A Massive Demon Before the Woman
A massive demon stood before the woman. It had jagged teeth, mold sprouting from its head, and dozens of arms sprouting from its body like tree branches. It towered five times the height of an average man.
The woman's attire was simple. A purple robe shrouded her entire body, and her only weapon was the staff clutched in her hand.
The demon bellowed at her. Given their size difference, one might expect Mar to flee from the demon. But reality was the opposite.
The demon's roar was that of a frightened beast.
Mar Silanatiell. The mage of the Hero Party. The one who had destroyed half the world. Before her—before the history she had amassed—all demons became rabbits before a predator.
Mar ignored the demon snapping its teeth at her and turned her head. A colossal mystery stirred. A mystery laden with history, grudges, and tales capable of shaking and overturning the world.
"So you've donned the Paulownia Crown."
The rightful heir who had inherited everything of the Bachea Empire moved.
"The world will be in an uproar for a while."
The demon swung its arms at her. Arms brimming with enough power to crush a man were halted by an invisible force before her.
Mar's gaze returned forward. The earth split open, swallowing the demon whole. The fissure sealed shut, erasing all trace of the demon from the world.
"Our little one, what more do you plan to shoulder here?"
Wind enveloped Mar's body. It thickened until she vanished within it, then scattered. Mar, too, vanished with the wind.
* * *
Nearly twenty horses thundered across the land. The unexpected gallop kicked up a long trail of dust, drawing heads from nearby folk wondering what was happening.
Even at full speed, Marina didn't neglect her duties as surveyor. As she raced past flags, she covered one eye with her hand. The distances between flags and their surroundings etched into her mind like measurements from a ruler. She relayed this to the nearby Union members, who absorbed the info straight into their heads and scattered in all directions with stakes in hand.
While casting the spell, Marina lifted her gaze to the sky. Through a bird's eyes, she surveyed the ground below. She spotted herself riding hard, and ahead lay the ruins of a city.
The city's heart came into view—something previously hidden. At the center yawned an inexplicable hole. A kind she'd never seen before. It wasn't dug with tools. More like something immense had pressed down hard. But what?
At the hole's center sat a flat stone slab, a flag planted atop it. A knight in full plate armor perched there. His helmet hid his face. Yet the weight of his solitary vigil over the city reached her across the distance.
The knight looked up. Their eyes met—or so Marina felt.
It wasn't impossible for a sensitive knight. She hastily averted her gaze.
As a Silanatiell, she'd believed nothing in the world lay beyond her knowledge. Only the Hero Party, including Mar Silanatiell, might elude her understanding.
But on her very first surveying job, incomprehensible events piled up one after another.
Marina spurred her horse faster. The world must hold no secrets from her. That was a Silanatiell. It had to be.
After riding some distance, Marina spotted a small campfire ahead. And people lying nearby. She hadn't seen them clearly before, but from the bird's view, it seemed like a fire outside the walls.
She meant to pass it by. No sane person would lie sleeping in broad daylight. A perfectly reasonable judgment.
Two horses overtook her—Rebella and Marin's mounts. Urging their steeds mercilessly, they dismounted at the fire in a near-leap.
The riderless horses surged forward, trampling the prone figures. Yet they showed no reaction.
They weren't people—they were corpses. Dead without external wounds, necks snapped clean.
And from amid the bodies, a man rose.
* * *
A horse's hoof flashed past as Marhal awoke. He sat up.
"Yawn. You got here faster than I expected?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"You okay? Hurt anywhere?"
He was fine. Not a scratch on Marhal.
Marin circled him like an eager pup, inspecting his body. Freshly changed clothes made him look unchanged from before they'd left.
"Unexpected stuff came up, so we caught up quick. More importantly, we've got an unwelcome guest."
"The surveyor, huh. Figured it'd take days longer."
Marhal yawned as he rose.
Miracles sure are handy.
His body had nearly recovered. No overdoing it, and he'd breeze through the rest of the land race.
"Marin."
"Y-Yes!"
Marhal tossed her a rod from his bosom. Marin eyed it briefly, then her eyes widened.
A flag. The priciest one, which she'd lacked money to buy.
"Plant it."
"R-Really?"
Marin's eyes bulged. Too much had happened in one day. It felt unreal. Trembling hands swung the rod to unfurl the flag, then drove it into the earth.
"Survey first. Talk later."
"Got it."
Not a tough job. Marina covered an eye and lifted her vision skyward. Nearby flags appeared. Averaging distances between them and beaming it into the Union folk's heads would...
Wait...
Something was off. Too neat. The flags' spacing was unnaturally uniform.
This was her first official survey, but her head brimmed with references. Surveying was hard because people jammed flags haphazardly. Measuring distances from a central flag to four to a dozen scattered ones and dividing into near-rectangular plots wasn't easy.
But not here. The layout was so tidy, anyone could compute and stake boundaries on sight.
She knew one person who used this method.
"Something wrong?"
"A friend of Azenman Riantl's?"
"Business partner."
"I see. I'll survey right away."
The survey wrapped quickly. Stake-bearers scattered, and Marina dismounted.
"Pleased to meet you. Marina Silanatiell."
"Same name as Mar Silanatiell."
"Family."
Marina stared hard at Marhal's face. Few knew the Hero Party mage Mar Silanatiell's name. Yet this mercenary-looking man uttered it casually.
Under her gaze, Marhal replied coolly.
"I see. Meeting a relative of a celebrity—what a surprise."
"Distant kin; we don't even know each other's faces. But do you know what happened in there a few hours ago?"
"A demon appeared."
"A demon?"
Not just Marina—nearby Union members gaped in shock.
With the Demon King's death, the demons that claimed half the world vanished. No records since. A demon after ten years?
Urgency etched Marina's face.
"I demand details. What happened?"
"If you know Lord Azenman's winning strategy, you know how this works too?"
"...To pressure the opponent."
Wider flag spacing meant more land. Longer distances between flags were better. But too far, and surveyors wouldn't recognize them—wasting time, money, effort.
So people planted closer than theory allowed. Even those privy to surveying secrets avoided reckless gambles.
Azenman Riantl pushed that risk to the limit. Maximizing distances to pressure unbeatable foes. Groups? He even sowed infighting.
The Union archived his plan as a prime example of exploiting land race rules—top secret.
From a friend, using the same tactic wasn't odd. But knowing it and calculating distances were separate skills.
"Who are you?"
"Just a run-of-the-mill mercenary landlord. Couldn't face a knight with plain muscle, so I teamed with locals to threaten the guy inside. We were wrapping negotiations when a black-misted humanoid monster crashed the party."
"And?"
"Barely won after a brutal fight. Just resting now."
"...Understood."
Lame answer. She hadn't expected much anyway. Curious? She'd check herself. That's how she'd lived.
"To the city. Might as well finish surveying around here."
Marina entered the ruined city with the group.
"This is awkward. What now?"
"Sent a letter. They'll play along."
"What happened? A demon?"
"Rebella, you're hurt? Didn't fight... yeah, I get the gist."
Bayola turned.
"Roll up your sleeve. I can fix the skin at least. You too, Marin."
"More importantly, what went down? Where's Cliff? Who's in the city?"
"Just like I told her. Demon burst in suddenly. Cliff and his men died. A few of Kaban's subordinates fled. We somehow killed the demon and formed a temporary alliance, you could say."
"Cliff's dead?"
"Hard to believe, right? Him and all his men?"
Bayola and Rebela knew imperial knights' prowess and peril. Hard to swallow one demon felled Cliff-tier strength.
"I know demons are dangerous. But one taking out someone like Cliff? Unimaginable. And Kaban survived that?"
"Armor. Cliff wore no armor, not even proper gear. That decided life or death. Pity."
"Your words and face don't match."
Marhal showed no regret. If anything, he seemed cheerier than usual.
"An imperial dying is good news for us westerners. Right, Marin?"
"Empire nobles... could all die for all I care."
Stark fact. Faded rage from hard lives. Without Empire and Holy Empire's aid, western losses wouldn't have reached this. Grudges born of that truth.
Rebella swallowed at the raw western ire.
Shed heard Empire-bashing aplenty. Most common curse in the West, probably. But strangers' gripes differed from known folks' outbursts.
"Stick around the West, and that'll be daily. Get used to it."
"Plenty attacked or killed just for being imperial nobles or knights."
"Still, saying it to their face is a bit..."
"But it's true, isn't it?"
Bayola shrugged at Marhal's uncharacteristically sharp words.
"Marin, got the temporary deed?"
"Yeah."
"Land secured, Wild Dog Knights gone. All done—time to head back. Nice having no gear to pack."
"This easy?"
"Easy? We nearly died. If the demon hadn't shown, we'd be goners. And Rebella might lose arm function without a priest?"
"Didn't mean it like..."
Flustered, Bayola glanced at Rebela. The woman showed no emotion.
"Kidding. Endings to journeys are always anticlimactic. Come on, let's go. Horses ready—we can leave now."
The long land race finally ended.
But Marhal's real work was just beginning.
* * *
When the leather cord pierced the earth, Kaban nearly toppled in shock. As it scrawled letters on the ground, a vague futility washed over him.
"This cord's more capable than me."
Kaban read the dirt writing. A suspicious mage had come; play along accordingly.
Easy enough. The cord sank back, and Kaban scuffed out the message.
A woman on horseback emerged through his tunnel.
"Owner of that flag?"
"Yeah. I'm the owner."
"The surrounding land's odd."
"Had to. Ground sank, so I used a rock instead. That okay?"
"Flags go in soil by rule, but exceptions aren't impossible. What happened here?"
"Demon appeared. No point explaining more."
"Fine. Let's survey."
Demon, demon... Marina mulled the word endlessly.