Ronn had woken up early, just as the first rays of light broke through the top of the window. He rose from the bed, still clad in his armor.

The Hero didn’t bother sleeping with his armor off. Even though the War had ended, old habits die hard.

The man used a small amount of fire-based magic to light a candle. He could practice magic, to a much smaller extent compared to Junil or Fraul, but it was incredibly convenient to know.

Under the candlelight and dim morning blue, he recorded the party’s expenses into a small notebook that he kept, using a charcoal pencil.

The man didn’t know how much time had passed, but the light outside the window had grown a little brighter. A rustling in Junil’s bed momentarily distracted him from his booklet.

“Did you sleep well?” Ronn asked. He kept his eyes on the booklet as he continued writing.

There was some more rustling, of Junil turning over in the covers.

Junil groaned. “No. I slept terribly. Maybe I would’ve slept better if you didn’t wake me up.”

The Hero’s eyes did not leave his little accounting booklet. “Did you not mention that the beds in these places are better?”

There was a pause as the still-sleepy Junil collected her thoughts.

“I did? Oh... yeah, last night I did. It was nice. But even though I’m exhausted, it doesn’t help me wake up feeling any... better.”

“I recommend bringing up a line of conversation,” Ronn replied. “That typically reinvigorates your mind, and encourages wakefulness.”

“Really?” Junil asked. “What should we talk about?”

“You may choose the subject.”

Junil was silent, and so was Ronn. They both remained silent until the Healer broke the silence.

“The Demonfolk name their weapons, right?”

“It is part of common Demonfolk military doctrine, yes.”

The silence between them started again. The only sounds that interrupted the silence were the tweeting of birds outside, and the scratching of Ronn’s pencil.

“Tilsy,” Junil said.

Ronn paused his writing. “Pardon?”

“Tilsy. That’s what I’d name my wand, if I was a member of the Demonfolk.”

The Hero took a moment to process that, then continued writing. “An interesting name. What is it derived from?”

Junil flicked her wand out of her sleeve pocket, and glanced at the light green tool. The gem embedded in the middle shimmered as the morning sun rays hit it.

“I don’t know. It just sounds like a cute name,” she said.

“A whimsical one. What of a name for your staff, though?”

“Huh? Oh, that staff. Hmm... Honestly, I wouldn’t name it.”

“You would not name your staff, too?”

Junil peered out from where she was under the sheets, to look at her magical staff. The tool, which was leaning against the bedside, looked like a much larger and more complex version of her wand.

“I prefer my wand over my staff,” the Healer replied. “If anything, I’d only use the wand.”

“Hm. That staff was expensive to custom order,” the Hero said.

“Don’t you guilt-trip me,” Junil retorted. “I never asked for it, but Fraul convinced you to get me one. Staves are used for magic over a large surface... which my healing is not.”

“Magic over a wide area is still important to learn,” Ronn replied. “Such as wide-area healing.”

“I didn’t say that wide area magic is useless. It has its applications, but... think about it,” Junil said. “Blanketing a battlefield of enemies in fireballs is spectacular and all, but burning up any surface that isn’t covered by enemies is wasted spell potential. Cast a wide area healing spell, and the space over that area which aren’t filled by soldiers looking for healing is wasted magic.”

Junil leaned back while sitting on the bed. “Either way, I prefer using a wand. More precise, more efficient... and not all injures are the same, you know.”

“I am aware,” Ronn replied.

He finished the last few strokes of his charcoal pencil on his booklet, and closed it. Using his armored fingers, the Hero snuffed out the candle by pinching the flame.

“Are you ready to depart, Junil? We shall be heading back to New Frontierland.”

“So soon?” the Healer asked.

“Yes. Please get out of bed, time is of the essence.”

“At least let us refresh ourselves... get something to eat, at least.”

“We can grab something on the way out. There is a bakery on the main street.”

Junil shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Both Hero and Healer gathered their belongings and stepped out of the room. They passed by the tavern portion of the inn, where a handful were being served breakfast. The two, having little time to sit down for a proper meal, walked by and out the front door.

Despite it being so early in the morning, a lot of Demonfolk were already up and around.

“Well, there’s the bakery,” Junil said. “And it smells like they make fresh bread. Unlike the ones in the city.”

“You dislike bakers in the city?”

“Maybe it’s just me,” the Healer replied. “But it seems they’re more likely to sell stale bread than the ones on the Frontier.”

“You seem to harbor a dislike for the cities.”

“Yes. I do. Which is why it’s a tragedy that New Frontierland is turning that way.”

Both Hero and Healer had stepped to the front of the bakery, where a short line had formed already. The one that seemed to be running the bakery, a middle-aged woman, was talking to one of the customers at the counter.

“—Don’t forget to eat it while it’s still Warm!” she exclaimed, while waving to the Demonfolk who was stepping away from the counter.

“Thank you!” the Demonfolk girl replied. Both Junil and Ronn watched as an apricot-haired Demonfolk girl stepped past the door. She waved back at the baker before strolling away.

“That’s the same Demonfolk girl that I ran into yesterday,” Ronn stated. “It seems that they are basing their labor operations out of this town.”

“You remember her?” Junil asked. “How? You bumped into her just once.”

“I have an excellent memory.”

Junil glanced up at the Hero.

“Of course you do,” she replied.

The two waited in the line for a handful of minutes, before purchasing their bread.

“Oh, are you two the Hero and Healer that I’ve been hearing a lot about?” the baker asked. “You were surveying this humble little town of ours, haven’t you?”

“Something like that,” Junil replied. “But we’ll be departing today.”

“So soon?” the baker lady asked. “Oh, why can’t you stay another day? We’re hospitable folk.”

“It relates to official business, unfortunately,” Ronn replied. “Your town is very pleasant, but we simply do not have the allocated time to remain here.”

“Still busy after the War, are you? Well, the rail line’s finally opening up in the town, you can depart through there,” the baker continued. “Do come again, though!”

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“It’s in the town?” Junil asked. “When Ronn and I got off of it yesterday, the track ended a good walk away from the town.”

“And the Demonfolk managed to put down that much rail in that little time, too!” said the baker. “It’s impressive, really. They woke up early to do it.”

Ronn nodded. “Thank you for the information. Junil, let us go. We must depart.”

The baker lady gave a goodbye wave to them. As both Hero and Healer walked through the town, it seemed that the local Demonfolk weren’t giving the Hero and Healer duo much mind; most seemed busy, carrying supplies and equipment.

“It’s very calm around here, I’m... honestly surprised,” Junil said. “I expected more...”

The Healer trailed off, but Ronn had in mind what she was looking to say.

“Tension?” he asked. “Indeed, the Human-Demonfolk relations in the Frontier towns tend to be much healthier than in the cities.”

“But why’s that?” Junil asked. “I’d imagine it’d be bad on the Frontier because there’s where all the fighting’s happened, right?”

Ronn grunted. “Relations are complicated. I have my own theories, but they are incomplete and may not be accurate.”

“Go ahead,” Junil replied. “We’ve got time, since we’re going for the rail line.”

The Hero nodded. “The theory stems from the idea of respect — that the respect Humans hold for the Demonfolk on the Frontier correlates to how much they fear the Demon Lord. Likewise, the lack of respect within the larger cities correlates to the lack of fear the residents have of the Demon Lord, as they have never witnessed or faced attacks by his armies.”

Junil had a finger up to her chin. “The fear part makes sense... but how does that correlate to respect? I mean, shouldn’t the Demonfolk be hated on the Frontier then?”

“The Humans and Demonfolk of the Frontier relate to each other very much. Both live off the land, both engage in hard labor... both were witness to the destruction in the War. As I’ve observed, the Frontier has a healthy respect and fear for the Demon Lord. That respect, in turn, transfers to the individual Demonfolk who were led by the Demon Lord.”

Junil frowned. “I get what you’re saying, it’s just... there can’t be all reconciliation, can there?”

“That is true, scars exist. But I’ve found that enemies who fought bitterly in the past are likely to befriend or, at minimal, tolerate each other when their desire for peace overcomes their spite.”

The pebbles on the dirt road crunched beneath Ronn and Junil’s feet as they neared the rail line’s station.

“Okay, but what do you say about the cities?” Junil asked.

Ronn was about to speak, but then the Healer looked forward and immediately interrupted him.

“There’s General Forge!” Junil exclaimed. She was pointing down the road.

Sure enough, a hurried General Forge was running — almost sprinting down the town’s main road. He, too, saw the Healer and Hero right ahead of him, and his feet almost skidded on the dirt as Junil stepped in front of him with her arms outstretched.

“What’s your deal?” General Forge asked, stopping in front of Junil. His thin tail flicked in annoyance.

“We just want to ask you something,” Junil said. She lowered her arms. “Mind sparing a minute?”

“Sorry, but I’m in a hurry right now, and you already talked to me last night,” he replied. General Forge side-stepped Junil and was about to make off, until he was stopped when Ronn’s armored hand proceeded to grab his arm.

Yet again.

The Demonfolk General stopped, and glared daggers at the Hero.

“General Forge, this question is important,” Ronn said. “You are unwilling to fulfill a simple request for the Hero?”

“You’re grabbing onto my arm right now,” the General replied. “I’m guessing that this won’t be an optional question.”

“No. I wished to be more polite, but this is urgent.”

General Forge kept his scowl, but replied. “Alright, go ahead. Shoot. I probably won’t have an answer for it anyway.”

“The Demon Lord’s sister. Are you aware of her whereabouts?”

General Forge’s eyes widened a tad. He opened his mouth, closed it. After just a second, he recomposed himself and said, “What? No. I guess I knew her, but I lost track of her after your forces invaded our capital.”

Ronn stared at General Forge.

“So, you know her. Do you mind informing us of her features?”

General Forge’s red eyes glistened, as the Hero stared into them intently.

“Look, you’re smart,” he replied. “You can probably figure out that she looks like her brother. Use your imagination.”

“That is not a sufficient answer,” Ronn said.

“Well, what do you want me to tell you? Her favorite food? The Demon Lord kept her under very close guard, and I didn’t even see her that much. Was more focused on the War than a single girl. Get off my arm.”

The Hero’s helmet concealed his face, but it couldn’t have been difficult to imagine a frown on his face right now. Despite this, the armored Hero released General Forge’s arm. He did not want a confrontation out in public.

General Forge proceeded to vacate the vicinity of the two. And, once he was out of earshot, Ronn spoke to Junil.

“I am very sure that he is lying. Or, at least, he is not telling the full truth.”

Junil huffed. “You should’ve called him out on it! Damn it, Ronn, this is why we can’t do our jobs!”

The Hero peered in the direction that General Forge ran.

“He has gone already. And I do not wish for an altercation in the middle of a town.”

Junil shook her head. “Whatever. But I still think we should’ve grilled him harder. If I could fight, I’d go after him.”

“I would highly advise against that, Miss Junil.”

“Of course, I have some degree of self-preservation. Also, sorry for interrupting you earlier. What were you going to say?”

The Hero tapped the front of his helmet. “I do not recall the question.”

“It was about why the people in the cities don’t respect the Demonfolk as much.”

Ronn nodded. “Yes. That is due to a multitude of reasons. Fear of the Demon Lord in the cities is certainly lesser when compared to the Frontier. This is mostly due to the fact that most of the cities had never faced a direct attack by the Demon Lord’s forces in the past. They do not have that fear associated with him.”

“...And without that fear,” Junil continued. “Comes the lack of respect for the Demonfolk themselves.”

“Precisely. New Frontierland had only faced probing attacks during the War. There was nearly a siege once, but the attacking force was thwarted before they could arrive. The Capital, too, was the most fortified emplacement during the War. The Demon Lord could not have hoped to attack it without massive losses, even if he had gathered the ships and material to do so.”

“But there’s something I still don’t get,” the Healer asked. “People in the cities don’t like the Demon Lord by any means, so I don’t get why they’re not scared of him.”

“Talking good of the Demon Lord in the cities will have you looked at in an unfavorable light. But tell me, Junil, how many times have you seen or heard drunk bar-goers in the cities cursing out guards and singing drunken praises to the Demon Lord when they were being dragged away for public intoxication?”

“...More than I can remember.”

“Indeed. That behavior, while frowned upon, is tolerated in the city. The Demon Lord’s name is not taken as a danger. There are even individuals who grant unfounded accusations of collusion with the Demon Lord to those they do not like. Doing so in the Frontier would be absolutely unacceptable.”

Junil sighed and rubbed her shoulder. “You’ve really thought a lot about this, haven’t you? How long did it take you to notice this?”

“Only recently,” Ronn said. “Namely, the treatment of Demonfolk indentured servants by our very own Sir Salkin. Although, that is in part because he is frequently inebriated. But the indentured servitude contract that we have offered to Demonfolk who served in the military is a point of contempt I worry about.”

The Healer glanced up at the Hero. “What do you mean? They work off a potential prison sentence in the form of labor, and have some degree of freedom. I don’t see how that’s an issue, considering they accepted it themselves.”

“The contract is fine,” Ronn replied. “But the connotations of it worry me. ‘Indentured servant’ has almost become synonymous with ‘Demonfolk’, even though some indentured servants are Human. And these naming habits will form a perception that Demonfolk are second-class citizens, due to their associations with indentured servitude.”

Junil had a slight grimace on her face. “I think you worry too much. Sure, that’s not... good, but what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Regardless, I feel a problem is brewing from that. This is not my area of expertise, however. These are simply my observations.”

The two finally reached the rail line’s station, right at the edge of the main street of the town. A crowd of people had gathered, clamoring to get tickets. There was a roughly even mix of both Demonfolk and Humans who were gathered to watch the steam-powered machine.

The station was rather rudimentary; a wooden platform that had been assembled together that same morning, by the Demonfolk laborers. There was space for a line to queue at the front, but it was both cordoned off with one of the train attendants.

It was a different train attendant from before... Well, the train attendant that tended to Junil and Ronn were the conductors, so it made sense the conductors would have hired someone else.

Ronn walked up.

“Hello, miss,” he said. “Would you happen to have any more seats available?”

The attendant glanced at him, rubbing her eyes, as though she couldn’t believe the Hero was in front of her. She quickly snapped out of it.

“I’m sorry, but we have no more seats,” she said to Ronn.

“If you are capable of accommodating us, we must reach New Frontierland due to important matters.”

“How... important is this?” the attendant asked.

“Very important.”

The attendant glanced over to the train, then back at Ronn. She leaned in and whispered her response.

“There’s one seat open. A passenger did not show up in time. However, there is only one seat available, so...”

The attendant looked back to the train. That was when Ronn spoke up.

“I am willing to stand instead,” the Hero said.

“Uh...” the attendant muttered. “Standing isn’t exactly safe.”

“I am resilient, so you should have little worry over that. I also have a very capable Healer, should there be any incident.”

“Hold up a second,” Junil said, butting in. “If you get hurt doing something reckless and entirely avoidable, Ronn, then the only things I’ll ‘heal’ you with are the leeches.”

“I have no plans on getting injured.”

“I know you won’t, but I’m putting this contract in word, with a witness, for obvious reasons.”

The attendant gave a nervous chuckle at the bickering between the two. “Aha... please don’t worry, the rail engine is a very safe method of transportation! Healer, you won’t need to expend any of your magic on this trip. I guarantee that.”

“I’m willing to take your word for it,” Junil said to the attendant. “Just making sure the Hero gets the memo, too.”

Ronn glanced down at the Healer, but did not reply to her.

“I am willing to stand on the trip back,” Ronn said to the attendant. “I am aware as to how to anchor my feet to the ground, so I will not fall over. Will that suffice?”

“That... can work,” the attendant replied. “But I’m only making this exception because you’re the Hero.”

“We have a deal, it sounds like.”

“So long as this doesn’t get me in trouble...” the attendant finished. “And, uh, if I may ask one question...”

“Go ahead,” Ronn said.

“Leeches?”

“...That is a long story.”