Ethan Aurellia's perspective
The bell rang cold and sharp through the trees, cracking the stillness like a blade drawn in fog.
I blinked against the early morning haze, breath curling upward in pale coils. The snow hadn't stopped overnight—just softened—blanketing our boots and tents in a thin crust that crunched as the soldiers stirred. Packs rustled. Cloaks snapped. Fires sputtered low as the camp came to life with half-frozen limbs and gritted teeth.
Second day.
Most were groggy. Stiff. A few whispered about the bears. Others joked, as always, to distract from the weight pressing behind their eyes.
Then we looked up.
And there she was again.
Alliyana stood suspended in the sky, the early sun painting her silhouette in fractured gold. The lattice of hexagonal light beneath her feet shimmered like frozen glass—barely visible, barely real. Still, she held herself like she belonged there, as if the sky was merely a step between thoughts.
Barrier specialists were rare. Not because the magic was flashy or impossible—but because it was thankless. Tactical, not glorious. A lifetime of training to make walls and walkways instead of firestorms. Most mages wanted to be admired, feared. Not useful.
But watching her stand there—above us, weightless, unshaken—was impressive. Even I had to admit that.
"All recruits," she called down. "Assemble by your hunting groups. Line up."
The soldiers moved without hesitation, falling into familiar formations. Ban and Alexa flanked me silently, their breath still ragged with sleep.
Alliyana's voice rang again—measured, not loud.
"There will be a change of plan."
She hovered forward, light shifting beneath her steps like water.
"Starting today, we'll be operating in tri-party formations instead of two. Groups One, Two, and Three—unify. Four, Five, and Six—same."
There were a few exchanged glances. I narrowed my eyes.
"You're to remain near the eastern shoreline. No one moves northwest."
That drew murmurs. Confusion.
The western ridges had heavier terrain, but that's where the real work was.
"From now through the next three days, stay near the water and return before sundown."
Something about her voice had changed. Not her tone—still calm—but the way her eyes shifted. Focused. Concerned.
And if she was concerned…
I glanced toward Ban and Alexa.
"You ever seen her like this?" I whispered.
Alexa shook her head slowly. "No. And this wasn't the original protocol either. Group Three and Four were meant to rotate west. This new setup's—too easy."
Too easy meant something was wrong.
Alliyana lowered herself slowly to the ground, boots crunching into snow like a feather landing on ice. Soldiers murmured again as she approached.
"I will be leaving the camp for a few days."
Now the murmurs grew louder. A few turned to each other outright. Ban's brow furrowed.
I stepped forward slightly. "Why?"
She didn't answer right away.
"I've never seen demonic bears act like they did yesterday," she said. "Grouping in large numbers is one thing. But the way they moved… the way they fought…"
She trailed off.
"It was organized. Purposeful."
A beat of silence.
"They were being controlled."
The words hit harder than they should have. No embellishment. No theatrics. Just stated—like weather.
"Controlled?" someone asked.
"Possibly," she said. "I don't mean to alarm anyone. But this may be the presence of a high demon. One with enough power to influence beasts. Potentially even humans."
That made the camp go quiet.
The kind of quiet where you hear frost settling between pine needles.
"The presence I felt yesterday came from the northwest toward the Northern Post. But when I woke up, it was gone. That's why I delayed."
I froze.
Northern Post.
That's where Halric was stationed. Where my father would be.
"I'll take care of it."
"No," I said immediately, stepping forward. "Let me come with you. The others can manage the shoreline."
She looked at me, expression unreadable.
"I can't risk the heir," she said. "You're strong, Ethan—but you don't have experience against high demons. Especially not ones that might be mimicking divine abilities."
A soldier scoffed behind me. "High demons are the job of paladins. Everyone knows that."
"They are," Alliyana agreed. "But we don't have one. It's too late to summon help."
Another voice, sharper this time: "Then why are you so confident you'll come back?"
Alliyana just smiled.
No words. Just a smile.
And somehow, that was enough.
The questions stopped.
"If the veterans fall," she continued, "the duchy is at risk. The guards from the capital can't defend against a full breach. You're safest here. Stay sharp. Work together. And stay alive."
She paused.
"I believe in you."
That pause before she said it—it hit harder than anything else she'd said today.
I stepped forward again. "Let me come with you."
Her gaze hardened. "No. Stand down. The Duke assigned me to keep the new recruits safe. Especially you."
That stung.
Especially me?
I clenched my jaw. My fists. Babysat by the girl I had just started to admire.
She turned, calm as ever.
"You're dismissed."
We marched. Alexa leaned over.
"You didn't mean that, did you?"
I stared straight ahead.
"Of course not."
A few hours had passed since I left the shoreline.
The trees thickened with each mile—taller, older, their trunks dusted with frost and moss. Wind moved through them like a whisper. Not enough to chill. Just enough to remind us we were alone.
I glanced over my shoulder, then stopped walking.
"…Why are you two following me?"
Alexa shrugged as if I'd asked something obvious. "You're going to do something reckless. I figured you'd get yourself killed before even finding her."
I frowned. "So you came to get yourselves killed too?"
Ban, of course, said nothing.
Alexa just raised an eyebrow. "I'm not letting the most stubborn guy in the duchy wander off to get gutted alone. Besides, you don't know these woods."
"I don't," I admitted. "And neither do you."
"No," she agreed. "But that makes three of us."
I wanted to argue—but couldn't.
They weren't seasoned. But they weren't ordinary, either. I'd seen them fight. Ban, especially. He moved like someone who'd been taught to kill quickly and efficiently—not through strength, but certainty. And that sword of his...
I glanced at the weapon sheathed at his side—longer than a short blade, slightly curved, with a simple black handle and a faint glint of oil along the edge.
"You," I said, pointing toward him. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
Ban looked up, blinking as if surprised I'd spoken.
Then, without a word, he pulled the sword from its sheath.
It whispered free—no ring, no flair. Just motion.
"It's called a katana," he said, voice low and flat. "I trained with the heir of the Sato Duchy. Me and a few others were handpicked to guard the household."
I blinked. "You're Sato-trained?"
He nodded once, slipping the blade back in place.
"Then what are you doing here?"
"The heir told me to head north. Said I wasn't finished yet."
I raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like special treatment. What—are you the strongest of them?"
Ban smiled faintly but didn't answer.
So that was a yes.
I turned to Alexa. "What about you? Where'd you learn to fight like that? You were fast with a spear yesterday."
She laughed. "My dad. That's all."
I waited. Nothing more.
"That's it?" I asked. "No secret order? No royal training?"
"Nope," she said casually. "Born and raised in Aurellia. Lived here my whole life."
That surprised me more than it should have.
She glanced at me, then added, "Though… my dad's a royal guard in the capital."
I stared at her.
She shrugged again. "Taught me how to use a spear when I was six. Told me to aim for the throat and keep my feet apart."
"Of course," I muttered.
I looked at them—Ban with his Sato technique, Alexa with royal guard heritage.
I let out a slow breath.
"…A formidable hunting party indeed."
Ban smirked. We kept walking.
"Do either of you use real magic?" I asked. "Beyond basic ice magic for heat regulation or body enhancement?"
Alexa shook her head. "Just Flicker."
She snapped her fingers once and a tiny spark flared at her glove's edge. Ban nodded in agreement.
I wasn't surprised. Mages were rare in Auresta, even more so outside the capital. Most combatants relied on physical strength and discipline. The more extravagant casting came from Zepharim. Or the Elves.
I glanced up at the sky—grey and distant, clouds thinning as we ascended.
The forest thinned slightly as the ridge ahead began to climb. The snow deepened.
We kept walking. No one spoke. But the silence was… comfortable.
It was getting dark.
The canopy above had thickened, blotting out the pale light that remained. What little sun filtered through the trees came in slivers—dim gold laced through branches heavy with frost. The wind had stilled, but the silence felt heavier with every step.
We were deeper into the forest now. A few more hours, maybe less, and we'd reach the edge of the veteran patrol zone.
Everyone was tired.
The terrain had grown steeper, and the incline forced a slower pace. Even Ban's steps had shortened.
"We'll stop here," I said, breaking the quiet. "Catch our breath. Eat something."
Ban exhaled and sank onto a fallen log, brushing snow from its surface. Alexa dropped her pack beside a tree and stretched her arms overhead.
"I didn't bring rations," Ban said matter-of-factly.
"Same," Alexa added. "Didn't think I'd be on a death march today."
I crouched near my own pack, untying the flap and pulling out a wrapped cut of meat—dark, tough, and vaguely oily. Even sealed in cloth, the smell was faintly metallic. Earthy. Wrong, if you didn't know better.
"Eat this," I said, offering it to them. "I brought enough."
Alexa raised an eyebrow. Ban just looked at me like I'd handed him a cold brick.
"It's from the bears," I clarified. "Alliyana does it all the time. I tried it yesterday. Didn't die."
"You sure?" Alexa said, taking it reluctantly. "You look a little pale."
"That's just my face," I muttered.
Ban sniffed the meat and winced. "I'll be in trouble if the Sato family finds out."
"You're not supposed to write them about it," I said.
"Their daughter's a paladin," he murmured. "And they take divine law seriously. She hasn't been the same since she got sent up here."
I turned toward him. "Wait. The paladin who saved Alliyana?"
He nodded slowly. "That's her. Alana."
I blinked.
"…It might've been Alliyana that saved my mistress." Ban gave a tired shrug.
"That's what I heard before I left Auresta. Word going around was that it wasn't the paladin who saved her—it was the other way around."
Alexa took a bite and chewed slowly, her expression unreadable. Then she smirked.
"I'd believe it," she said. "At this point? Yeah. I'd believe it."
I looked down at the fireless meal in my hand. The meat was dense, slightly rubbery from the cold.
Of course it was true.
The only thing surprising would be if she'd needed saving at all.
"Don't forget," I said, glancing at them. "Simulate a fever. Ice magic—pull heat inward."
"Right," Alexa mumbled.
Ban closed his eyes, focusing. His breath visibly slowed as the mana in the air shifted slightly—barely noticeable, like a faint magnetic pull.
It was subtle. They've been in the north longer than me by now so heating up shouldn't be a problem.
We sat in silence, chewing the meat slowly, surrounded by trees that leaned like they were listening.
The air smelled faintly of moss, sweat, and blood-stained cloth. My legs ached. My knuckles were stiff from gripping my sword all day.
But beneath the fatigue, I felt something else.
They listened. They followed. They were learning. We were moving forward together.
We marched on after our break.
Alexa said we were close—less than an hour from the veteran camp.
The wind had died, but the forest still breathed around us. The trees stretched taller here, the air colder. Our boots left deep tracks in the softening snow, muffled and slow.
"It's been quiet," Ban muttered. "Too quiet."
I nodded. He wasn't wrong. Not a single beast. Not even birdsong.
Then we heard it.
A distant impact—metallic, quick. Then another. Something heavy shifting through brush. Without a word, we sprinted toward it.
We dropped low, ducking into a thicket of pines, heartbeats matching pace with the rustle of needles.
I peered through a gap in the branches.
At first, I only saw a figure.
A man. Humanoid. Standing in the clearing.
Then I looked up.
Alliyana hung in the air—limp, suspended by a barely visible thread. A single strand of light, taut around her neck, extending upward like a fishing line from hell.
I tensed to leap in—but Ban grabbed my arm. His eyes were wide. We were too late.
The man—the demon—spoke, voice cold and bored.
"Pathetic. They send a child to face me."
He tugged the string slightly, her body twitching in the air like a broken marionette.
"I'll cut the head first," he said. "Better that way."
I felt something twist in my gut. My hand drifted to my sword. But I hesitated. This wasn't like yesterday. This wasn't a beast.
There was no corruption radiating off him. No foul stench of rot or bile.
What I felt was... divine. Wrong, but divine. This was a high demon—one that mimicked divinity itself.
Then I saw it.
Alliyana, hanging mid-air, smiling. Not a strained smile. Not defiance.
Amusement. Looking down on him.
The demon pulled harder—but her head didn't tilt. The string remained taut.
She was resisting. No. It was barrier magic wrapped around her neck. That should be impossible. That geometry is too complex to maintain shape.
"You're struggling," her voice. Calm. Even.
The demon froze. His hand trembled. The thread shivered.
"What… are you?"
Alliyana's grin widened.
"Just a girl. The one that enjoys walks. The one who will kill you."
The demon laughed.
"You're no paladin. I'd sense it. No divinity in you. Nothing holy."
He stepped closer, tone smug.
"There are three of us. My brother's here too. He commands the same threads I do. Our leader—she can control those weaker than her. She'll control them like her pets."
He tilted his head.
"What's a little girl going to do against all of us?"
Alliyana didn't answer.
She dropped. Not fell. Dropped—clean and sudden.
The string around her neck snapped.
I blinked. So did the demon.
One moment she hung. The next, she stood on the ground, untouched, snow hissing beneath her boots.
She had sliced it—so fast even the demon hadn't seen it.
His eyes narrowed.
"...What are you?"
She said nothing. Just walked toward him.
The threads danced around her, glinting in the moonlight. He flicked his hands, dozens of strings darting forward—sharp, invisible blades designed to shred her limb from limb.
Alliyana moved once. A circular slash—clean, elegant.
Every thread in her radius snapped mid-air like old twine.
She lunged. The demon barely jumped back, a crimson line appearing across his neck. Not deep enough. But close.
I looked behind me. Alexa's face had gone pale. Ban's knuckles were white on his sword hilt.
But they weren't afraid. They were… excited.
I admit. So was I. I was rooting for her, but this wasn't the time.
The demon's tone changed. No longer casual.
"No human moves like that."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Are you a demon like us?"
Alliyana stopped.
"Enough talk," she said. "Show me everything. You won't survive otherwise."
The demon snarled. "Cocky brat."
He bit his lip, smeared his blood over his fingers, and flicked it into the strings. The threads glowed red, twisted, sharpened.
They lashed out.
She dodged—barely. One caught her shoulder and sent her flying.
She twisted mid-air, caught herself on a glowing hexagonal barrier, and landed upright.
Not a scratch on her.
"Impressive," she said. "Hardened blood to reinforce the weave. You're more clever than your face suggests."
The demon screamed and lunged, slicing through trees like grass. Trunks fell around us, cut clean.
I pulled Alexa and Ban down as branches exploded above our heads.
The clearing erupted in chaos. And still—she floated. Dodging, countering, redirecting.
The moon hung behind her like a crown.
Then a string caught the guard of her sword and knocked it from her hand. It spun in the air. The demon moved in for the kill.
Threads closed in—dozens of them—trapping her in a cage of sharpened death.
I froze. This was it. Then—shredded lines. The strings fell in pieces.
And the demon's body hit the snow.
I didn't even see her move.
The sword landed a moment later with a muted thud.
Alliyana stood still. Holding the demon's head by the hair.
Her arms were wrapped wrist to wrist in something dark—blades, sleek and curved, extending from the backs of her hands.
Black, metallic near the edge, but organic near the skin. They pulsed faintly, almost alive.
It wrapped around her like a second body—foreign, fluid, inhuman.
There was something deeply wrong about it.
Even I felt it.
"Come out," she said.
We stepped out of the brush, heads lowered.
We didn't need to say anything. She said nothing at first. Just looked at us—cold and unreadable.
Then she spoke.
"There's another ahead. The demon's brother. String user. Probably stronger than this one."
She paused.
"And a third. She can control minds. If she's already reached the soldiers, it may be too late."
Ban and Alexa said nothing. Neither did I.
Alliyana's eyes lingered on the sky. The horizon was black now, no hint of light. She exhaled.
"…It's too dark to send you back alone."
She didn't look thrilled.
"Stay behind me. Stay hidden. You can follow—but don't engage."
We followed Alliyana deeper into the trees, our steps muffled by snow and shadow.
The air had changed. Still cold, but heavier now—saturated, like something unseen was pressing down from above.
Alliyana raised a hand.
"Distance," she said. "Now."
We slowed our pace, spacing out behind her, moving in a staggered formation.
"Why?" Alexa whispered.
"In case one of us falls," I murmured back. "Or gets controlled."
We didn't ask further.
A few minutes passed in silence before Alexa leaned closer, her breath fogging in the air.
"…Ethan," she said. "Is Alliyana a demon?"
I blinked. "What?"
"Her arm," she said, pointing faintly. "It swallowed that demon. Then turned into blades."
Her voice lowered. "That wasn't magic. That was... alive."
I kept walking, but my jaw tightened.
"She's not radiating any demonic energy," I said. "It wasn't her."
"Then what?"
I sighed. "Her pet."
Alexa stared at me. "Her what?"
"Her slime," I muttered. "She keeps it in her satchel. Found it in the wild. The Duke approved it."
Ban finally spoke. "Black slime. Never seen one before."
Alexa looked to Ban, then back at me. "Slimes don't even come out in winter. They freeze to death."
"Yeah," I said. "That's the strange part."
Before either of them could respond, Alliyana surged forward—faster than before, a blur in the dimness.
She was running.
No warning.
Something was wrong.
We broke into a sprint behind her, struggling to keep pace. Branches clawed at my coat. My legs burned. The cold air tore through my lungs like knives.
We broke through the trees, fell to our knees behind a line of bushes.
And saw the battlefield.
The veteran camp had collapsed into chaos.
Clanging metal. Screams. The panic of men and women trained to face death—now facing each other.
Bodies littered the snow—some unconscious, others far worse. Armor bent. Swords snapped.
Halric was in the center, blood on his face, fighting desperately.
Beside him—
My father.
The Duke's blade clashed against a glinting thread of red light. His posture was controlled, but even from here, I could see the strain in his movements. A line of blood traced his jaw.
Opposite them stood another string user—taller, broader than the last. His threads danced like serpents in the air, slicing through snow and steel alike.
Soldiers surrounded them—half moving with purpose, the others flailing like puppets pulled by invisible hands.
Then—
A pulse.
It was subtle, but real.
I felt something ripple through the camp.
Almost half the soldiers froze. Blinked. Dropped their weapons.
The strings in their bodies loosened. They had regained control. The puppet master was gone.
No—she was being hunted.
Alliyana had found her.
"They've broken the link," Alexa said, stunned.
Ban gripped his sword, watching the soldiers still fighting, eyes glazed and vacant.
"They're still not all free."
"We help them," I said. "You two—hold down the controlled. Keep them from hurting each other. Distract them for as long as you can."
Alexa and Ban nodded, already moving.
I exhaled. Drew every ounce of strength into my legs.
Tensed.Then leapt.
My boots tore through snow and brush as I vaulted over the camp's edge. The air stung my face. My vision blurred with speed.
But I locked eyes with the string demon. And I didn't look away.
I focused everything into the swing, mana surged down my arms as flame ignited along my blade, just as it arced toward the demon's throat.
My grip faltered slightly mid-swing. Fatigue. I'd used too much on the leap. I clenched harder, forcing control back into my limbs.
The demon barely moved. A thread snapped taut and shifted him just out of range. The fire hissed past, catching the air where his neck had been.
I landed hard, knees buckling slightly before I found balance. My breath came ragged. Too fast.
I skidded beside Halric. The old captain was bleeding from his shoulder, panting heavily. His eyes barely focused on me.
The Duke turned. Eyes sharp beneath his helm.
"Why are you here?"
"Later," I said. "We need to finish him first."
Halric tried to move, but collapsed, gritting his teeth as his leg buckled beneath him.
"Fall back!" I shouted, reaching for him.
That's when it happened, a glimmer in the air. A flash.
I didn't see it. I felt it.
I was pushed sideways—barely. A thread grazed my cheek. A flash of pain, bright and sharp. Blood trickled down the side of my face.
If I'd been even a second slower—
"Eyes up!" the Duke barked. "Don't lose him!"
I turned.
The demon stood a few paces away, threads coiled lazily around his fingers. His grin was wide, teeth gleaming like ivory knives.
"Listen to your father, boy," he sneered. "He still has use for that head."
Then he flicked his wrists.
A fan of strings slashed through the air toward us.
We moved—he and I—blades raised in unison. Metal clanged as we intercepted the threads, sparks scattering into the snow.
But I knew it wasn't real. It felt... rehearsed. Meant to distract.
I glanced left—and saw it. His other arm, weaving low. Threads snaked around Halric, silent as breath.
"Halric!" I shouted.
But Ban was already there. He struck from the trees like a ghost, blade cutting upward. The threads recoiled—but not fast enough.
They missed the kill—but not entirely. A spray of blood hit the snow as Halric cried out.
His lower leg hit the ground beside him.
I flinched.
Ban caught him before he fell again, hoisting him up and vanishing back into cover.
The demon growled. He moved in for another swipe—more vicious, more direct.
But my father and I stepped in, intercepting his angle before it could land. The ground split with the force of the impact as our blades clashed.
My shoulder burned from the shock. I bit back a grunt. I couldn't show weakness here. Not now.
The demon reeled back, strings flickering around him.
The mockery was gone now.
"I'm done playing."
Blood oozed from his fingertips, coating the threads as he hardened them—sharpened them.
My chest tightened. My grip slipped again. My blade was too light in my hands. I forced myself to stay steady.
But before he could strike—
The soldiers around the camp collapsed. Not from injury. Freed.
The puppet strings slackened. The glow faded.
The demon's face twisted in rage.
"You—"
He snapped his arms outward, launching a storm of threads around us.
We moved without thinking.
Our swords cut through the net in tandem—my blade burning, my father's sheer force cleaving space.
When the threads fell, so had the demon.
Or so I thought.
I looked. Gone. I spun, scanning the trees. Gone. Panic surged. I couldn't lose track of him. Not now. Not when she was out there alone.
I tensed to chase.
"He's heading for her," I said. "Alliyana—"
The Duke's hand clamped down on my shoulder.
"Stand down."
I shook my head. "She's fighting the puppet master. She needs—"
"She doesn't."
His voice was calm. Not dismissive. Just… assured.
"She doesn't need us, Ethan. We'd only get in her way."
My breath caught. Not because I doubted him.
But because part of me still wanted to believe I was strong enough to matter.