Demons

Lorenzo drifted down from the top of the windmill and approached the corpse of the demon wolf that had seemed to be the leader, intending to check it for any clues.

"Just as I thought, something's wrong."

Parting the fur at the side of its neck revealed several strange purple-black markings spreading toward its heart. They looked like something alive trying to hide. If he had known, he should have shot an arrow straight through its heart.

Lorenzo extended a finger and placed a wisp of mana on one of the markings, preparing to analyze what it was made of.

But the instant he touched it, it contracted sharply, then detached itself from the demon wolf's body and flew toward the depths of the wheat field as a thin black thread.

Lorenzo had been prepared. He immediately raised his hand, and an arrow struck the black thread that seemed to be fleeing. It broke apart in midair and turned into a small cloud of gray mist, which ultimately took the shape of what looked like a closed eye.

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes slightly.

The gray eye slowly opened, revealing a pitch-black pupil. He suddenly felt someone watching him through the residual mana.

Their gazes met briefly, and then it abruptly collapsed. All the mist vanished without a trace in the night wind.

What kind of strange magic was this?

Lorenzo scratched his head.

There were simply too many kinds of magic in this world, with all sorts of bizarre effects. The best example was the spell Frieren had used before to make fish crispy. Back in his previous life, he could have racked his brains and never imagined a spell like that existed.

So in a system like this, the sudden appearance of a gray eye that could observe people from a distance hardly seemed surprising.

Lorenzo then examined the demon wolf corpses closely. Perhaps he could find some other clues on them.

There was some dark, wet mud caught between their claws. But the soil near the southern wheat field was relatively dry, and even the mud in the irrigation ditches was distinctly light brown. This nearly black, wet mud clearly didn't belong here.

A few tiny pieces of gray-green moss were mixed in with the mud. Lorenzo picked one up between his fingertips and examined it in the moonlight.

A thin layer of white fuzz grew on the back of the moss. When he had passed through the woods to the north not long ago, he seemed to have seen something similar on a shady rock face near the stream.

That meant the demon wolves that had appeared from the south most likely hadn't come all the way from the southern hills. Instead, they had first passed through the northern forest, then circled around the village and entered the wheat field from the south.

No wonder Zanze had found only a dozen or so demon wolves on the south side earlier. It seemed the rest of the pack had originally been hiding in the north, and only after the three of them had divided up their duties had they taken advantage of the darkness to circle around from farther away.

"Did they even adjust the numbers sent in each direction on the fly?"

Lorenzo sighed softly.

This was getting more and more troublesome. He hoped everything would end tonight. Otherwise, if they had to continue investigating after dealing with these demon wolf attacks, it probably wouldn't be so easy to get away.

Unfortunately, people who hid in the shadows and manipulated beasts into attacking villages usually weren't so considerate.

Just then, the alarm crystal Lorenzo had casually slipped into his pocket lit up.

Accompanied by a series of urgent chimes, its dark red light began flashing continuously, without a pause.

It seemed something had gone wrong on the west side.

"They really aren't giving us a moment's rest."

The closer he got to the riverbank, the stronger the smell of blood in the air became. It didn't smell like it came from demon wolf corpses, but from fresh human blood.

Floating in the air, Lorenzo sniffed.

The defenses at the shallow river to the west had been utterly destroyed. Tripwires and barricades were scattered everywhere, and several sharpened stakes that had been driven into the ground had been ripped out and tossed aside like casually snapped branches.

Some of the villagers who had been standing guard lay between the riverbank and the road. Some had already stopped breathing, while others clutched their wounds and struggled to crawl toward the village.

Only one person seemed to have broken through the defenses—or, more accurately, one Demon. After all, Lorenzo had never seen a human with two horns growing out of their head.

In theory, he couldn't rule out the possibility of some mage using magic to give themselves a pair of horns for the sake of a distinctive look. But such a person's eyes probably wouldn't be as utterly devoid of warmth as those of the figure before him.

The Demon stood in front of the broken wooden wall, its right hand still extended forward. A trail of black mana lingered in the air, not yet fully dispersed.

Just as Lorenzo was about to attack, a beam of white light descended from higher up.

The Demon jerked sideways. The beam grazed its shoulder and slammed into the ground, sending dust and shattered stones flying in all directions.

Frieren slowly descended from the night sky, her long white hair lifted by the air currents and the staff in her hand already pointing at the Demon. She first glanced at the villagers lying on the road, then raised her eyes and stared at the Demon before her.

The Demon looked at Frieren. It seemed to recognize her as well, and an expression resembling a smile slowly appeared on its ever-impassive face.

"I never expected the famous Frieren to appear here. It seems heaven truly intends for me to earn merit today."

Earn merit? What merit? For whom?

Before Lorenzo could give it further thought, long brown hair surged into the street like a tide, sweeping aside all the assorted things on the ground. It was practically a one-click cleanup master. With power like that, if she used it to clear rubble, carry lumber, or even help build houses, she would probably be far more efficient than dozens of ordinary workers.

Nothing else aside, if she wanted to, she could probably hold up a roof beam while carrying bricks and clear away all the debris on the construction site at the same time. She could handle the work of an entire construction crew by herself.

He really wished she could travel with them. Then they truly wouldn't have to sleep rough in the wilderness anymore. They could simply raise a towering building from the ground.

Zanze approached from the end of the road, the long hair behind her fully spread out, making her look just like a "brown-haired witch." Countless strands climbed over the ground and up the houses, sealing off the Demon's escape routes one by one.

A few strands reached toward the injured on the ground, carefully wrapped around their bodies, and dragged them away from the area where a battle was about to erupt.

"You'll die here."

Frieren spoke to the Demon without expression.

After all, no matter how one looked at it, the Demon before them had no way to escape.

But the smile on its face didn't disappear. Instead, it grew more pronounced.

"Not necessarily."

It then raised its right hand, and mana gathered in its palm. But instead of firing at any of the three, it sent the mana straight up into the night sky.

A deep roar came from high above, and the air currents over the village abruptly changed. The once-steady night wind turned violent.

Roof tiles were ripped up one after another, and planks and stones scattered beside the road were swept into the air. Zanze immediately sent some of her hair to secure the houses and the injured, keeping them from being blown away by the sudden gale.

Lorenzo looked up at the sky.

The clouds were forcibly torn apart, and a blue-gray dragon slowly appeared. It had a slender body and broad wings, their membranes covered in silver markings like patterns of wind.

"I see. It's a Windwing Dragon."

Frieren also looked up at the dragon in the sky.

"Is that what gives you confidence?"