When the thick, long black staff came down, the human-shaped figure with twisted limbs went flying like a wisp of hair in the wind, crashing to the ground far away.
Such creatures weren't even worth the trouble of using magic on.
The black-robed old man held his staff in one hand and stroked his short beard with the other, giving the slightest shake of his head.
The mist gradually receded, revealing the severed, fallen "undead" scattered all around. The cold wind, laced with the foul reek of decay, did its best to assault the old man's already dulled nostrils.
"Boohoohoo… You've gone and broken them all. Why would you do something so dreadful?"
Without any warning, a sobbing, high-pitched little-girl voice rang out abruptly from above.
At the sound, the old man did not lift his head, nor did he soften in the slightest. His aged voice carried a note of sarcasm and displeasure.
"As clumsy a performance as ever, Demon Race."
A single sentence laid bare the true identity of the new arrival.
"So you noticed?" The silver-bell voice, childish yet unmistakable, gradually cooled, drained of every trace of feeling. The feigned grief and innocence were replaced by frigid cruelty.
"I never harm Humans of my own accord. However — you've ruined my precious collection and toys, and turned this place into a wreck. Human, you'll be made to pay the price."
A vast, sinister flood of Mana came pouring down from the sky, asserting a strength utterly at odds with that small body.
"Truthfully speaking, I was rather fond of them."
The loli demon added one more remark. She was perched atop a great white cotton cushion; the soft cushion functioned like a flying craft, bearing the tiny demon as it drifted in mid-air. The way she sat hugging her knees with her face buried looked like nothing so much as a small flip-phone folded shut.
Long purple hair cascaded like a waterfall over a black Lolita-style dress, trailing all the way down to the edge of the cushion. On top of her head sprouted a pair of small white demon horns.
One side of her cheek was buried against her knees, sheathed in black over-the-knee socks; only a single eerie green eye showed, glancing sidelong at the old man below.
"Why not turn the one who broke them — you — into part of my collection?"
Killing intent from every direction and Mana thick with oppressive weight bore down upon the black-robed old man below. Yet his spine remained as straight as ever.
The wreckage all around had been cleaved apart by magic; the old man, on arrival, had merely tidied away the last few that still remained — and yet a great round black pot of blame had been clapped down squarely onto his head.
"This was not the work of this old one alone."
"Then would you kindly tell me — when I came here, the very first thing I saw was you sending my toy flying. What's your reason for that?"
A remarkably patient Demon Race, it seemed.
"You seem rather skilled at conversing with Humans?"
"Naturally. I am not like those fools of my kind."
"Heh. Then just go ahead and consider me the one who ruined this place."
"Hm?"
A flicker of bewilderment showed on the loli demon's face.
"A very simple reason — because you are a Demon Race, this old one needs to offer no explanation."
The black-robed old man — Wilhelm. Lord Protector of the Ohaly Kingdom, war hero of the Human-Demon War, demon-slayer… beneath countless such epithets stood a symbol of his extraordinary strength.
Even without the certification of the Continental Magic Association, he had long since reached — indeed, surpassed — the threshold of a First-Class Mage.
"Nameless Great Demon, how about giving these old bones a warm-up for the war to come?"
As he spoke, a strand of Killing Magic charged with the power to strike at the Demon Race condensed into a magic array at unbelievable speed, and a black pillar of light shot toward the foe suspended in mid-air.
"I see. You truly are a piece no less worthy of collection than that one's."
Sensing the abruptly unleashed, highly threatening Mana from Wilhelm, the loli demon let out a quiet inward sigh. "Turning a living being into a collection piece… how very troublesome…"
At some point along the way, the moment a Human encountered the Demon Race, war would simply unfold. Compared to all those complicated tangles of hatred, "because it is the Demon Race" — that reason alone was enough.
No exchange of words was needed; straight into combat, on until one side's existence was extinguished.
Such was the maxim of the old man's era.
Gaderia, in the public square.
"Ooh, ooh, the statue's come back to life!"
"Idiot! She's obviously just a person who looks the same as the statue."
"But she's got horns, you know."
"My mama says the ones made into statues are all our heroes, aren't they?"
"Clap!" Aaron clapped his hands hard, a wry smile on his face. "All right, children — now that you've helped yourselves to every offering laid beside the statue, hurry on home. If the Lord catches you, you'll be in for a hundred swats on the bottom, you know."
Hearing Aaron's words, the children — who had been gathered around Nanoda, munching on their pilfered loot and chattering up a storm — scattered in every direction, as though they'd just laid eyes on a monster.
"So… why hasn't the Lord done anything about it yet?"
Now freed from the encirclement, Nanoda looked a touch helpless. With these fragile, vaguely adorable little things, she simply hadn't the heart to do anything.
"Heh, children are the future of the city. I was only giving them a little scare. Still — if I let them cling to you forever, wouldn't that get in the way of your journey?"
His bald head gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight, and the middle-aged man, with fine creases just beginning to show at the corners of his brow, exuded an unmistakable air of one who stood above others. With the passing of the years, Aaron had grown ever more sagacious and composed.
It was hard to imagine that just over a decade ago he had been so down on his luck as to become a bandit.
"Off again, are you…"
"I've rested long enough. Besides searching for Yuna, there are a few other matters I need to attend to. Don't worry — I've already arranged things with Qual ahead of time. He'll back up Gaderia for me."
With the death of the Northern Empire's emperor and the constant power struggle that had followed the enthronement of the new puppet emperor, the pressure brought to bear on Gaderia had been greatly weakened.
On top of that, over the past several years, Qual's magic and magical implements had advanced by leaps and bounds, growing ever more formidable. Under the present pressure he could hold Gaderia without difficulty.
Should some major crisis arise, Qual also had a means of contacting Nanoda.
Tracking down Yuna, who still had not returned; restoring her own Demon Race association; the runaway Aura… Even with the crisis of the Golden Land resolved, Nanoda still had no shortage of things to do.
"Is that so. I've watched that child grow up from when she was small. I trust she'll come to no harm."
"Mm."
Nanoda nodded, gave Aaron one last look, and turned to leave.
Apparently long accustomed to parting from Nanoda, Aaron let out a hearty laugh. This fellow before him was idler than anyone else in ordinary times — and yet, when the need arose, more diligent than anyone too.
"You'd better be back before I turn into a properly hunchbacked old man."
Before she left, he tossed out a small joke — one that might or might not have been entirely a joke.
"I understand, Human."
"Until next time, Aaron." After a few steps, Nanoda added one more sentence, and to a brief tearing of the air her entire figure vanished outright from the square of Gaderia.
Not long after Nanoda's departure, a speeding carriage, having careened wildly through the streets, came rushing in haste toward the Gaderia Lord's Manor.
The gate guards were on the point of stopping it — but the moment they saw who was at the reins, they instead hurried off to throw open the gates for him.
The driver was a somewhat unkempt, tall and thin middle-aged man. Though his face was haggard from the long, hard journey, he was in truth a nobleman of Gaderia — and at the same time a sinner of Gaderia — Lord Aaron's own younger brother: Abel.
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