Kael leaned forward in his chair, his curiosity far outweighing any lingering fear. “How do demons like that even get here? What’s their goal? Do they want to rule us or something?”

Rowan let out a low sigh, crossing his arms. “I don’t know everything,” he admitted. “But what I do know is that they aren’t here by accident. Each of them represents one of the Seven Sins—pride, wrath, envy, greed, lust, gluttony, sloth. They embody those traits, thrive on them, and... spread them. Like a disease.”

Kael furrowed his brow. “Spread them? How?”

Rowan’s gaze turned distant for a moment before he answered. “By amplifying those traits in people. By planting seeds of their sin and letting it grow. They turn us into something closer to them—horrible, twisted creatures, full of nothing but the sin they embody. They don’t want to rule us; they want to break us. Corrupt us.”

“Like parasites,” Kael murmured, his voice quiet but edged with disgust.

I stayed silent, Rowan’s words turning over in my mind. Parasites. It made sense. And I couldn’t ignore the truth in his theory.

The memory of Lucian crept up on me, his smooth voice praising my abilities, feeding my pride. The way it felt good to hear it, to think—even for a moment—that I really was as exceptional as he said. Then Mammonel... I thought about that endless, twisted smile and his taunts, the hunger he planted in me for the gold, the way I’d barely spared a thought for Bram and Lyara after their deaths.

It wasn’t just subtle; it was insidious.

I clenched my fists, the realization hitting harder than I wanted to admit. I had been horrible. To Bram, to Lyara, even to myself. All I’d cared about was the gold.

I swallowed hard, guilt twisting in my chest. The demons weren’t just dangerous because of their strength; they could warp you without you even noticing. They made you complicit in their destruction, turning you into something... worse.

“So,” Kael said, breaking the silence, “how do we stop that?”

Rowan’s voice was flat, but his answer was chilling. “You don’t let it take root. You fight it, every second, every moment. And you hope you’re strong enough to resist.”

I glanced down at my hands, my fingers brushing against my staff. Strong enough to resist. Maybe. But what if I wasn’t? What if, deep down, the demons already had their hooks in me?

Rowan’s voice was steady as he spoke. “But even without them—without the demons in this world—we still have those sins inside us. That’s the point. They’re part of who we are. The demons just amplify them, twisting us into something worse. That’s what I think they’re here for: to turn us against ourselves. To make us fall.”

I felt a chill run through me, the weight of his words sinking deep.

“That’s why,” Rowan continued, his tone hardening, “the best thing for us to do is to kill them. All of them.”

Kael, sitting beside me, looked down at his hands. “But they’re so strong,” he murmured. “I just brought down a dragon with my fists, and I couldn’t even scratch that thing. It was like punching a mountain.”

“Which means you have to be stronger,” I said, my voice firm.

Kael’s head shot up, his eyes meeting mine. For the first time since I’d met him, there was no humor or cheek in his expression—just raw determination. I gave him a small nod, one I hoped he’d read as encouragement.

Rowan, meanwhile, reached for the pack at his side. From it, he pulled a large pouch, heavy and bulging, and placed it on my lap with an audible thud.

“What’s this?” I asked, frowning.

“It’s from the villagers,” Rowan said simply. “After Mammonel was gone, I looked around and spoke to them. They didn’t know anything about the contract for the dragon. Whoever wrote it is long gone. But the people... they wanted to thank you. They gathered what they could. It’s not 10,000 gold, but it’s 5,000.”

I stared at the pouch, the weight of it on my lap heavier than just its contents.

“I won’t take it,” Rowan said, his voice softer now. “It’s yours.”

Before I could protest, he turned and left the room, his boots echoing softly against the floorboards.

Kael and I sat in silence for a moment. I stared at the pouch, unsure how to feel. It wasn’t what I expected, not after everything that had happened. Kael leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Well,” he said finally, breaking the silence with a wry smile. “Looks like you’re rich now.”

I picked up the pouch and held it out to Kael. “It’s all yours,” I said, my voice firm.

Kael blinked at me, stunned. “What? No way! You earned—”

I cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “Shut up. Just take it.”

He stared at me, his mouth slightly open, but I didn’t let him get another word in. “Look at me, Kael. I’m marked and hunted by demons. There’s no way I’ll get to enjoy a peaceful life. Retirement? Slacking off with a pile of gold? That’s not in the cards for me.” I sighed, feeling the weight of my own words. “I don’t have parents who need saving or curing. I’ve got no family waiting for me, except Roderick, and he’s already taken care of. I can fend for myself. I’ve done it this long. I’ll be fine.”

His eyes flicked between the pouch and my face, his protest dying in his throat.

“You need this more than I do,” I continued, pushing the pouch into his hands. “Take care of your mother. Open that training ground you were talking about. Build something for yourself, Kael. Live for more.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his fingers gripping the pouch tightly as if he didn’t know what to do with it. Then, without warning, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me. The hug was so tight, I swore he might break me in half, especially in my current state.

I let out a pained wheeze. “Okay, okay—ease up, kid. I’m still injured here.”

But I didn’t push him away. Despite the ache in my ribs, the hug felt warm, comforting, and oddly reassuring. It reminded me of Roderick in a way, back when we were kids and he’d hug me after a bad dream.

“Thank you,” Kael murmured, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

I patted his back awkwardly, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. “Just don’t waste it, okay?”

He pulled back, grinning at me with that familiar, youthful energy that seemed unshakable. “Never.”

Kael stayed close as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, bracing myself to stand. My muscles screamed in protest, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. Weak, tired—sure, but I’d had worse.

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He placed a steadying hand on my back, his warmth grounding me. “You good?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine,” I said, though the strain in my voice might have betrayed me. “Still weak, still tired, but not that bad. I can handle it.”

As I pushed myself to my feet, Kael shifted to support me, his arm hovering near my side in case I stumbled. His expression stayed glued to mine, worry etched into every line of his face.

“This also means we’re separating,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes.

“What?” His voice wavered, and his hand tensed against my back.

“I’m going to continue my journey,” I said firmly. “You’re going home, Kael. Take care of your mother. Take care of yourself.”

He stared at me, his mouth opening as if to argue, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, his gaze softened, resignation settling in. “You’re really going alone?”

I nodded, steadying myself with a deep breath. “With me, you’ll just be a target. I’m their target. Let it be me—no one else needs to get caught up in this.”

“But... can you handle them by yourself?” he asked, though his voice lacked its usual confidence.

“Of course,” I said, standing a little straighter. My body protested, but I ignored it. “Besides, I’ll be journeying with the best monster-hunter in the world. We’re both marked—it’s more efficient for us to work together.”

Kael was silent for a moment, staring down at the pouch I’d handed him earlier, his knuckles tight around it. When he finally looked back at me, there was no hesitation in his eyes—just pure determination. “I promise, Thalia. I’ll use this money for good. I’ll take care of my mom. And next time we meet, I’ll be a hundred times more powerful than I am now—so that I can take care of you, too.”

I smiled, leaning forward and brushing my lips against his forehead gently. “You already are.”

His face turned crimson, and for a second, he looked utterly flustered. It was adorable—so much so that I couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping. Before I could tease him, though, he started laughing himself, loud and genuine, and it filled the room with a warmth I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.

It felt comforting. It felt safe.

But as the laughter faded, I knew this was goodbye—for now.

The sun was just starting to rise as I stepped outside the small house. A faint orange glow touched the rooftops, and the air was still crisp, carrying with it the smell of dew-soaked grass. It wasn’t anything luxurious, just a villager’s home they’d kindly lent me for the night. But stepping out now, I could see the difference in the village—the way it felt alive.

Children were running and laughing, their bare feet kicking up dirt as they chased each other in the early morning light. People worked together, mending fences, hanging laundry, or tending to crops, their movements steady and relaxed. There was an ease in their faces, the kind that hadn’t been there yesterday. The dragon that had loomed over them like a shadow of death was gone now, and they were finally free of its terror.

In the distance, I spotted the dragon’s corpse—what was left of it, anyway. Large chunks of its flesh had been carved away, likely roasted over fires and turned into a feast. Dragon meat was rare, a delicacy few ever had the chance to try. I couldn’t blame them for celebrating, for making the most of it.

“Miss!” a small voice called out, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked down to see a child, no older than five, clutching a bright flower. She ran up to me, her little feet pattering against the dirt, and stretched her arms up to offer it.

“For you!” she said with a wide smile, and before I could respond, she tucked the flower behind my ear.

I crouched down to her level, smiling back. “Thank you, little one.”

“Thank you for saving us!” she said before darting off, her laughter trailing behind her as she joined the other children.

I straightened, adjusting the flower carefully. For a moment, I stood there, watching the village come alive, feeling something I hadn’t expected.

It felt good.

I wouldn’t lie to myself; I’d taken this job because of the gold. The promise of coin had always been my motivator. That’s why I got into this business—to survive, to keep food on the table, to build something for myself. But now, seeing this village free from its burden, its people smiling and safe… it was a reminder that what I did mattered.

The team’s hard work—Kael, Bram, Lyara, and even Rowan—had saved these people.

I let out a breath and adjusted the staff at my side. It wasn’t just about gold anymore, was it? At least, not entirely. What we’d done here wasn’t just a job.

It was something better.

Kael stepped out of the house, rubbing his eyes and yawning, his hair sticking up in every direction. He still looked half-asleep, but his lopsided grin was as bright as ever. “Morning,” he mumbled groggily, then paused, blinking as he took me in. “You look… nice with that flower.”

I blinked, caught off guard, and felt my cheeks flush. “Thank you,” I muttered, glancing away.

He stretched lazily, his body loosening from sleep, and then tilted his head toward the field. “Have you ever eaten dragon meat before?”

I shook my head. “Can’t say I have.”

His eyes widened like I’d just told him I’d never seen the sun. “What? You’re missing out! I had some yesterday—it’s amazing. No wonder everyone here’s so happy now.”

I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “Well, it’s good they’re enjoying themselves. They deserve it.”

Before Kael could reply, Rowan approached, his heavy boots crunching against the dirt. He was fully suited, his armor polished and his lance strapped securely across his back. Three little kids clung to him, hanging off his braids like they were climbing ropes, giggling as they swayed with his every step. He didn’t even seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t mind.

“So, are you ready?” he asked, his tone as steady and practical as ever.

I straightened, flexing my fingers around my staff. “I am. A whole day of rest was what I needed. My body feels good, my mana’s back to normal.” I smirked. “I feel like I could take on another dragon or two.”

Kael made a face. “Let’s not tempt fate, okay?”

Rowan raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for my signal.

“Just wait a moment,” I told him, grabbing Kael’s hand. He blinked in surprise but followed me as I led him toward the field near the dragon’s corpse.

There, standing proud among the grass, were two graves. True to their word, the villagers had buried Bram and Lyara with respect, marking their resting places with their hammer and staff, each weapon standing vigil over the grave it belonged to.

Kael kneeled without hesitation, bowing his head and closing his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but the way he folded his hands in prayer told me all I needed to know.

I stayed standing, unsure. I’d never been one for religion or ceremonies like this. But as I watched him, something tugged at me. Respect, perhaps, or guilt. Slowly, I closed my eyes, holding my staff tightly in both hands.

Thank you.

The words echoed in my mind, a silent thought I directed toward the two graves.

Thank you for everything. For your courage, your sacrifice. I got caught up in my own greed and my own thoughts, and I didn’t honor you the way I should have. I’m sorry for that. I hope you’ll forgive me… and bless the journey ahead.

I opened my eyes, letting out a quiet breath. Kael was still praying, his face soft and sincere.

A breeze swept through the field, carrying the faint scent of grass and dragon’s blood. The hammer and staff stood tall, weathered but strong, guarding the final resting places of two remarkable people.

“Thank you, Kael,” I said as we both rose from the graves, our quiet moment of respect concluded.

He nodded, a faint but understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew what this meant—our paths were diverging here.

“You better come back and visit me,” he said, his tone brightening as he spoke, though the underlying sadness was impossible to miss. “Each month or something! I’ll show you around my training ground, introduce you to my students. Oh, and you have to meet my mom—she’d love you, for sure!” His enthusiasm was uncontainable, even in this bittersweet moment.

I smiled faintly. “The road ahead is dangerous,” he continued, his voice softening now. “But you’re stronger than me—I know you can handle it. Just… keep in mind, okay? I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

Before I could respond, he stepped forward and wrapped me in a tight hug.

I didn’t let go for a long time. The warmth of his embrace, the sincerity in his actions—it was comforting in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. He was like a flame in the dark, bright and earnest. Eventually, though, Kael released me, stepping back with a deep sniffle. His eyes were red, his nose stuffed. He rubbed at both furiously, attempting to hide his tears, but it only made him look more like a teary, stubborn child.

It was almost funny, but I understood. If I wasn’t thirty years older than him and stubbornly clinging to my dignity, I might have cried too.

“See you, Kael,” I said simply, knowing there were no words to encapsulate the gratitude or the fondness I felt for this ridiculous, wonderful boy.

With that, I turned and walked back toward Rowan, who stood waiting near the edge of the field. He watched silently as I approached, his face as unreadable as ever.

Together, we would face the next adventure—the next challenge. The road ahead was perilous, but the world deserved a better future. One without demons.

And so, I left the village behind, the flower still tucked behind my ear.

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To be continued...