Sera shook her head as she saw a cloud of flies manifest in front of her. The tiny, buzzing insects coalesced, gradually forming into Zoha's familiar form. The demoness appeared wracked with convulsions, body shuddering violently as she coughed up purple blood.

Zoha crawled toward Sera weakly. Her trembling fingers grasped weakly at the elder dryad's feet, the touch barely perceptible through the blood on her hands.

Sera stepped back and shot the demoness a disdainful expression. "You should have known that this was going to happen."

"Please, forgive me, Mistress."

"That depends. Have you come to grasp the futility of opposing me?"

Zoha nodded frantically, tears mixing with the blood on her face. "Yes, yes, I have."

"If that's true, then be honest with me. Who were you meeting in order to tamper with the contract?"

"I… was meeting up with my brother, he's knowledgeable in magic."

Sera's eyes narrowed, her suspicion deepening as she scrutinized Zoha. "Where is he?"

Zoha's gaze flickered with fear, her eyes widening as she realized the gravity of the question. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged.

Seeing this, Sera clenched her hand into a fist. Instantly, Zoha screamed, the sound raw and piercing as her body convulsed violently.

"Tell me where your brother is. You can't hide the truth forever."

The demoness's screams echoed through the room. Her body convulsed violently, gasping for breath between the screams, her eyes pleading for a mercy that Sera had no intention of granting.

In the next few seconds, Zoha's screams grew louder, yet she still refused to answer. Her defiance shone through despite the agony etched across her face.

Sera channeled the power of the contract to inflict more pain on Zoha. The demoness’s screams became even more agonized, echoing off the walls.

"You can't protect him forever. The pain will only get worse."

But despite the increasing torment, Zoha's lips remained tightly sealed. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood that dripped from her chin, but she refused to utter a word about her brother's location.

After a moment, Sera released her grip and eased the tension in her hands. The demoness's screams subsided into ragged breaths, though her body kept trembling from the ordeal. Zoha's brother is important enough to her that she isn't willing to disclose his location. Pressing her further would likely prove fruitless, I should utilize a different approach.

Sera stepped forward and approached Zoha. She gently helped the demoness onto the bed, her touch almost tender despite the recent display of power.

Zoha's breathing was shallow and uneven. She looked up at Sera, confused. "Why... are you helping me?"

Sera shook her head, a cold smile playing on her lips. "Because I want to, that is all."

"With all due respect, Mistress, am I not presenting a risk towards you? I had just tried to break our contract and refused to say anything about my brother."

While everything that Zoha said was true, Sera thought carefully about what she was going to say next. Demons are many things, but they all respect strength. I'll use this chance to make the gap in our power more apparent.

"To be quite frank, I find your attempt to break free adorable, Zoha."

"Adorable?"

"Your attempts to break the contract are like a bird trying to fly out of its cage. It's endearing, really. The effort is commendable, even if ultimately futile."

Zoha initially frowned as she processed Sera's words. Yet, she soon tilted her head slightly, the movement causing a few strands of her hair to fall across her face. "Mistress, are you not going to punish me?"

Sera shook her head. "There is no point in punishing you for something which is in your nature. I understand your desire for freedom, but you must realize that this contract is not something you can break even if I gave you a hundred years to do so."

"I don't understand why you're letting me off so easily," Zoha said.

Sera's expression remained calm, though her thoughts whirred internally. She knew that ruling through fear and punishment could only take her so far. Punishing Zoha might temporarily subdue her, but it wouldn't foster the loyalty or trust Sera desired. If I show leniency towards Zoha now, it may plant the seeds of a more genuine allegiance in the future. But if worse comes to worse, then I will simply remove her.

"You don't need to understand, but only to listen to my instructions."

Zoha nodded slowly, but her eyes remained skeptical. "I… understand, Mistress. But I need to know, are you planning to punish me more severely later?"

Sera sighed, weighing her words carefully. "To be perfectly candid, Zoha, as long as you heed my orders and refrain from obstructing my plans in the future, I am willing to overlook your actions for now."

She paused, letting the words sink in. "However, consider this your final warning. If you defy me again, I will not be so lenient."

Zoha's eyes widened slightly, but nodded in understanding. "Understood, Mistress. Thank you for your leniency."

"Good, if nothing else, we should return to the slums again in a few hours."

***

The moment Sera and Zoha stepped foot in the slums, a wave of people surged forward, their desperate energy palpable. Faces etched with hunger and hope pushed towards them, creating a human tide that almost completely surrounded them.

Zoha moved through the crowd with practiced ease, slipping through the gaps between bodies while Sera followed closely behind. The crowd pressed in tighter, hands reaching out to graze the fabric of her cloak as if hoping that mere contact might transfer some of her power to them.

They finally settled in front of a run-down building with cracked windows and a door barely clung to its hinges. Sera took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle on her shoulders. She steadied herself, fingers tingling with the familiar warmth of her magic as she prepared to heal while Zoha stood beside her.

One by one, Sera healed the sick and injured. Her magic flowed effortlessly, closing wounds, mending bones, and easing pain. Each person she touched expressed their gratitude in their own way: some with curt nods, others with whispered thanks, and a few even pressed spare coins into her hands.

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The crowd fell silent and parted away as a group of men marched forward. Their leader, a tall man with a scar running down his left cheek, took center stage. His cold eyes scanned the crowd before settling on Sera with a piercing glare.

"This woman is a fraud!" he shouted.

Sera, far from intimidated, found herself amused by the bold proclamation. A smirk played on her lips as she met the leader's gaze. "Do you have any evidence to support your claim?"

The leader gestured to his men, who stepped aside to reveal a small, three-legged dog. The poor creature's eyes were wide with fear, and its fur was matted with dirt and dried blood. "A real prophetess should have no problem restoring this animal to full health."

Sera's eyes softened as she looked at the dog. "I agree, step away from the dog, and I will do what needs to be done."

The men exchanged glances initially. However, at a nod from their leader, they reluctantly stepped back, giving Sera the space she needed. She knelt beside the dog before gently brushing its head.

The dog's three-legged condition appeared to be some form of congenital deformity, something it had lived with since birth. Yet, the fresh wounds were undoubtedly inflicted by humans, likely the very men now watching her with narrowed eyes.

Sera drew on her magic, feeling it flow through her like a river of warmth and light. She directed the energy towards the dog's injuries.

The crowd held its breath as a soft glow enveloped the dog.. Tiny sparks of light danced along its wounds, stitching together torn flesh and sealing away pain.

Then, where there had been only three legs, a faint outline appeared. The crowd watched, transfixed, as the outline solidified, muscle and bone weaving together, then, fur sprouted, matching seamlessly with the rest of the dog's coat.

Gasps of astonishment erupted from the onlookers as the dog's new leg was now fully formed, completely indistinguishable from the others. It stood tentatively at first, testing its newfound balance. But after it got used to its new leg, the dog jumped around in joyous circles.

The dog's tail wagged furiously as it ran straight to Sera, leaping up to her with great eagerness as it licked her face over and over again. Sera's face softened, eyes crinkling at the corners as she gently stroked its head.

The men who had interrupted Sera earlier became flustered as the crowd erupted into cheers. However, their leader remained stoic. He coughed into his hand and barked out, "Everyone, shut up!"

The crowd's cheers faltered into a tense silence. The leader gestured to his men, who disappeared briefly before returning, flanking a familiar figure draped in rich purple robes.

"This," the leader announced, "is the prophet of Zephiro."

The prophet stepped forward, his presence exuding an aura of arrogance. "I am not impressed, such parlor tricks may fool the simple-minded, but they hold no sway over me."

Sera chuckled softly, with both amusement and disdain. Her eyes glittered with a cold, calculating light as she regarded the scene before her. She let the dog go, its fur brushing against her fingers as it scampered away.

Then, she leaned towards Zoha, lips barely moving as she whispered, "Remove them immediately."

Zoha nodded imperceptibly and slipped away into the crowd. Meanwhile, Sera turned her attention back to the false prophet. "I've already proven my abilities, what say you?"

The false prophet sneered and opened his mouth to retort, but his words were cut short as a tiny, dark fly landed on his cheek. He swatted at it absently, unaware of how several other dark flies landed on the necks of the men who had interrupted Sera before.

Suddenly, the men dropped to the ground, one by one. Their confident postures crumbled as they clutched at their throats. The crowd gasped as they watched the men collapse, writhing on the dirty ground. The dark flies then took off into the air, disappearing as swiftly as they had appeared.

The prophet of Zephiro's face turned ashen, his eyes widening in fear as he watched his followers fall. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own robes. "What...what is this?"

Sera stepped forward and stopped just in front of him. "This is what happens when one goes against a prophetess of the Goddess Yssara."

As Sera's words echoed the prophet gasped and clutched at his throat. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees before collapsing completely. The crowd watched in stunned horror as the prophet's life ebbed away, his body convulsing briefly before going still.

Sera saw her chance and took it. "Behold the fate of false prophets! They have been smitten by the divine wrath of Goddess Yssara!"

The moment she finished speaking, the crowd's fear quickly transformed into fervent belief. Their murmurs grew into shouts of devotion as they looked at her with newfound reverence. Just a little bit more.

She raised her hands in an effort to further command their attention. "Who among you are true believers in Goddess Yssara? Who wishes to receive more of her blessings?"

Hands shot up, voices crying out in eager response. The energy of the crowd was electric.

Sera let the fervor build and allowed the energy to peak, before raising her hand for silence. "And who among you is ready to follow me on a journey to the promised land?"

"I am ready!" shouted a young man at the front.

"Take me with you, Sera!" cried a woman, clutching a tattered shawl to her chest.

More people from the crowd surged forward. Each person reached out, hands extended towards Sera with their fingers trembling. Sera smiled, feeling the fervent energy of the crowd washing over her. Perhaps I may have overdone things just a little bit.

Zoha soon re-emerged from the crowd. She slipped to Sera’s side, her presence barely noticed by the throng of adoring followers. Leaning in close, she whispered, "What is our next step, Mistress?"

Sera’s eyes scanned the fervent crowd. "We need to separate the most fervent believers from the rest. Those who are truly devoted will follow us without hesitation."

"How can I help?"

"Just watch over the humans for now and make sure we receive no more interruptions."

"Duly noted."

Sera raised her hands to call for silence. The crowd quickly obeyed, eyes fixed on her. "Followers of Goddess Yssara, we will now identify those among you who are the most devoted. Please form a line and come forward one by one."

The crowd shuffled into a semblance of order. Their fervor undiminished as they awaited Sera’s next command.

Sera stood at the head of the line. With a calculated smile, she decided to test their devotion with a series of increasingly ridiculous tasks. This will weed out those who still have doubts.

"To prove your devotion I ask each of you to perform a task. Only those who complete them without question will be chosen."

She started by assigning simple tasks, watching closely as the followers knelt to recite prayers to Yssara or shared personal stories of faith. But as the day wore on, the tasks grew more absurd.

Sera’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she asked them to balance objects on their heads, hop on one foot, and even sing certain songs backward. She observed each attempt, noting the lengths they were willing to go to prove themselves worthy.

To her surprise, only a few people left during the odd tasks she set out. Most of the humans stayed throughout the entirety of her nonsensical trials. At one point, a man wobbled precariously with a stack of wooden planks teetering on his head while a woman sang a hymn in reverse in a shaky voice.

Zoha, who was standing off to the side, watched the spectacle with growing confusion. It was visibly evident that the absurdity of the tasks baffled the demoness.

During a brief pause, she approached Sera discreetly. "Pardon my curiosity, Mistress, but what is the point of these tasks?"

"The point is to find those who will do everything I ask without question. The smart ones have all left long ago, leaving me with the most desperate among them."

"I see, which means the humans who are left probably won't bat an eye if you ask them to follow you into the dungeon."

"Precisely."

The trials continued for a few more hours. Sera watched as the most fervent believers performed without hesitation, their devotion shining through their actions. Slowly but surely, the group was whittled down to around sixty of the most devout.

Finally, Sera addressed the selected group, her voice gentle but commanding. "You, the chosen ones, have proven your devotion to Goddess Yssara. Your faith is unwavering, and your hearts are pure. I ask you now to wait for me at a specified location. Tomorrow, I will return here, and we will embark on a sacred journey together."

As the chosen followers dispersed to await the appointed time, Sera turned to Zoha. They walked away from the crowd, the soft murmur of voices fading behind them.

"Do you know a way to transport all of these humans? Because I'd rather not have to walk them to the dungeon" Sera asked.

Zoha thought for a moment before speaking. "There is one person who might be able to help us with transporting these humans, Mistress."

Sera raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. "Oh? And who might that be?"

"Countess Ivris," Zoha said.

"A countess? Why would someone of her status assist us?"

"Countess Ivris is a special case, Mistress. She has experienced certain... circumstances that align with our goals. With your abilities, I am confident she will be more than willing to come through for us."