In the evening, far in the east beyond the Eastern Ranges, in one of the rice villages…
Falcon is kneeling on a veranda of a shrine dedicated to her Divine Embodiment, which was spared from the fiends' attack due to its central position deep within the village. He calmly watches the village perimeter over the scorched ruins, one hand upon his curving sword's hilt.
Creaak…
When he hears the wooden floor creak and footsteps approach, he simply ignores them and continues staring ahead.
「Master Falcon…」
The irritable serf from before calls out in an apologetic tone as he walks up with the other uninjured man. Falcon spares him only a quick glance.
「…Yes?」
He asks in a calm voice, sitting on his knees with his back perfectly straight, one hand on his sheathed sword.
「…I wanted to apologize. You saved our village and you're not the one to blame. I was just angry about everything… About my friends.」
The man explains with a low bow.
「I don't mind…」
Falcon replies bluntly while scanning the dark horizon with his gaze.
「…How are they?」
He asks, briefly glancing at the man.
「…It looks like they'll pull through.」
The formerly irate serf says, and glances at the other spearman standing by his side.
「Most of the wounded want to pick up right from where they've left off. We kept telling them it's a bad idea, but they won't hear any of it…」
The second man chimes in, taking a few steps closer to Falcon and watching the rice fields with him as he stands beside him, leaning slightly onto his spear.
「I see. It's a village of brave men.」
Falcon replies without as much as glancing at the man.
「…Or a village of idiots, Master Falcon. They can't fight fiends while wounded… Forget about being wounded, we can't fight fiends, and a wounded man is dead where he stands.」
The calm serf with a spear sighs, while the now-calm peasant joins Falcon's other side.
「No. The line between stupidity and bravery is thin, but very well defined. Those men had a taste of death and its bitterness didn't chase them away. That is clear-cut bravery.」
To the surprise of the spearmen, the swordsman replies with a gentle shake of his head.
「…You honor us, Master Falcon… But I still think they're just stupid. They want to prove that they're not scared, or something like that. I think it's alright to be scared. Who wouldn't be?」
The serf sighs again, smirking lightly while idly watching the darkening landscape ahead. The gentle hills in the distance quickly transform into tall mountains with nary a warning, and a thick grove of bamboo trees is growing far across the rice fields just before the hills. Insects cry out into the evening sky, ignorant or uncaring about the devastation that took place nearby.
「They're scared, and yet they are willing to fight… Another sign of bravery. It's a shame her Divine Embodiment's palace has no room for new retainers, you'd fit in there. Maybe one day.」
Falcon replies, still entirely focused on the space beyond the ruined buildings.
「Again, you honor us, Master Falcon…」
The spearman replies, and a prolonged silence begins while nocturnal animals slowly begin to wake and make themselves known in the hillside forests.
「…Do you think they'll come back, Master Falcon? Maybe it was a one-off attack-」
「They will… No, they have.」
Falcon declares as he stands up, alarming the spearmen. They clutch at their spears and look around in panic.
Swish.
The swordsman calmly unsheathes his sword and grasps it into his hands. He slashes, then a true fiend swings down from the roof above towards them and loses its head.
「Aah!」「Wahh!」
Thud.
The men scream in panic and recoil backwards into the shrine's wall as the demon's corpse drops limp on the veranda's floor, and its head rolls a few paces past one of them,leaving a trail of blood. Taking a step forward, Falcon calmly swipes his curving blade aside, shaking off most of the blood staining it. He looks over his armored shoulder with a completely unfazed expression.
「Assemble everyone at the shrine and defend it. I will handle everything outside…」
Falcon declares, and walks down the dirt road in the village. Two more fiends leap at him from the sides after hiding behind ruins, and both lose their horned heads with a single precise slash each, before either of them can swipe their claws at him. He shakes their blood off, leaving the mangled corpses behind as he continues onward. The peasants watching him finally unfreeze and run into the undamaged part of the village to alarm the rest.
Though he cannot be certain, Falcon notices something akin to a child briefly standing amidst the distant bamboo trees, but when he blinks and tries to take a proper look, the figure is already gone. His attention shifts to the horde of charging fiends that dash out of the nearby hillside forest. Despite appearing deceitfully human, the fiends run at him on all fours, alternating between leaping by their clawed hands and their feet. Their speed is very obviously inhuman, more like a galloping horse than a running man. Falcon turns to face them with only a focused gaze, and nary an expression on his face.
Swish. Swish. Sshwish.
One, two, three. He swings his sword, barely making any movements in the process. The nearest demons shift from their quadruped running to a bipedal sprint with their hands outstretched towards him. They run straight into his blade that's timed to perfection to receive their throats. Their pale bodies drop limp to the floor, while their heads roll past Falcon, bouncing off their horns like imperfect balls.
One of the demons with prominent horns slows down and points its claw at Falcon while the rest charges.
Swish. Swish-swish-swish. Swish. Swish-swish…
The entire frontmost group very quickly meets similar fate as the last, though a far more violent one as some of the demons attempted to grab hold of or block Falcon's sword, losing limbs along with their heads.
Another group runs in. Falcon's eyes quickly snap to the demon with large horns pierced by morbid, grotesque bone jewelry.
Swish. Swish-swish-swish.
Five seconds later, all but one of the fiends lose their heads with equal ease, all seemingly running straight into Falcons's blade at the most unfortunate moment to them. Though blocking and dodging the last demon's attacks, Falcon's eyes remain focused on the large-horned demon in the back of the horde while it's visibly muttering something.
「…Xaxanaxu xaranaxa!」
The fiend exclaims while pointing its pale clawed finger at Falcon, who leaps behind the demon he's fighting in close combat, placing it between the two of them. An arcing ball of light rapidly grows from the size of a pinhead to a fist in front of the demon's finger.
ZZZAP-BOOM!
A deafening, thunderous noise cuts like a razorblade through the dark, quiet sky. A perfectly straight bolt of lightning impacts the demon fighting Falcon, hitting it right in its pale, bony back. Its flesh vaporizes into charcoal dust with a blinding flash of light, leaving only behind black-marred bones. They collapse to the ground the next instant with nothing to support them. The fiends briefly suspend their mad charge and look at the demon mage in their ranks, who looks equally surprised by the result of its attack.
Retaining his completely expressionless face and focused gaze, Falcon takes the momentary confusion to press the advantage and charge in. He dashes towards the demon mage, sword at the ready. Realizing it's about to come under attack, it points at the fiends at its sides and yells something in an incomprehensible language completely alien to human understanding.
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Despite its language being completely undecipherable, its tone is clear. The demon is panicking, and sending its subordinates to die for its sake. They reluctantly oblige, but it's too late.
Swish-swish-swish!
The mage-fiend gives it its best effort to block the oncoming strikes, partially succeeding, though it loses its limbs in the process. With its last arm gone, the demon is defenseless, and Falcon cuts through its neck with a powerful horizontal slash. It shoots upwards while the pale body spews blood like a geyser, and before the head can drop down to the ground, Falcon catches it by one of its horns.
「…Do not ever again speak your foul language in the land protected by her Divine Embodiment.」
Falcon says with a stern tone towards the handful of remaining demons while presenting them the severed head of their apparent leader, remaining completely expressionless the entire time.
The tone of his voice and the gesture is universal to all languages, and the fiends seem to understand it as well. They slowly back away with Falcon matching them step for their hesitant step, until they turn around and retreat at full speed. He watches them flee for a few moments, ensuring that it's not merely repositioning, and when he's certain that the fiends are gone at least for tonight, he throws the head aside.
As he shakes the blood off of his sword, he looks towards the bamboo forest again. This time, he definitely catches a glimpse of a diminutive figure disappearing into the trees.
He furrows his brows as he sheathes his sword, then heads back to the shrine…
…
A few days later, in the early morning…
An old man arrives to the rice village. He swivels his head around, looking at the destroyed buildings while he walks deeper in with his walking staff lending him aid. A few moments later, he arrives at a large building with a ceramic tile roof in the center of the village. He casually slides the paper door aside and enters while taking his hood off his head.
「…Willow. What took you so long? I could have been here within 24 hours of you sending me a letter.」
Sitting at a low table, Falcon looks over his shoulder at the door while a woman pours tea into his mug.
「I'm an old man, Falcon. Try crossing the mountains this quick when you're my age…」
He walks up to the table and kneels down right across from him, setting his staff down.
「…Sorry, could I have some too?」
Willow asks the woman while pointing at Falcon's mug, gently smiling at her.
「Yes, of course. Give me just a moment.」
She bows and hastily walks away towards a paper doorway deeper in the shrine. The old man nods, and turns to Falcon.
「So? Looks like things took a turn for worse since the letter.」
Willow looks at the young swordsman across the table with a serious face. He returns a cold look.
「…It's mostly the same, no thanks to you, old man.」
「Yes, yes, I'm old and slow… Now how about you give me an idea what happened so far? Things look grim around here, and even worse outside…」
The old man remarks as he looks around the shrine. Wounded men covered in bloodstained bandages are resting all over, while distraught women are crying into each other's arms.
「…A few days ago there was a massive, organized fiend attack. They razed a few buildings, wounded most of the hastily assembled defenders, killed some.」
Falcon calmly replies with his arms crossed.
「Organized? What makes you say that?…」
Willow furrows his bushy brows. The woman returns with another ceramic mug, sets it down in front of him, and fill it with green-colored tea.
「…Thank you.」
The old man thanks the woman with a quiet voice, a polite smile, and a light nod of his head. She bows towards their table then leaves to tend to the wounded.
「…The fact that they're organized makes me say that. What else do you want me to say, old man? They're not a random group of demons that banded together.」
「They have a leader?」
Willow asks as he takes the mug and blows air onto his tea.
「Had… At least I think. I saw something strange. Maybe it's nothing, but I've been losing sleep over it.」
Falcon shrugs his armored shoulders, then takes a small sip from his mug.
「Something strange?…」
「Yeah. A little girl in the bamboo forest over there. It was dark and I might have been seeing things… Or it was just a little girl who really shouldn't be there…」
Falcon nods, then gestures his head towards the wall in general direction of the bamboo forest while staring into his mug.
「…I just have a bad feeling about this. Then again, if it was really important, her Divine Embodiment would probably say something.」
He adds, and takes a sip of his tea.
「…I think so too, but I don't think hunches should be ignored, especially if there's lives at stake.」
Willow nods, slowly drinking his tea as well. The two glance at the wounded for a few seconds before turning their eyes to each other.
「What about the attacks? Did they stop?」
「No. They keep coming every night, but…」
Falcon shakes his head as he crosses his arms again.
「But?…」
The old man's bushy brows rise quizzically.
「…They seem almost playful now? The first two were genuinely vicious, but now it's more like I'm being tested. The attacks come from all sorts of odd directions, and in small numbers.」
The young swordsman replies while rubbing his chin. He stares at his steaming tea with a focused, pensive gaze.
「So supposing the attacks are organized… The fiends' leader is just toying with you? Is that what you're saying?… Aw hot!…」
Willow asks and takes a large gulp of his tea. He winces immediately and sucks air in to cool his tongue off.
「Yeah. I kill them all with ease, but it's a lot of running. It's getting on my nerves… Mostly because of how the enemy seems ominously confident.」
Falcon nods, raising his eyes to the old man across the table.
「So they're still not close to being eradicated?」
「No, but I have a rough idea where they might be coming from. I want you to join me in a counter-attack tonight, Willow.」
The swordsman shakes his head and takes the mug into hand, taking slow, small sips.
「Nnhhyehhh… Straf Katastrof Vindict… You live another day, you bastard…」
Willow grumbles under his breath as he rubs his temple in frustration.
「What are you mumbling about, old man? Are you going to help me, or not?」
Falcon asks with his mouth aslant and brows gently furrowed.
「I'll help you, of course… It's just I have my own things to worry about as well.」
The old mage replies after a loud sigh. He shrugs his robed shoulder, then takes a cautious sip after profusely blowing air into the mug…
…
Around the same time, in Redwing Kingdom, in the magic workshop…
Straf is digging around in a sleek, slim, long white object with his screwdriver-like magic tool.
「Ah… Aaaah… Achoo!… Snifffff…」
With very little warning, he abruptly sneezes after a brief buildup.
「…Son of a bitch. I knew not getting autumn clothes would make me sick.」
He remarks while sniffling. He then shrugs his shoulders and continues working on his magic device…