Ronn and Junil paid their fare, and the attendant proceeded to lead them onto the rail engine. Now that it was public, there were a lot of people in the carriages — it was indeed very full, with two people on the benches on either end of the aisle going down the middle.

“I’m sorry for the rather cramped space in here,” the train attendant apologized. “One of you will have to stand, which is typically against riding policy, but I shall make an exception as you are the Hero.”

“It is fine. While I am typically averse to safety risks, there is little harm in these temporary accommodations,” the Hero replied.

Ronn, who did not have a seat himself, simply stood in the aisle next to Junil. He had both of his hands to his side.

The Healer didn’t take much note of the person that was in the seat next to her — until she glanced over, and saw some very familiar orange-apricot colored hair.

The passenger in the window-side seat was the same Demonfolk from the bakery that morning, and the same one Ronn ran into on the rail line yesterday.

“Isn’t that the same Demonfolk girl we saw in the bakery?” Junil asked. She leaned over to the Hero, who looked down at the passenger next to Junil.

“It seems so, yes,” Ronn replied. “And she is the one I had run into when we first arrived at Grand Elm.”

Everyone on the rail engine lurched backwards. They could hear the hissing of steam as the carriages began to slowly move forward.

It seemed the Demonfolk girl next to them was getting excited. Her tail twitched in anticipation, as her apricot-colored eyes widened at the landscape moving out the window.

“It’s... interesting that we’ve run into her so many times. She seems friendly,” Junil said.

Ronn nodded. “Talk to her. You may make a new friend today.”

Junil scoffed, but she couldn’t lie to herself that she was mildly interested in a conversation with the Demonfolk girl. It’s just, Junil didn’t know how to approach her.

It only took thirty seconds for Ronn to figure that out about his Healer.

“You can strike up a casual conversation. Demonfolk are nothing to be afraid of in this day and age.”

“I’m still uneasy speaking to them...”

“I am right here. You are in no danger.”

Junil looked from Ronn to the Demonfolk girl.

“Fine,” she gasped.

Junil then scooted next to the Demonfolk girl. Her attention still appeared to be on the window outside. From this angle, the Healer could see that the girl’s orange hair was... scraggy, to say the least. It was somewhat long, but it seemed like she hadn’t had the most precise haircut.

That was, if it even had been cut at all.

“Uh, hello,” Junil said.

The girl’s head whipped around to look at Junil. Round, innocent eyes met Junil’s eyesight; a bright apricot-orange in color. They glimmered with curiosity, and right now the Demonfolk girl was directing that curiosity at the Healer.

Something about those eyes felt familiar.

“Hi,” Junil continued. “Do you... want to talk, maybe? What’s your name?”

“My name?” the Demonfolk girl asked. She took a moment to think about it, before grinning. “My name is Soll-ar!”

She then pointed her finger at Junil. “What is your name?”

Junil blinked. That conversation was... easier to start than she expected. Truth be told, she expected the Demonfolk girl to recognize her.

“Mine? It’s Junil. I’m the Healer of the Hero party.”

The Demonfolk girl blinked twice, then smiled. “Jun-ar! A Heal-ar of the... party? Right?”

“Yes, that’s... right.”

Junil was not the judgmental type. But, from the way this Sollar pronounced her words and her phrasing, Junil had a sneaking suspicion about something in particular.

“Is this your first time on the rail engine?” Junil asked.

“My first time, yes!” Sollar exclaimed. “Going on this rail thingy! It’s fast and I can see everything moving by so quick, it’s fun!”

The Healer figured it out. This Demonfolk girl, to put it simply, appeared to certainly be not the brightest of the Demonfolk.

She was a simpleton. That made Junil relax a little.

The Demonfolk girl peered out the window again and pressed her nose against the glass. Her breath began to fog up on the window.

“So...” Junil said. “Where are you going, Sollar? I know we’re going to New Frontierland, but do you plan on going elsewhere?”

Sollar’s gaze didn’t leave the landscape, but she continued speaking with Junil.

“I’m going to the Capital-place!” she proclaimed.

“You’re going to the Capital?”

“Yes!” Sollar replied.

Junil cocked her head. Was this Demonfolk girl an indentured servant? It wouldn’t make sense for her to be a traveling laborer... and she should’ve already had a job, considering that she had worked on the rail line earlier.

“What are you going there for?” Junil asked. “Work, I’m guessing? It’s a bit of a trip to travel if you’re just looking for work.”

Sollar glanced over at Junil. An infectious smile was plastered over the Demonfolk girl’s face.

“I’m going to meet my older brother!” Sollar exclaimed.

Junil, in turn, smiled. A family reunion; of course. She imagined that the Demonfolk indentured servants in the city would have relatives that meet from afar, since the servitude contracts typically didn’t allow for them to leave for a visit.

“Your brother? I see, he works at the Capital?”

Sollar’s expression of happiness was replaced by one of puzzlement. “Work? He doesn’t work... I don’t think so?”

Now it was Junil’s turn to be confused. “He doesn’t? Though...”

Junil was about to ask why he’d be at the Capital then, but paused. The simpleton Demonfolk girl probably wouldn’t know how to answer that question.

“...What do you know about him?” Junil asked.

Sollar smiled, once again.

“My brother, Luth-ar. He’s the greatest brother ever!”

Junil’s mind paused.

Luthar?

“Oh, he’s a good brother!” Sollar continued. “He brings me things always, and he even made me Shov-ar!”

As in, Luth? Did she hear that correctly? Or was ‘Luth’ just common to see in Demonfolk names?

As Junil was in thought, Sollar pulled a shovel out from beneath the seat in front of her, where she stashed it.

“See?” the Demonfolk girl asked. “Shov-ar!”

Junil hesitated when asking the next question. “Luthar? You said that’s the name of your brother?”

“Yes! But he got in trouble for some reason, and people are mad at him. But it’s fine, because I’m going to go meet him!”

This was... it couldn’t be Luth, could it? Luthar, Luth... some Demonfolk must’ve named their son Luthar, maybe after the name of Luth. Sure, that was it, there was no way... but then, the Healer thought about the Demon Lord’s appearance. That orange hair, those apricot-colored eyes...

It couldn’t be, could it?

Junil was so enraptured over her thoughts that she almost jumped when she felt the Hero’s armored glove on her shoulder.

“Junil. Get back,” Ronn said.

Confused, the Healer looked up. “Ronn? What’s wrong?”

“I said get back!”

Ronn pulled Junil back by the hood of her coat. The Healer almost tumbled into the passengers right beside Ronn, as the Hero immediately held himself in a stance. One of his hands neared the hilt of his broadsword.

“Ronn, what has gotten into you?” Junil yelled. The earlier revelation she almost had now lapsed her thoughts, her mind now mostly focused on the slight stinging bruise at her neck due to the Hero’s rough handling of her. The Healer steadied herself to her knees after taking that tumble to the ground.

“That Demonfolk girl you are talking to is her.”

“Who?”

He spared her only a second’s glance when looking down.

“She’s the one we’re after.”

Both the Healer and the Hero stared at Sollar

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“Ronn, I’m not sure...”

“Orange hair, orange eyes. Horns that curve backward. Incisions on her tail that roughly match. A shovel that looks as though it was hand-crafted by the Demon Lord himself.”

Ronn said that with as quiet and as serious a tone as he could muster to Junil. The Hero’s unrelenting gaze beamed down on the Demonfolk girl, who scooted a bit closer to the window. Her tail twitched as it coiled up around one of her arms.

“Her accent even sounds like his. No doubt about it.”

The surrounding passengers murmured, while the closest ones in the seats directly in front and behind promptly vacated theirs. While it was technically against riding policy, it seemed that even the train attendant didn’t want to say a word about commotion involving the Hero.

“Uh… Sorry? I’m sorry,” Sollar said.

The Demonfolk girl wasn’t sure what she did wrong. She was talking with the nice green-haired lady, Jun-ar, but then the armored person pulled her away for some reason.

It all began when she grabbed Shov-ar. Maybe she wasn’t allowed to hold it out.

“Um, I put away.”

Sollar proceeded to stash her shovel under the seat in front of her, and pat it twice to show the Hero that it was safely under the seat.

“See? Away!”

She gave a beaming smile to the Hero. Five seconds passed, and his posture did not change. The Demonfolk girl felt as though something was wrong for sure.

“I am aware of your true identity. Your time on the run is over. Are you willing to surrender?”

Ronn’s right arm grabbed at the hilt of his massive broadsword. He pulled it out an arm’s length, to threaten her.

“This does not have to be difficult, unless you wish for it to be so.”

Sollar tilted her head. He wanted her to put Shov-ar away, but now he’s taking his sword out? That didn’t make sense, not at all! She muttered something under her breath, just barely enough for Ronn to catch it.

“Pardon?” the Hero asked.

“...Not fair.”

He shook his head. “Life is not fair, little Demon. Whatever dubious plans you have in mind will not come to fruition. Now, will you surrender?”

The only part that Sollar could fully hear and comprehend was ‘life is not fair’.

She wasn’t having any of that.

“Not fair!”

Sollar proceeded to grab her shovel and haphazardly pulled it up to her chest. In the process, her shovel proceeded to tear a new leg-height window into the side of the train car, as the enchanted spade on the end worked its cutting magic.

“Ronn!” Junil yelled as she detected a surge of magic coming from the Demonfolk girl. “She’s using magic!”

The Hero didn’t need to be told twice, as he immediately swung his broadsword down on the Demonfolk girl.

Sollar shut her eyes tight and held the shovel above her to shield herself.

A loud clang reverberated across the entire cabin, the moment the Hero swung his broadsword down.

Everyone within the vicinity of the two held their breaths.

When Sollar opened her eyes again, she saw that his sword was blocked by her own shovel. Both the spade of the shovel and the blade of the sword glowed at the edges.

Not one person moved, even as the rail engine rumbled over the tracks.

Sollar used this momentary distraction to scramble away over the seats in front of her, taking her shovel with her while doing so.

As the Hero reeled from his sword’s impact on the shovel, Junil was gathering herself off the ground behind him.

“Ronn. Ronn, what are you thinking?” Junil asked. She had gotten to her feet and wiped the dust off her outfit.

“Assessing a threat,” was his immediate response.

The Healer simply stood there, gobsmacked at the man’s recklessness.

“We are in the middle of a moving carriage!” the Healer exclaimed. “There are people in front, behind, and to the left and right of us! Couldn’t you have saved the reveal once we’ve stopped?”

“Lengthening the distance between you and the Second Coming was my first priority,” the Hero replied. “For, if you had come to the conclusion that she was our suspect on your own, would you have kept it quiet yourself?”

Junil glowered at the Hero, but she knew the answer to that: She wouldn’t have.

“That still doesn’t make me feel any better,” she grumbled.

Ronn lifted his broadsword up to eye level to examine the weapon. Right where he had struck the shovel was a small chip out of the sturdy blade.

“She managed to chip my blade while using her weapon’s abilities. This is concerning.”

“What? How?” the Healer asked. She peered up at the blade herself, trying to discern the damage. But the Hero brought his sword back down to hip level before she could.

“There is no time for that,” he continued. “We must go after the Second Coming immediately.”

He immediately made his way down the hallway, with the Healer in tow.

Meanwhile, Sollar was catching her breath. She had run a good distance further down the line of rail carriages. The cramped space and the murmuring and muttering of the surrounding people proved to be a distraction, and she stopped for a moment to rest.

Grabbing at the pouch of coins around her neck, the Demonfolk girl was relieved to find that they were still attached to her.

Then, she peered down the length of the hallway, only to spot the Hero himself running between the seats, and making a direct beeline for her.

Sollar had barely a moment to panic before the Hero swung his broadsword sideways, with far more dexterity than someone in a suit of armor should’ve had.

The blade sliced through the thin wooden and canvas fabric walls of the carriages. Sollar had evaded the blade by narrowly stepping back. A few wisps of her hair had been caught by the edge.

Sollar stumbled, in surprise. Her shovel remained at her side as she stared at the menacing armored Hero before her.

“Second Coming,” the Hero stated. “Surrender now.”

Sollar shook her head.

“That is not my name,” she said. Her voice was defiant. Loud.

Ronn remained persistent. “Regardless. Your journey ends here. The War is lost, and continuing to shed blood now will achieve nothing.”

An ounce of confusion wormed its way into Sollar’s mind, after Ronn said that.

“The ‘War’?” she asked. “What war?”

He didn’t respond, and instead took another few steps forward. Sollar took another immediate step back.

“Second Coming. Do you hear me?”

Sollar glanced between Ronn and his broadsword. Then, she scowled at him.

“That is not my name!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed.

With her beloved shovel in hand, the Demonfolk girl swung it down, as though it were a hammer. The only thing that prevented it from slicing directly through the wooden floor was the Hero, narrowly swinging his broadsword forward to catch the glowing edge of her shovel’s blade.

It also made a good-sized chip on the flat side of Ronn’s weapon.

“Are you trying to destroy the floor of the carriage?” the Hero asked.

Sollar immediately pulled the shovel back. She felt like she did something wrong, the way the Hero said that.

“Nuh-uh!” she exclaimed. “It was an accident!”

“An accident,” Ronn muttered, at the absurdity of it.

Sollar turned tail once again, but this time she was already near the very front carriages of the rail engine. There were no more carriages for her to retreat back to, only the coal car and the steam engine that powered the entire rail engine.

But that didn’t stop Sollar. She simply hopped onto the coal-filled carriage, her tail trailing behind her and swaying to ensure she remained balanced.

Ronn continued forward, however. His broadsword trailed behind him, as the end of the blade cut its own path directly through the wooden floor of the train.

He raised the weapon over his shoulder, cleaving it right through the roof of the carriage, and then swung it sideways, with the intent to strike Sollar’s arm.

He undershot. The Hero’s broadsword smashed into the side of the coal car. Sollar immediately jumped up as the side of it was cleaved directly off, and coal began spilling out onto the side of the track.

The Demonfolk girl’s tail shot up, in surprise. Her apricot-colored eyes were wide at the sudden attack by the Hero..

Junil, in the meanwhile, had been running up to Ronn and trying to catch her breath.

“Ronn!” she exclaimed. “Please, stop going too far ahead of me!”

But the Hero wasn’t listening to her. His attention was entirely on the Demonfolk girl in front of him. Ronn knew what was going to happen. As the Healer stepped up behind him, he held his arm out to stop her.

“Junil, stand back. She’s going Manic.”

Sollar’s breaths were deepening. She clenched and unclenched her left hand, with her other arm holding her shovel.

The changes were immediately apparent. Having witnessed other Demonfolk do the same, both Ronn and Junil knew what to expect.

The sclera of Sollar’s eyes darkened to a blood-red color. The skin on her forearms and legs started to blacken, hardening like a quick-forming callous. Her fingernails even started to grow a little, too.

Being so close to her, Junil swore that she could actually see the Demonfolk girl’s hair grow a little longer.

Ronn tightened the grip on his broadsword, preparing for a fight.

“She’s gone Manic,” he warned. “Junil, prepare a healing spell—”

Instead of attacking, like what Ronn would expect, Sollar leaped off the destroyed coal car and scampered away from right between his legs. Ronn spun around to see where she was going, Junil stepping out of the way out of sheer surprise.

The Demonfolk girl scrambled upright after directly bypassing the Hero, sprinting away from him at a pace faster than earlier.

“Ronn, you just let her get away?” Junil exclaimed.

“I did not expect her to flee. The vast majority of Demonfolk who go Manic typically attack!”

The two were now backtracking down the train carriage after the Demonfolk girl. Ronn still held out his weapon, which swayed and nicked the floor and ceiling of the rail engine carriages now and then. Junil, meanwhile, had her wand out.

They passed right by where the two had been seated earlier, before making it all the way to the last carriage.

It was different from the other ones, being a specialized rear carriage built for the task of what appeared to be housing the crew. Thankfully, there was no one in there, save for one.

Sollar had retreated to the very back railing, but saw that there was no train for her to retreat to anymore. The Demonfolk girl peered down at the fast moving rail, right behind the rear carriage.

Soon, she was joined by the other two. Ronn stepped right in, pushing the door of the carriage aside. Junil came in soon after him, taking a few deep breaths after running.

“Second Coming, there is no escape now,” Ronn stated. “I would recommend you surrender, but you are manic at the moment.”

Sollar blinked through her red eyes. She then frowned and bared her teeth.

“I told you already, that isn’t my name!” she exclaimed. “My name is Sollar! Soll-ar!”

She held two fingers out in front of her, as if to emphasize the individual syllables of her name. It looked unusual, considering that the skin on her hands had toughened when she went manic.

Junil was staring at Sollar, mostly in confusion. By all means, the Demonfolk girl should be trying to attack them right now, but she wasn’t.

She had a moment of realization. The Healer raised her arm, trying to stop the Hero.

“Ronn, wait—!” she exclaimed.

But just as Junil reached her arm out, Sollar took a final step back. The Demonfolk girl lost her footing right as they passed over a bridge that went over a canyon.

All it took was for Sollar to glance down, before she slipped. She didn’t even yelp or give out a shout of surprise as she careened off the side of the train, falling past the bridge into the river below.

Junil ran up right to the back railing, but by then the canyon had passed by already. The Healer looked down, in shock, at the fast-moving rails beneath her.

“She... she fell,” Junil said. “She really just...”

The only thing Junil could hear was the rattling of the carriages and her own breathing.

“She did not fall. She escaped,” Ronn stated.

The Healer glanced back over at the Hero. She grimaced.

“I know you’re not medically inclined, but I’m very sure that fall was not survivable!” the Healer yelled.

Ronn shook his head. “On the contrary. Before the ravine passed by completely, I saw something on the bottom.”

“What? A river? There was one at the bottom, but—”

“I witnessed a barge right below us, with a tarp over it.”

Junil gave Ronn an incredulous stare.

“A... a barge? What does that have to do with anything?” the Healer asked. She was almost shouting at the Hero.

“If she were to land on the barge’s cargo, that would likely have broken her fall,” Ronn said. “And, if she did not, the crew of that barge would have pulled her from the water.”

Junil paused.

“Wait, so you think she somehow was colluding and had all this planned out?”

“No. A mere coincidence, most likely. A ridiculous coincidence, but one regardless. We cannot pursue her at this point, but we must make it to New Frontierland in haste.”

The Hero sheathed his broadsword, before glancing down the wrecked carriages of the rail engine behind them. The passengers were huddled together, many of them staring at the aftermath of the rampage.

“And are we gonna have to explain this?” Junil asked.

“I will not.”