Chapter 2 - A Demon

“I am Vanya! The woman who slew the great titan and the true hero of this land!”

Within a day, word spread rapidly. Be it commoners, peasants, nobility, or royalty; the name ‘Vanya’ had descended upon the country like thunder itself.

The ceaseless whispers were a muddled mess. Some still appreciated the efforts Vanya made to make peace, while others became wary of the peculiar horned female.

Of course, such discourse couldn’t be hidden from the Enul Capital, the centre of the Naraka Kingdom.

Silvery light perforated through the painted windows, framed against the mighty gazes of royalty that were grouped together in the room of the mighty Babel Tower in the Naraka Kingdom. Whether of bravado, authority, or preservation, fragments of deep historical achievements hung across the walls.

Delicious, half-eaten food, lay out on their plates across the table. The talks of the colosseum simply deterred them from the delicacies’ splendor.

The eyelids of royalty were heavy—hunkered down by the topic that had descended upon the long council table. Assuming what could only be their comfort posture, they sat across from each other. Two individuals drifted their irises to the side, drowning in their wondrous imagination. One fidgeted with their hands playfully, some couldn’t stop shaking, whilst the rest remained still like a statue.

An unspeakable tension… was prompted by the serrated silence which coursed through the space. Between that silence, two figures generated the most tension.

The two men sat with a distinguished air. An air that exuded superiority over others. Even though one of them smiled warmly, it couldn’t erase the atmosphere that canopied obstinately across their handsome, tan faces.

The warm one had long, dark-brown hair that fell in soft waves past his shoulders, his pristine tan skin shining under the moon’s rays. A long white brocade robe covered his tall, seated frame and a rich belt wrapped around his waist. Lips that were pursed rather tightly had unclasped smoothly.

“It seems the person who brought us ‘peace’ isn’t who we thought it was. Quite the shocker,” he’d say softly, hand slithering down his long, dark brown hair. Subtly, his golden sigil-shaped earrings jingled.

“‘Shocker. Your Highness, shouldn’t we be more concerned? It’s not every day we see… someone with a demonic horn at the side of their head.” A short, lithe woman deflected against Her Highness’s… slightly apathetic reaction. “The audience at the colosseum described her to be an anomaly. She’s no doubt the one that destroyed the Titan. What if that power turns against us?”

More voices rose among the table of royalty.

“I agree with Miss Celestia. There are many things we don’t understand in this world. She might talk like us, but it could be trying to feign human speech. Maybe as a way to fake its humanity.” said a man with glasses and simple black hair.

“I dunno guys… shouldn’t we try to talk to it first? ‘She’ still brought us peace for a year. It would be a waste to just, ya know… imprison, let alone kill her. Violence should be the last option, to be honest. From what I heard, she could probably mess up seventy percent of noblemen at least.” a nonchalant curly-haired person retorted.

“Such impudence! This is why the Windgard family is a disgrace! Just filled with hippies that can’t get a grasp on reality! Go back to chasing and breeding beasts!” he uttered. His rather large nostrils flared like he sought to take all the oxygen in the room.

“Talk about being a ‘humble priest.’ What a positive thing to say. Well…at least I have a Key Art. You don’t have anything besides a gigantic nose that looks for romantic opportunities.”

“Tch, how dare—”

THWACK!

A heavy hand struck the table, kinetic force subtly jerking the plates inches off the ground. A tall, built woman, possessed long, braided, blonde hair.

“It’s clear that she’s a sentient human being like us, isn’t it? So why treat her like a mere beast? That doesn’t mean we should take comfort in that. The fact that she defeated the Great Titan… means her power is unimaginable. Like they say, our greatest allies can be our greatest foes!”—she’d swipe her arms across the room, addressing every single individual, even Her Highness—“we should try to understand, try to reason, and treat her with the same level of scrutiny we should treat any deceased patient!”

For a moment, the back-and-forth atmosphere broke, giving way to something more thoughtful.

A single man, obscured in a dark mask, bandages across his arms, wild spiky red hair, and a long brown cape—as well as a stupendously large stature had spoken; his voice was like the bellowing earth.

“‘The Godslayer’. A tale old as time; we know how it goes. A mortal man, when faced with an unstoppable Purity Beast in the East, a dark essence coiled around his form.” The man articulated everything in his mind. He could still vividly remember it; made up of nothing but a dark, dooming sky and a myriad of corpses strewn across the battlefield.

In the middle, stood a battered man, their face obscured. Their ragged breaths told a story of unstoppable trials and tribulations.

“The dark essence was a part of him. It didn’t suddenly come to his aid. It had always been with him. A tail and horn that looked like demons from myth. With this power, he slayed the beast. Many theorise that this man had been half-human and half-purity. ”

Momentarily, the breaths of people in the room hitched.

“You’re telling me… she’s half-purity?” the lithe, small woman asked.

“Just a possibility.” replied the large, bandaged man.

“You’re basing your theory on mere myth. That’s ridiculous,” the large-nosed man retorted.

The warm, pretty-faced brown-haired man looked at everyone conversing; the other man at his side watched with a similar stare.

They measured how everyone spoke to one another; how they bickered incessantly.

It seemed entirely useless. Trivial.

Still, the warm one acknowledged the insight the bandaged one gave.

The narrative often painted the hardy, warrior ones as stupid. I’m glad that isn’t the case for Ankur Amadeus.

A loud, sharp sound vibrated through the room as the warm one clapped his hands together, captivating everyone's attention.

“Nice insight from my friend, Ankur Amadeus. Whether that myth aligns with the truth or not, we aren’t sure. All we can do now is take action, right?”

The other tan man beside the warm one stood up. His hand rested on his golden scabbard, and his black uniform swayed slightly with unease. Then the corner of his lips expanded into a grin that embodied a man who ‘believed he was the strongest.’

“Hear that? Father is saying that I, Gabriel Byzantine, should do something about her while you all quarrel like apes! Demon, god, or whatever it is, no one shall triumph over my divine swordsmanship.”

A faint glow escaped from his scabbard before fading away.

The other council members watched the young Gabriel; some appalled at his courage and fearlessness, while others’ faces warped with embarrassment.

“What’s with the long faces? You dare doubt a Byzantine?”

“No, my Lord…it’s just we don’t know what we’re dealing with.” the large-nosed man muttered.

“And? Has that stopped the many Purity Slayers from diving into the maws of those beasts?”

A loud gulp rolled from the throat of the cautious, big-nosed person, their gaze unable to even fixate on Gabriel properly.

“You’re lucky I ate a good meal today; that sad excuse of a nose would be sniffing no more opportunities..”

Ankur Amadeus, in spite of his imposing stature, released a short, quiet burst of air. From the look of it, it was laced with amusement.

The nonchalant, curly-haired man exploded with laughter, hands battering his knees.

The others stayed silent, but their flat lips occasionally extended, like they were sporadically pulled on by something.

“Let Gaby deal with her. I’ll also send several other Slayer Lieutenants to accompany him.” Ankur said, and switched his attention over to Gabriel’s father, the king.

“Your Majesty, it’s good you have that much trust in your child. I wish I could say the same about my own.”

Solomon merely smiled, tilting his head a bit to the side.

Gabriel saw his father lighten up, a faint pink colour rising to his cheeks.

The council meeting had ended, leaving just the clustered boots of several nobles and royalty to eventually part from each other.

In the massive corridors which felt as if they stretched for eternity, the reverberated echoes of Gabriel’s black polished boots conversed with the atmosphere. These steps were impactful. Demanding.

Filled with heat.

Veins ripped across his tan hand, grasping tightly onto his scabbard, and his hazel eyes were framed by his contorting brows.

There was no enemy, but he burrowed into the ‘nothingness’ with an indescribable intensity.

Along the way, he came across something… filthy. A brown stain on the red, speckless floor. The son of the King came to a stop, the grip on his hilt tightening for a moment.

The ripples of his heavy-handed heartbeat coincided with the hurrying steps that approached him. It was a middle-aged blonde woman. Her brown wolf-like tail trailed behind, and her long tunic reached all the way to her ankles.

The fabric of her dress snapped back into place as her steps halted abruptly. Her hands instinctively reached to her chest.

Without a single word, she bent her knees, head nudging forward.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

Her gaze, like a discharged arrow, sniped certain parts of Gabriel. From his honed, focused look to the hand that rested on his hilt.

She didn’t know why, but it felt like she stood close to a volcano.

And that feeling was affirmed by the prince’s words.

“Five seconds to give me an answer.”

Her eyes widened.

Five seconds? she thought.

“Three seconds now.”

The woman’s mouth parted, her shoulders tightly hunching upward.

“Your Highness, I don’t unders—”

A heavy foot came down, the impact combusting like a bomb. Gabriel’s teeth clenched together tightly. His nostrils flared, and his eyes sharpened like a blade.

Those very features seemed all too personal and apparent as his hand reached for her collar and roughly tugged her close.

Until she saw the very thing that instilled fear into her: a mighty, divine blade.

Everything happened so fast, with a swiftness she couldn’t pinpoint.

“Do I have to explain everything to you? You’re a maid and don’t recognise the abhorrent stain that lies on the ground a meter away from me? Who trained you?! Who even let you into this castle? Are you training to seem like someone that’s in a good position?”

It was only her quivering breath and her sizzling eyes, captured by fear, that did the talking.

“You can’t even speak, worthless fur-skin. You can’t apologise. You can’t take action. What can you do? You ignorant, disgusting filth!”

Gabriel released her, pushing her away. Her body smacked the ground with no grace. A muffled grunt unleashed from her.

What followed from the Son of the Narakan King was a sigh, as he walked past the little maid on the ground. The lights of the castle, controlled by the runes, elevated in brightness, hammering down on Gabriel’s hair and black uniform, glistening the golden ‘Purity Slayer’ insignia.

Meanwhile the maid had been left behind him, pondering in the pitiful darkness she was placed into.

His hands reached for his pockets. In front of him, Ankur Amadeus arrived from a corner. His giant towering stature peered down at the seemingly… angered Byzantine heir.

“You really hate unsightly things, huh?”

“Hate?”

The brown-haired Amadeus clenched his fist, the current scenery of the golden palace, its runic lights, its red polished floor, and its couches fading away into a smoky ashen substance. In its place… was her hand, a flimsy one.

Her face, her body—all were bloated beyond recognition. He remembered how hoarse his voice had been.

Screams and prayers tore through the rooms, they all wanted her to at least open her eyes. Even as the healers poured their very sweat and soul into restoring her… It was inevitable.

Death claimed her like she was its scythe. And it was all because… those putrid beast-kin didn’t want to help her when she got infected.

And of course… purities… Disgusting, impure creatures that infected her to begin with. I will kill them all.

A heavy breeze entered his mind, returning to Ankur Amadeus, the man who was also his teacher. The man who had honed him since he was a boy.

All so that he could impress his father and eliminate all that spread rot.

“I’ll execute them all. I’ll show them that their futile existence was a mistake from the moment they were born!”

A sliver of a smile had been etched onto Ankur’s staunchly built physique. He placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder firmly, squeezing it slightly.

“If so, then you better get your ass to training more, Gaby. You’ll want to answer more with your actions than your words.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled. “I will.”

Down the hall, the two continued their stroll toward the distant light at the palace exit.

“Today we start energia cultivation to improve your elemental sorcery.”

“Dammit again?” he whined loudly. “My legs cramped when I sat on my a*s for several hours.” he said, comically reaching to pull on his brown hair.

“A*s muscles are vital too. An old comrade of mine was called ‘One-A*s-Man’ among the Purity Slayer unit.”

“Like I believe that nonsense!”