A Dragon Idol's Reincarnation Tale

“So, Qaltil is dead and we failed the job.”

“Right, boss—Urgh …”

“… Well, at least you’re alive. Although missing an eye, a leg, and having your stomach nearly separated into three sections will surely take you out of the dance … Considering what they managed to destroy and obtain, it seemed this new Champion just won the high stake bet.”

Streiga mused at the sound of “high stake bet,” imagining what his conversation partner was speaking about. He thought back to the results of this siege, ruminating over the benefits his side had lost and what the other side had gained.

First was most definitely the feast of experience in the form of the 10000 grimgarian strong army, composed of a total of 20 rank Bs. The majority of the forces were killed during the fight, while the remaining were now being hunted down by Artorian reinforcements. All rank Bs were exterminated, donating their hard-earned levels to Hestia and her allies.

Second would be the death of Qaltil as well as the elimination of the two demonkins leading this operation. The complete defeat of a Warbringer, even. From what Streiga heard, the fact a teenage girl like Vifi’Yok was chosen as the next one just after the previous Warbringer died wasn’t a good sign. To him, it meant there weren’t any more capable, more experienced candidates. He believed it would be hard to replace her if she had died.

Lastly, there was the death of Karhalantheel at the hands of Melloxtressa. He had heard she was an SS rank dragon, but he hadn’t fully believed it. However, this new age SS rank not only slayed an ancient one, but she also managed to acquire his corpse. In addition, Streiga knew Melloxtressa escaped the dimension trap the demonkins set up, meaning the dragon empress had become a void-touched. If she used her newly aquired [Storage Magic], then the enemy had just acquired the body of an SS rank leviathan.

So many benefits were lost, and not a single win for Streiga’s employer. If they had managed to end the birth of a Champion of Yeostar, he probably would have called it a worthy price, but this mission was a complete disaster.

“Kuek hahaha …” Streiga shook his head, waving his lion mane around before he groaned and leaned against a cavern’s wall, somewhere east of Elyonda. He was elated; he and Qaltil had the foresight to establish a small hideout, in case they had needed somewhere to flee to.

He looked down at his right leg, massaging it as he thought of the person who cut it—Larent. The vengeful swordmaster had failed in getting his revenge, but managed to still cripple the leonid. He then moved his trembling hand up to his stomach, pulling up his tattered chainmail to reveal three puncture wounds.

He smirked, bumping his head against the wall three times in shame, before shivering a bit at the dangers of facing a well-trained Champion of the gods. Tehmrayn, although only ten levels lower than Streiga, had completely overwhelmed him. Sure, he had his allies, but the leonid wasn’t sure if he could have beaten the Plesia Champion even in a duel. He felt inadequate; exposed.

However, while he expected his two former opponents to prove a challenge, what angered the leonid even more was the wound on his left eye. Silver scales had lodged themselves into his skull and eye socket, while freezing ice had frozen off his fur and skin. He couldn’t feel anything.

Hahaha, dammit …

Yorshka and Shayatierus, two opponents far below his level, had managed to deal such a terrible wound on him. He would have beaten both if they were alone, but with the aid of Larent and Tehmrayn, those two managed to cripple him like this. Levels were important, but so were skills and equipment. There was a reason why the combination of Jobs, equipment, and technology could allow a human to surpass their limits and slay a monster far above their weight class.

They probably wouldn’t have killed him, but he still felt like he had severely underestimated his opponents. Was it the arrogance of age? Or was his “Ghorush” side showing itself after all these years? If that was the case, then he could only lament his stupidity. His past and history as a leonid warrior of Carmaniate had been sealed in the depths of his mind. He was now “Streiga,” the third boss of the Yanderu Eluseuss.

“Streiga.”

“Yes, Boss?” The leonid stopped his daydreaming and returned to look through the small dimensional rift, created by a space-time tool the Boss of the Yanderu had created. A manatech only a void-touched could have made.

“How did you survive? I had not expected them to show you mercy.” The person on the other side asked him in an aloof manner, although there was a hint of compassion hidden somewhere between those words.

“Haha … you know the effects of my Territory, right? [Lament of the Lion] recreates the steppe I used to live in with my wife, in which I stored the best golems I ever made. All the golems she created to defend her tribe, or, at least the ones she planned to use to defend them, were also in there as a memento. Well … it seemed even I didn’t know the extent of her creations.” Streiga brushed up his pelt, noticing his purple-colored skin. “… Twice. She saved me twice. She left her masterpiece behind just to save me.”

“… What kind of golem was it?”

“… My past self. She recreated my past self. A golem with its own intelligence. Not like the barely aware golem monsters in the wild, but an artificial creation able to think and reason with others. I had thought it was just like all the other golems, but who knew she managed to create something like that in the wasteland of the steppe?”

“… ‘Own intelligence?’ That is new. I heard the alchemists and golemancers of Aleistunum have been trying to create self-thinking gargoyles and golems for a while now, but who would have thought some random beastwoman from a random tribe in the middle of Carmaniate would have been the one to create the first of its kind. However, if she managed to create your past self, then it probably wouldn’t last long. Nothing personal, friend.”

“None taken. And, yes, you’re right. The thing didn’t last for too long, but the way it acted and moved felt real. I thought I was looking at my past self. Well, if it made me feel nostalgic, then it also could fool my enemies. I made my escape after sacrificing it.”

“Shame. What a waste.”

The two conversationalists fell silent. While Streiga reminisced on his past from before he joined the Yanderu, the person on the other side was wondering what all of this would lead into. He tapped his finger in a perfect rhythm over and over again as he began to predict the consequences of the events at Elyonda would have. What it would change in the stagnating Empire of Humans and the Kingdom of the Demonkins.

A never ending war between two races born of a religious conflict, going on and off just long enough to allow both sides to recover enough wealth and population to begin again. Of course, fatigue would build up over the hundreds of years of conflict, but it didn’t show any semblance of ending soon. Then again, a war such as this could only end when a weightsudden enough and heavy enough tipped the balance of the war's scales in an instant.

“Streiga, return back home. I’ll call in this job a failure and take the penalty from the demonkins. I’ll have Eithalr get ready to recruit two more bosses to replace the missing ones. I’ll get somebody to see after your wou—”

“What is with this letter?!”

And just then, the words of the Yanderu boss was interrupted by the sound of an opening door ramming against the war. The hidden face of the boss turned around from his desk, looking at his unwelcome intruder with a small smile.

“Welcome.”

Franz Akabane, also known as “Light” to the majority of people in the Empire, entered the office of the boss of the Yanderu Eleuseuss with a scowl, glaring at the smirking man with two sharp eyes. With every step he took into the room, the more his grey hair waved around, contrasting the veiled figure of the person in front of him.

The young boy from Earth pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pockets and slammed it on the desk. Two two stared at each other in silence, each waiting for other to break the awkwardness.

“You … I knew you were planning to use me when you sent your people to approach us, but from the look of it, it seemed you even lied about your goals. I looked into it. You didn’t tell me the timing and location of those demonkin assassins just to gain my trust. This was all part of their plans, right?”

“I never lied to you.”

“Bullshit!” Light clenched his fists, trying his hardest to stay composed before this man. “You told me your aim was to change the Empire. All the crimes you performed and all the lives you ended. They were all a means to a goal. I tolerated them because I needed an ally against the church and the emperor, but all of you Peolyncians are just here to use us like pawns. Was all that about the demonkins even true?”

“All of it. Aurena didn’t summon you into this world, the demonkins did with the help of the Edjurl gods,” The Yanderu boss answered, unperturbed by Light’s outrage. “Also, my goals have always remained the same. How I achieve them doesn’t matter. All that matters to history are the results. In this world, the results are all that matters.”

“You …!” Light scowled, biting his lips until they began to bleed. His rage filled his mind to the point he couldn’t control himself any further, but even if he punched the person right now, it would only hurt himself.

“You also seem to agree with me to an extent.”

“Tsk!”

“The church is controlled by the demonkins while the Folschreck Empire is being driven forward like a machine helmed by decrepit nobles only interested in their own advancement at the cost of everyone else. No justice can be found here, when commoners have to fear the prejudice and harsh judgement of the Lycerepth every day. When faith turns into zealousness, the bottom will rot.” The Boss then took the piece of parchment from the young man’s hand and began smoothing out the wrinkles. “You joined my faction because you couldn’t trust either side. You have no allies when you are stuck between two massive forces. You are no hero. You haven’t been the protagonist since the moment you were transported to this world. You and your classmates are doomed to be another means to win this war for the demonkins.”

“Kuek!” Light trembled, fully acknowledging the truth of the matter. No matter what he or his classmates had tried since they came to this world, it all failed.

Their attempts to escape Aureolis’s grand cathedral were thwarted multiple times by the clergy and holy knights. The cathedral's followers interrupted them the moment the summoned classmates tried to do anything, stopping them before any progress was made. Each time, a warning was given to scare them off.

Even now, after they came to the Folschreck Empire, they had thought they could gain some advantage, but with the church looming over every single step, they couldn’t move anywhere. Strength was a major factor in an adventurer’s and warrior’s survival, but none of the students had reached the level where they could contend against the monsters of this world.

They were simply weak.

The boss stood up from his seat and pointed at the young man, eyeing him intently. Light flinched back, just seconds before the boss continued his lecture. “That is why the results are important. Not the path towards it. What good is a creed when you cannot achieve victory? Would you howl and whine when your classmates are killed after you decided to play nice? What justice can you bring to this world if you break like fragile glass, Light?”

“…” Light looked down, clutching his head in pain as these words reminded him of his father. It felt like his nefarious father was whispering scoldings into his ears, demeaning his sense of self and ego. Light felt like his own personality was being pushed back in favor of the objectives of the person before him.

“You can’t do anything, Light. But with me on your side? You can do whatever you wish in this world, Light! You can change this world just like Goddess Chihiro!”

Light was an idealistic young man raised by Japan’s most ruthless prosecutor. He wanted to join the judiciary system in a different manner than his father, to bring proper justice despite the swamp his father had created. A corruption he had despised since childhood ever since he learned of his father’s abuse of his mother.

To his father, Franz was just a product to show-off to his friends and allies. A “hāfu,” a half Japanese. To Franz’s father, his son was nothing more than a novelty. A trend to seem international and trendy. What an achievement it would be if he could raise a “halfling” to the top of the judicial system, in a society with outdated values on foreigners.

The young man had hoped he could perform some good in this new world. His idealism clashed with what the majority of the class felt about killing other humans for survival. He wanted to judge bandits and thieves like a normal prosecutor, but this wasn’t something he could do in this world. Just like on Earth, however, he had no power against those more influential.

As such, he allied with the Yanderu Eluseuss behind his classmates’ backs. It was a chance meeting where he thought the boss shared his views, only to become disgusted when this organization showed its basement full of skeletons. He honestly thought he could make a change after he was declared a “Champion Candidate” by the Empire … but he soon learned all of this was part of the demonkin’s plan.

The truth of the Church of Aurena being controlled by the demonkins was a severe blow, but it was something he had already anticipated. However, hearing how he was being manipulated every step like a marionette only caused the young man to question his free will.

“And that is what I can, no, the Yanderu can give you, Light. You must use us like a weapon to build your own strength, preparing to throw us away the moment your goals have been achieved! Destroy the hypocrisy clouding your past.”

“What?!” He took a step back from the boss. “Are you telling me to betray you like that?! Are you insane?!”

“I told you already. All that matters are the RESULTS!” The boss raised his arms up, speaking like a preacher. “Change can only happen if you are willing to accept the trash of the world and throw them all out! Break down the foundation to replace it! If you aren’t willing to do the extreme, then you can’t expect anything to change. Compromises are left after everything else has been resolved. This war between Folschrek and Bole’Taria is evidence of it!”

“That still doesn’t make any sense! Why are you trying to build me up just to take you over? Eithalr had told me enough to make me understand your organization is more than just a few hopeful people trying to change their lives. You also harbor murderers, pyschopaths, and truly sick people! You aren’t anything different from the normal black mercenary company, you are just the same!”

“That’s the thing, though, the company itself isn’t anything special from the others. I don’t make it out to be.” The boss spoke in a nonchalant manner, accepting anything the young man had ready to throw at him. It was as if he had prepared in advance what to say. “I know we are criminals. Murderers. I bring pain to others by simply keeping this organization going. But that is the point I am trying to tell you! The funds, a place to train, and the proper people to control. I’ve gained it all. Through blood and sweat. Through every setback.”

He then reached out his hand to grab a glass chalice to pour wine in it. He then offered it to Light. “Now, I am willing to share the bounty. You took a sip. Why not take more?”

Light accepted the chalice after some hesitation, acknowledging he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t reject the allies he had made with this person. “… What is your end goal? Why are you working for both the Empire and demonkins? You said you wanted to end this war, but from the looks of it, you’re just prolonging it.”

“As I said from the beginning.” He sat back down on his seat, crossing his legs and leaning his head on one of his arms. “I want change. Whether it is to splinter the Empire into pieces or to destroy the demonkin’s only safe haven in this world. I don’t care how it will all end, I just want something to happen to further the evolution of this world. As such …”

He leaned forward.

“… I cannot become the flagbearer for the future. A vague goal is nothing more than an unsharpened blade. What I need is someone with ambition, ready to whet the blade sharp! To move me forward!”

“To become a puppet under your control.”

The boss shrugged. “What matters are the results. What you can gain from all of this. Don’t you want to return home? Don’t you want to leave something in this world to show that you existed? Take a sip. I am missing some underbosses.”

“…” Light looked at the wine in this dark room, unable to see his own reflection from the lack of light. As such, he closed his eyes. “That letter of yours; you sent it to me for a reason, right? I heard about that ‘Hestia’ girl from Ryuji and Eithalr.”

“Yes.”

“You know she’s an otherworlder, right?”

Light remembered the Berliners and pastries his best friend and right-hand man Ryuji gave him. Although they had gone bad from the trip, he still felt nostalgic when he bit into them. Light, just like Ryuji, quickly surmised that “Hestia” was without question an otherworlder after they learned the recipe came from her.

Also learning she was a dragon, they presumed this girl was similar to Goddess Chihiro, a Japanese woman born as a dwarf who later became known as the Revolution Queen. They didn’t know who Hestia actually was, but they knew they couldn’t exactly abandon this thread. Was she an ally or would she potentially become an enemy? To the desperate Light, he wanted to work and trust somebody who didn’t completely go against his morals.

However, with the letter he was presented, he had learned the demonkins had set a bounty on the girl. They wanted her dead. It almost reminded him how everything around him was not in his control. Even a potential ally would soon be snuffed out. Sure, she defeated Eithalr, but what about Streiga? What about the first and second underbosses of the Yanderu?

“Of course. However, Streiga just informed me the operation was a failure. The girl, apparently, survived and was one of the siege’s major contributors.”

“… What?” Astounded, Light opened his eyes, widening them up like a goldfish’s.

“Surprising, right? The demonkins wanted to kill her and her mother, but both survived. Instead, we lost our forces in a considerable manner. Sure, it wasn’t a decisive victory on their part, but Yeos managed to eke out a close victory through the participation of so many strong fighters. In hindsight, maybe trying to take out a dragon empress was a bit too overconfident of us. All of them should have been alive during the demon wars, after all.”

“…”

“So? What will you do? Light, tell me.”

“…” Light gulped, perturbed by how this man was carrying himself.

Anything he said today was quickly redirected towards him, demanding him to find an answer to counter. He felt as if he was a fish in a barrel.

“… Stop the bounty hunt, reject any further contracts against her. If you do, I will join your organization.”

“Ooooh? Aren’t you showing your cards this time?” The boss tilted his head, smirking through the darkness. “It’s clear how much you want her as an ally. Aren’t you afraid she might control you? Similar to how the saintesses and church are controlling that ‘Hero’ from your class? Don’t you already have a woman by your side?”

“I know full well Saintess Fleindia is only associating herself with me because the church wants to promote my image as a ‘Champion candidate.’ She might not have anything to do with them, but I know the demonkins are planning something with her. I won’t be like Takuma.”

“But are you not fully accepting my help? For what? To help out this dragon princess who probably can defend herself without your help? Aren’t you thinking of yourself too highly?” The boss cornered Light, causing the latter to stay silent. “Very well. I personally find it riskier to make an enemy out of Kargryx anyways. They are staying neutral for now, but what will happen if they begin to fly out? Ha! Then again, the death of their princess would certainly bring in this ‘scale tipper’ I dearly want.”

Light squinted his eyes, grimacing at how this man was already forming another plan. He had to stop it before his eyes grew brighter. “… Are you accepting my deal or not?”

“… As I said, very well. Hope you understand what this means, Light.”

“I do. I will have the contract finished in two days.” Light then turned around, done with his business here. As he was about to leave the room, he turned his head around for a second, before closing the door with a heavy fist.

“I shall await it. Have fun making friends with the girl.”

And in the darkness, the man smirked once again.

“…” Streiga watched all of this happen through the dimensional rift before saying goodbye to his boss. He leaned his head back on the wall, closing his eyes to contemplate on what his boss was now planning.

… Can’t think with these ice shards in my head.

Instead, he turned to his visitor. “Come out. I’m done.”

A young girl came out of the corner of the cave while caring for a man, stumbling into the cavern with the look of someone about to die. She looked exhausted, but more importantly, about to keel from arcane corruption.

“Hmm.” Streiga looked over her naked legs before raising her eyes to his huge shirt hiding her naked body, outside of three holes. Remnants of Tehmrayn’s attack. “Hmm, thought so. Couldn’t hide your legs.”

“Still, thanks,” the girl said before tripping onto the ground from her lack of focus, letting go of the unconscious man on her shoulders. She pushed herself back up and leaned against the wall. She placed a hand on her forehead, only to click her tongue at the heat coming from it.

“I thought you died, lass. Took you long enough to put that shirt on.”

The demonkin girl, Vifi’Yok, shrugged. “I thought about what happened. Couldn’t believe the two dragons who brought me down were two idiotic goodie-two-shoes. They really should have killed me … but, thanks. For rescuing me before I did something stupid in a moment of weakness.”

She couldn’t help but reminisce at what happened. She honestly had thought this was her last day on Peolynca, only to be surprised when she saw the crimson dragoness heal her.

Whether Vifi’Yok would have survived or not, Hestia had insured herself with the “honorable” side of the wrath demonkins. Demonkins were beings influenced by their demonic blood and emotions, fueled by the sin left behind as their birthright. It was hard for demonkins to overcome this legacy, and Hestia preyed on this fact by repeating “debt” and “owe” over and over during the surgery.

On the other hand, Fargryneill had made this debt more tangible when she almost accepted Hestia’s offer. To either be imprisoned or join her, to help Hestia learn more of the demonkins made Vifi’Yok weak as she always wanted to have a better life. What would have happened if she wasn’t born in some slum, all alone with nobody to care for her.

But, then, what would have happened if Hestia still would fight her homeland? Break her promise? What would happen if Lord Wrath came to avenge her? Would Vifi’Yok stay still and watch, or break through the prison cells holding her back? What if she began to like her new life away from battle? Could she force herself to run away?

Considering she had a fat headache right now, thinking about it any further made Vifi’Yok feel queasy. Regardless, it didn’t happen so that was a weight off her shoulders. Still … she was still worried about the fact she owed Hee’Rlak’s life to Hestia. The dragon girl was her enemy, but at the same time, she felt obligated by her blood to not forget this debt. Once again, the demonkin blood compelled her to do something she didn’t want to.

As such, Vifi’Yok had no choice.

“Still better than being tortured for information, right? They could have done that to you. Be grateful, kid, for surviving all of that and only losing an arm,” Streiga tried to brighten the girl’s mood, but Vifi’Yok wasn’t in the mood for something like that. Realizing this, the leonid nodded and asked her why she wanted after noticing the focus in her eyes.

“Hee’Rlak is alive. I need you to get him back to Bole’Taria and tell everybody I died.”

“… Pardon? Say that again? You want me to tell them what?”

“That I died today.”

“… KuhahaHAHAHAHA! Aren’t you a Warbringer, lass? Are you seriously deserting the army the moment you get a chance to do so? Kuhahaha, you have some guts!”

Vifi’Yok grimaced at his unexpected reaction, feeling even guiltier at what she was about to do. She had thought through the idea when Streiga saved her, fleeing from her deal with the two dragon princesses. Her conscience was telling her no, but her heart, the one she gained after her trip over to the “Twin-Elemental Lake,” told her to be free.

Vifi’Yok held pride for her country, even wanting to better the life of her fellow Wrath demonkins. Although she joined the army purely for survival, she still thought fondly of the people she had befriended there. In fact, to her, it was heaven compared to the wet streets she used to live in, scavenging for soggy bread and dirty meat, trying to sleep through ale-reeking drunks shouting like goblins through the night.

However, at the end of the day, Vifi’Yok wished for more. She was not picky; in fact, she liked eating hard, dry rations and sleeping on the ground, as long as she was dry and didn’t have to smell vomit. There was more to life than complaining. As long as she was full and alive, she wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

But, she couldn’t keep it all bottled in any further. She wanted to know more about the world. She wanted to continue eating good food. She wanted her life to be filled with more than just battle and carnage, even if she had to betray everything she knew and everyone she befriended.

“Am I being greedy? I didn’t know my parents, you know.”

Understanding the demonkin idiom, Streiga shook his head. “You think one of your parents was a Gluttony or Greed demonkin? Ha, I dunno, kid. Seems more like you’re just acting your age, or like anybody else, really. Even adults can be like this.”

“You’re not gonna judge me?” Vifi’Yok raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear the leonid was playing along with a joke.

“Want me to? Because I used to be a soldier, too, before I took years off service after I was hurt in enemy territory. I didn’t report it to anybody, until I returned a few years later. I can sympathize. But I can act like a soldier and scold you—Uurgh! Kuragh!” Suddenly jerking from the pain caused by Tehmrayn’s attacks, Streiga coughed uncontrollably. Once he was done, he slammed his head lightly against the wall behind him. “You aren’t a kid, so don’t try to have me treat you like one, kid. Deserter, or not, I have no right to question somebody else’s choices. I am not a role model.”

“I see …”

Both stayed silent, simply taking in the situation they were currently in, until Streiga ended up speaking first. He tried to find some charcoal, but realized everything was wet. He couldn’t find any parchment or writing material, so instead, he used his catalyst to morph the ground into a golem.

“Why’d you want to leave?” he asked while he did so.

“Donuts,” she answered, causing the leonid to flinch in surprise, before letting out a burst of laughter. “I want some better bread, too. Soft, you know. Like the ones those noble humans eat. Some nice butter. Slices of meat and fresh, green orslagges as salad. Oh, a warm soup, too, would be nice. Something more creative than vegetable soup, though.”

“Pay?”

“This.” Vifi’yok then reached at her chest and mumbled a quiet chant, before her chest began to glow red. After a few seconds of wait, she pierced herself with her claws, pulling out a red crystal around the size of a finger.

“… Well, aren’t you generous. However, isn’t this considered treason?” Streiga smiled with interest.

The girl brushed some of the blood off her shirt before twirling the crystal in her hand. “The moment I decided to desert, I had already committed treason. If I don’t remove this, then Lord Wrath will surely find me. I’m going away. Far, far away, so I can’t allow him or the other Warbringers to track me. A small price to pay for freedom.”

“That is still a huge one to pay, though. Without it, you can’t use [Original Sin: Satanael], again. From the looks of it, it probably saved your life, right?”

A Prince of Sin differed from their prince candidates through the fact that they could use original sin abilities without severe burdens placed on their body. This was because only seven demonkins could become a prince of sin at once, each representing one of them.

However, Bole’Taria didn’t want the original sin powers to be reserved for them alone. In addition, to prepare the candidates, it was also necessary for them to get used to these powers so they would be ready to be deployed if necessary. As such, the demonkins invented these blood crystals of sin.

Each crystal granted the demonkin host an original sin ability, allowing them to use them, albeit, at a weaker efficiency than the original. In addition, each would place heavy strain upon the person if they overused them. Right now, Vifi’Yok was abandoning hers using the removal chant she learned after sneaking into the library of her adopted father.

“It sure did. Without Satanael, I would have 100% died to that crimson dragon. Her last attack was beyond belief, honestly.” Vifi’Yok grimaced as she felt the sheer terror of death as Hestia’s smashed her into the ground like a comet. “To prevent my death, Satanael sealed my ability to go M.E.P. In fact, I can’t go above 15% in any of my emotions. Essentially, I can’t conjure up anything more than my horns and tail. No elemental weapons.”

“Damn. So, you’re practically like a human now, huh? Hahaha, no even worse, since you’re missing an arm!”

“A human with more stats than a rank A human … but, yes,” she sighed, slightly annoyed as she clutched the stump where her left arm used to be. “Besides, even if I went back, I would be discharged since Satanael sealed my powers. In the worst case, they’ll harvest my organs for my red lightning. In the best case, I’ll be chained to House Yok as its heir. I’m not letting them treat me like that; I didn’t join the army to be used like a dirty rag.”

“Pessimistic, little street urchin?” Streiga raised an eyebrow, finding his information on the demonkins a bit outdated from the way Vifi’Yok explained her situation. At the very least, three of the current Princes of Sins wouldn’t agree to the extremist idea. “Why do you think so? I had a different impression.”

“As I said, in the best case, I would only be chained as an heir. Lord Wrath … I’m sure I will keep my life with him helping me. The new Lady Lust won’t let me die either. The thing is, it won’t get any better from there.” Vifi’Yok reminisced of her time in the home of her adoptive father, grimacing and sighing deeply. “… I am not used to opulence, you can say. I don’t want to be some ‘heir’ who can’t help out my fellow wrathies. I don’t care who my Lord Father is; the life of a noble isn’t for me. I didn’t fight, survive, and scavenge to end up like that.”

“… Poor little street rat. Not the best choice, but, well, you are still a kid. Wherever it’ll lead you, I hope you know the consequences will come to greet you one day.” Streiga wanted to scare her off, but, once again, he was reminded why youth was so frightening to him.

The conviction in Vifi’Yok’s eyes told him she knew exactly what she was getting herself into. It did make him remember the last moment before he came for her rescue—how she had almost accepted the hand of that Aurena Champion, Hestia. He wondered if that had anything to do with all of this … but he would keep this information to himself for now. If it was blackmail, then it hadn’t ripened yet.

“Heh, then you’ll need to get used to human society then, lass. Here.” Streiga picked up the golem he had made and nonchalantly threw it over to the girl, presenting to her a slate with his instructions. He grinned for a moment, before coughing up some blood. “Urk … Okay, there is a small town past the closest imperial port from here—Saltzwieder. I have a former subordinate there who retired from the organization and opened up an orphanage. Give him the slate, he’ll give you what you need to survive. Some coins, clothes, a weapon, and also some education.”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? Bole’Taria is completely different from Folschreck or the rest of Altrust. The damn propaganda education you got in the military won’t help. I listened to them!” Streiga shouted, reminding her he was the one responsible for most of the intel for this operation. “Anyways, you need to know things. How the guilds work. Get yourself a proper ID with a false identity so you don’t get exposed. How to handle things without breaking a law. Things work differently here. I learned myself how cultures can differ.”

“… So you’re telling me to learn with those snot-nose brats he’s teaching at that place?”

“What? You’re parentless yourself, kid.”

“… Tehe. Guess you’re right. I do wonder what’s so special about providing urchins a place to live, though. Keep them off the streets, I guess.” Vifi’Yok then stood up and flicked the crystal into Streiga’s palms.

“Why not rest?”

“Nah … I wanna see it. Human society. Without the burdens of being a Warbringer. What’s it like?”

“I see … then, good luck. Keep yourself safe. You saw that giant thunder spell shock the leviathan, right? Pretty sure that’s the archerudite of Aleistunum and his floating home.”

With that, Vifi’Yok left the cavern and Hee’Rlak in Streiga’s care. She had her destination and also a chance for a new life. With [Original Sin: Satanael] sealing her demon powers and elemental weapons, all the girl had left was her red lightning and the skills she had developed over the years.

However, for the sake of her disguise, she had to seal off her Voltaic Red abilities to keep herself hidden. She had to adapt to her new life. In a way where she would never ever meet another demonkin or a member or ally of Aurora. The demonkin Vifi’Yok would stop “existing” from today onwards.

“… I wonder where I should go afterwards? Should get out of the Empire if I want to stay hidden. Maybe I should try Carmaniate? The dwarves?”

She clutched her left shoulder, feeling the phantom pain of clutching her left hand. She felt like she was back at the bottom after all these years. Like a little rat, trying to escape the eyes of all the enemies surrounding her.

A part of her yearned to return to her home, to the people she liked—the safe haven she had worked for, but another side, the one that kept her alive all this time, made it clear her return won’t be easy. She had failed twice already, and this operation was important. Was becoming a traitor and deserter the correct choice, here?

She wasn’t sure, but she knew well enough how valuable her red lightning was for the military. Her survival instincts told her going back would only be a detriment to her. In that case, living on the streets sounded safer.

She then turned her head around, looking in the distance where she had fought her enemies. Her left shoulder ached once again. She couldn’t get the image of the four women who defeated her out of her mind. Not to mention, the naive idea of their crimson dragon …

Stupid girl … She couldn’t help but call Hestia, although not in a hostile manner. A part of her wished for her home, no, her former home to find peace. It was just … impossible. She felt ashamed she was almost swayed by the girl’s words.

“I am an idol, and I have a responsibility not to make you cry, but to make you laugh. Make you smile! Make you dream of hope and a better life. That is my passion, that is what I want to do! Call me naive if you want, but that is how I want this war to end! No more death …” Vifi’Yok recalled those words clearly.

Whatever. Just get outta here. I have a new future to worry about, so, goodbye, dragon. You won’t see me again.

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