voice tense but controlled. "He's right, Asuma. Uncle Rona is important to me, but so are you. If those demons realize you're not the prince they're expecting, they'll kill you on the spot."
"I know the risks," Asuma said, his tone unwavering. "But we don't have another option."
Amira hesitated, then asked, "Are you sure you're not… who they think you are? The Prince of Mercy?"
Asuma took a deep breath, his gaze distant as he recalled the events in Vermis Village. "I don't know. When Camellia trapped us in her Blood River, I saw… someone. A woman in the void. She called me the Prince of Mercy, just like Larka is doing now. She spoke to me like I was someone important, someone… missing from this world. I thought it was just a hallucination, but…"
"But what?" Amira pressed.
"But she stabbed me," Asuma continued, his voice growing quieter. "And something erupted inside me. My magic changed. I was able to fight Camellia on equal footing. Whatever happened back there, it's somehow connected to this."
Amira's expression softened, though worry still clouded her eyes. "You should have told us."
"I didn't understand it myself," Asuma admitted. "I'm still trying to figure out what it all means. But I feel like this is the only way to get answers."
Leon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. But if you die up there, I'm dragging your ghost back so I can yell at you."
Asuma chuckled lightly, his tension easing just a fraction. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Amira gave him a small, forced smile. "Just promise us one thing—don't do anything stupid. Find out what you need to know, and come back to us alive."
"I promise," Asuma said, his voice steady. "While I'm gone, try to get as much information as you can from Larka. See if he knows where they're keeping the magic users."
Amira and Leon nodded. "We'll hold things down here," Leon said. "Be careful."
Asuma turned back to Larka, his resolve firm. "I'm ready. Take me to your mistress."
Larka's lips curled into a faint smile. "As you wish, my prince."
The demon gestured toward the towering staircase, its endless spiral disappearing into the tree's shadowed heights. Asuma stared up at it, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. Each step would take him closer to the answers he sought—and closer to the monster waiting for him at the top.