Chapter 17:


The Demon Saint is Missing, so I Ran to Another World Vol. 13

***Castle Darkmoor***

The Lord Haya might seem to spend most of his time with his sister, but he would still show that he was in control, occasionally. In the aftermath of the castle explosion and subsequent escape of two of Castle Darkmoor’s servants, he had the rest of the household maids be put to death to serve as an example to those who were thinking the same. Then, he replaced them with new servants, pressed into service even though it was against their will—as well as Princess Noir’s protests. Once he was satisfied with his arrangements, the Lord Haya returned to his impassive, casual self.

With the four other clans of Cherflammen fighting each other, he was in no hurry to intervene. His strategy was to wait and see who wins, and bear the entire strength of his army and supporters on the exhausted winner.


But, for that to happen, he needed to gather his supporters once again. Ever since his ‘Knights’ unexpected defeat at the hands of Princess Noir, the Lord Haya had always prepared for his eventual return. He was their father’s original ‘heir’, anyway, and his sister only usurped the throne from him after she returned from her ‘trip’ in Chersea. Their servants would always say—especially that Shevaun Ilkes—that his beloved Noir, who always clung to him when she was young, fell in-love with a human.

The Lord Haya didn’t believe it, at first. When her mother died, Noir looked to him as her beloved big brother, and she meant his whole life for him.


Yet, as he only realized now, that human…that Lord Greg Santos…he took Noir away! Dirtied her mind. Destroyed her innocence! Claimed her heart!


So, just as he watched and waited at the sidelines while the conflict between the orcs, goblins, Tambaras and Biornos raged, the Lord Haya had to prepare as well. His vision of a stronger demon people through the blood of humans remained the same, and he would make sure that his dream for this land would be fulfilled…all for the sake of his sister, a halfling herself.

“Milord,” an elf soldier came to the Lord Haya and handed a letter. It was from one of his allies, among those hiding and scattered all over Cherflammen and waiting for his return. In the letter, a supporter informed him of their army’s arrival, marching from the Blighted Lands region.

“Open the gates for them once they arrive,” was his order to the elf, meant for the city militias of Darkmoor. As he never trusted a fellow Usarved after his defeat, elves now dominated the higher positions of the demon city. Of course, he was aware that his own people never liked bowing to someone else, much more from those of another race. But, they had no choice other than to obey.



We set out for our next destination after spending one more day with the Tambaras.


I wanted to rescue the Princess Noir, and put an end to this senseless conflict, once and for all. However, with our current strength, the only thing I would accomplish would be our deaths.

Of course, I couldn’t possibly let that happen. A dead soldier was useless in battle, no matter how much sacrifice he has made. So, in order to fulfill what I promised, I had to take control of my emotions, and use reason…even if it may seemed to be ‘heartless’ at the moment.

Having determined that our journey could have ‘unnecessary’ but ‘dangerous’ risks, we divided our forces. One group would stay in Fangborough to await our reinforcements from Goblinhom, while the rest of us ventured into the desert. The effect of this strategy was two-fold; this would not only preserve half of our initial strength, their presence there was a symbolic gesture to the Tambara clan that the allied Goblin, Orc and Usarved (the ones loyal to Princess Noir) forces were willing to fight and protect them, even as they had their own military.

And it won’t affect the lycanthropes’ supplies that much…

As for the Usarved maids, Angelli and Leiver, we took them with us, for they were afraid to stay in Fangborough. I understood their request to come, for the city of the Tambara clan was the closest to Darkmoor. If the Lord Haya would mount an offensive to dominate Cherflammen, it was the obvious first target. And all the more reason for me to hurry to Goblinhom.

Before we left, I asked the Tambara elders if they could send a messenger to the city of Helfan, where Lady Shevaun and Lady Capaldi were supposed to be holding the defenses against a possible Biorno attack. I’m just hoping that they didn’t get captured as well.


Ah, shit…another enemy into the scene, eh?

Milord, where are we headed?” the Lord Gracchio asked when he noticed that we’re going to a more southerly direction. He was the one responsible for the compass, and I’m the one with the map.

“Well, the planned resupply in Darkmoor went for naught. With that, we can’t take the direct route to Goblinhom by crossing the desert without proper logistics,” I explained. “And it’s utter madness if we go via the Saint’s Tower-Orcdwelt road. So, I’m taking us to the region of the Blighted Lands.”

The demon head scholar stopped his horse, “The Blighted Lands? Milord, I mean no offense, but are you out of your mind?”

“Nope, I’m still sane. That’s why we’re taking that route.”

“But it is a dead land! No one is living there!”

“Yes, I know.”

Then, awkward and long silence. The Lord Gracchio couldn’t believe where we were heading, but it’s not like he had any other option, and so were the rest of our group. Between heading to the open desert and facing certain death, and following my lead, I think they knew the better choice.

“I know the lord of that place,” I told the Lord Gracchio to calm his fears. “He’s a friend, and he might help us with the provisions for the final leg of the journey to Goblinhom.”

Milord…the prince of the dead is not an actual lord,” the demon head scholar insisted. “They are just a bunch of eternally-decaying corpses, cursed forever to wander this realm! And not to mention, the Blighted Lands hosts some of the supporters of the ‘Knights of Cassandra David’! We’re heading straight to a trap!”

Honestly, I didn’t like how the Lord Gracchio viewed the ghouls of the Lord Vitalis. Sure, they looked disgusting and scary, but those guys…they were more than just rotten flesh and dried bones! Nevertheless, I won’t argue with him; I’d rather have the Lord Gracchio witness the better side of those undead, than explain it.


The journey to the Blighted Lands took almost a week and three days to cover—continuous march, and we stuck traveling through the mountains and hills so that we won’t be lost. Another reason for that was, we could use the hidden passes and paths to avoid enemy patrols that might be searching for us…particularly the Usarved forces loyal to the Lord Haya. A bonus to using the mountain and hillside roads was, there were lots of outcrops that could serve as our ‘shade’ for the duration of the travel, minimizing our exposure to the desert heat.

Fortunately, the Tambara clan sent guides with us, who knows what dust tracks to take.


As I couldn’t last an entire day without proper rest, I would often sleep in one of the carts we brought along. Our generous lycanthrope hosts provided us with enough food and drinks for 15 days, though a trained demon soldier could last several days in grueling conditions without eating or sleeping. The maids could last for two days before getting hungry or exhausted. And the Lord Gracchio? He could stay awake or go hungry for five days.

Yes, the only one who needs to sleep and eat every day is me, the human.


Now I understand why Alexa changed from a human body, to a demon one.

In any case, we implemented switching schedules so we could travel without delay. One group would stay up to guide and guard our convoy, while another slept, to prepare for their duty after the first batch. With that, in ten days, we eventually arrived in our destination.

Fortunately, the journey was uneventful. No hostile encounters, and the most serious problem we encountered was the occasional breaking of some of the carts’ wooden wheels. If that happened, we would simply leave the broken cart behind, and transfer its contents to another one with sufficient space (since we consume food regularly, anyway).

Anyway, the Blighted Lands never changed from the last time I saw it. The same old dark, poisoned soil. The same old dead, twisted trees. And the same old decaying corpses that lie on the ground, scattered around the land as far as my eyes could see.


The army that came with me stayed behind, encamped at the limits of the region. The orcs, goblins and Tambaras who came with us were afraid of crossing into the land, while the Usarved maids opted out. They find the Blighted Lands—and its ‘inhabitants’—disgusting. So, I entered the dead forest with the Lord Gracchio, and two other goblin soldiers.

Milord! Come back here! It’s dangerous!” it was the Lord Gracchio, who called out to me as I got a bit far from their group. He was trying his best not to shout, as he was wary of disturbing the corpses lying on the ground.

Nice. A demon that is afraid of ghouls.

I could only heave a sigh. I always forget that, while people around me always say, ‘the demons created the ghouls’, they didn’t specify that it was the Usarveds who did that. And our Usarved companions were left in the camp outside the Blighted Land, and in Fangborough. Of course, with only a pair of goblins, and an incubus in my company, they had little to no idea of the true nature of Cherflammen’s ghouls.

So, to show them that they had the wrong idea about the Lord Vitalis and his people, I went beside a corpse and shook it awake…much to the shock and alarm of my companions. The corpse then began moving, “Oh, hey! It’s the Lord Gre—”

His happy greeting was cut short when one of the goblins opened fire and blew his head off. Gore and bone fragments splattered all over me, to my surprise.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Calm down! It’s okay!”

I gestured for my armed friends to lower their guns, which they did, thankfully. Then, when I turned to the ghoul…

“Been a while since I got my brains whacked off,” he said, as the magic that kept him ‘alive’ worked its wonders in reconstructing his head. Soon, the corpse was back to normal.

“You got shot in the head,” I corrected him.

“Oh…?” then, the corpse looked at my companions behind me, and nearly scampered away in shock the moment he saw our weapons. “Lord Greg,” he blurted out, “what’s the meaning of this? Are you declaring war on us, ghouls? Why are there goblins bearing crack horns with you?”

Ah, it’s not what you think, Sir Guard,” I reassured the undead sentry. “We actually came from Fangborough, trying to reach Goblinhom after escaping the Biorno siege in the city of the Saint’s Tower. I know it’s a pretty long explanation, but we don’t mean any harm.”

“I…I see…”

Uh, my apologies if I sound demanding, but can we request an audience with your lord? I really need to talk to him.”

The undead sentry stood up (in a shaky, clumsy manner), and gave us a salute. Then he gestured for us to follow, to which my companions reluctantly agreed.


Are y’all tellin’ me that another buttfuckery has begun?” was the Lord Vitalis’ reaction the moment he learned of the resumption of hostilities, after a long lull in fighting around Cherflammen. “Laddie, you ain’t pullin’ a fast one on us, eh?

Milord, it is true. And why would I play jokes on you?” I countered. “It’s the reason we are here before you!”

“Eh…?” the lord of the ghouls seemed to ponder on something, instead of actually listening to my explanation. “So that’s the reason the guards sent by the House Usarved are withdrawn and those wankers from the deeper parts of our forest is moving again!”

“Wankers?” the Lord Gracchio, confused, turned to me.

“Those idiots who call themselves ‘Knights of Cassandra David’, but is more akin to highway robbers and neds!” the Lord Vitalis explained to him. “Color me surprised! ’Yer a sex demon from inside the bellies of ’yer beloved Conclave and yet, ’ya don’t know about those numpties?

“Pardon me, milord,” the demon head scholar defended himself. “I did not involve myself with the ‘Knights’ when I was in our school.”

“Understandable,” the lord of the ghouls laughed. “In any case, I’ll cut to the chase, laddie. How can my clan help you? Is my help required by the bonnie Prince himself?”

“Clan?” the Lord Gracchio was quick to raise his objection. “As far as I know, there are only five major demon clans!”

Oi! Can ’ye shut ’yer mouth, sex demon?” the Lord Vitalis shot back. “This is our land, bampot! And if I say we’re a damn clan, then we are a damned clan! We will accept no other answer but a sweet ‘aye’!”

Judging from the Lord Gracchio’s attitude towards the ghouls, I’m afraid that we might end up offending our host. So, I took the incubus aside and said, “Milord, I know you have your disagreements with the Lord Vitalis’ statements, but we need the help of these undead.”

“Look, to become a recognized demon clan of Cherflammen, all the five major clans must agree to it. The ghouls, as far as I know, existed only to become the ‘expendable dolls’ of the Usarved nobles, good for their scientific and magical experiments. If we give them false hopes of recognition, then these diplomatic maneuvers could become complicated later on.”

Well, it’s not like I couldn’t understand what the Lord Gracchio was trying to tell me. However, I don’t believe that the ghouls should live their undead ‘lives’ as ‘fodder’ for anyone. They had their own personalities and aspirations, and as someone who was saved by them, I’d do my best to change that treatment. So, since we’re already in this ‘stage’, I told the Lord Gracchio my plans regarding the ghouls.

“You…You can’t be serious!” was his reaction.

“I am,” was my curt reply.

“But milord,” the incubus still tried to change my mind. “The Usarveds is a recognized major clan because of their military might and political clout. The Biornos because of their influence on Cherflammen’s educational system. The Goblins for their unmatched engineering techniques and industry. The Orcs for their military order and the Tambaras for their contributions in demon art and literature! What can a group of decaying flesh and dried bones do?”

“You’ll see for yourself soon…” I told him. “Trust me, I’m sure everyone in Cherflammen would later benefit from it.”


After my private talk with the Lord Gracchio…well, he was still unconvinced on the potential of the ghouls. Nevertheless, I’m pretty excited on proving him wrong. So, we went back to where we left off in the conversation with the Lord Vitalis.

“Lord Vitalis of the Ghouls,” I began. “Let me be honest. The Prince Hurion Devras does not require your help as of the moment.”

Oh? That’s strange!” he quipped. “Usually, by this time, I’m one of the first lords he’d run to. He’s quiet nowadays.”

I fell silent when I heard those words. I just couldn’t tell him what happened to the actual demon lord, the Princess Noir; recounting her story was painful for me. The good thing was, the lord of the ghouls was also in quiet meditation. So, taking opportunity of that, I changed the topic to a more pressing one…

Milord, our allied army needs your people’s help.”

The Lord Vitalis—though his face decayed long ago—was taken aback, or at least, it’s what it looked like to me. His jaw was hanging loose, and he froze like a statue, looking at my direction, after hearing my request for aid. And why not? He made it clear to me before that, while they could fight and hold on their own in battles, they’d rather spend their energies saving lives.

A seemingly trivial request, but for someone who’s knowledgeable of strategy and tactics, such sentiments can be put to good use.

“Laddie,” the lord of the ghouls recovered from his initial shock. “We’ll surely answer to your request, if it’s only for your sake. Although, if we can avoid the killin’ and save the livin’, we’d greatly appreciate it, ’ya bonnie soul.”

I couldn’t help but smile, “I understand your condition, Lord Vitalis. That’s why, if you’ll fight on our side, I’ll make sure you’ll fight by saving lives!”

The two lords looked at me as if I said an outrageous thing. The lord of the ghouls asked for more clarification on what I’m suggesting.

“When you say you’ll have us ‘fight’ by ‘saving lives’, you mean…?”

Beaming with confidence, I declared to them, “It’s time for Cherflammen to have their very first medevac!”


Once we gained the help of the ghouls, our lives went relatively easier than before.


Compared to the journey from Fangborough to the Blighted Lands, the travel between the land of the undead to the city of Goblinhom was much shorter. I heard it could be traversed for about one or two days, in demon standards, of course. I had no idea of how long a human could do it, and I don’t intend to try.

Nevertheless, we stayed in the Blighted Lands for several days, as to take a rest, resupply, and most importantly, I gave the ghouls the trainings and lectures on ‘first aid’ and ‘disaster response’, like the ones I learned from the Red Cross seminars I attended on Earth.


Yes, I’m aware that it was highly-unlikely, for the ghouls were—by appearance—looking unsanitary, and downright repulsive. However, the magic that was placed on them served like a ‘bio-chemical suit’, that separated the actual corpse from their environment. As such, they could prepare food fit for human consumption (especially me, who had the ‘weakest’ body among my group), stay around for stories (since they don’t smell), and administer first-aid that required clean hands.

Well, to be honest, I also find it weird…I mean, ghouls and zombies in my world are well-known vectors of rabid viruses.

Assigning to the undead our ‘medevac’ role was beneficial to everyone, I surmised. See, aside from they wanted to ‘save lives’—which was a big plus in my book, by the way, the ghouls were literally ‘immortal’. They could take on bullets, swords, or anything else the enemy could throw at them, and they’d still go on fulfilling their mission. The only problem I saw when I was training them was their clumsy movement (these ghouls could run), which could prove fatal to the people they were rescuing.

So, in order to offset that ‘disadvantage’, we devised plans they would put in place, depending on the situation. For example, I taught the ghouls the Roman ‘testudo’ formation, where they would surround a patient with their bodies to shield it from enemy fire. The problem of artillery would be mitigated by their undead pet dragon, Rosita, who would swoop down as close as possible to the frontlines to evacuate the victim.

Think of Rosita as the ghouls’ ‘helicopter’ or ‘aerial ambulance’ for this situation.


And of course, there’s also the infantry and cavalry in supporting role with the medevac operations.

The Lord Gracchio had no comments as he watched me train the undead in life-saving techniques. As his face always wore a frown, I couldn’t tell if the demon scholar approved of what I’m doing, or he deemed it as useless. But I guess, that he was not saying anything was a blessing in itself; at least, there’s no potential problem showing its ugly head.

Well, that’s it for the ghouls. As for our forces…

At first, the army I brought along had their reservations about the ‘disgusting’ undead. Only the few Usarved soldiers were fine with their presence, and the maids were definitely keeping their distance. However, as we spent a couple of days resting and resupplying, the attitudes eventually changed, as the ghouls—like before—were a merry bunch, and the gloomy atmosphere we had as a group vanished over mugs of ale and wine.

Even the maids are happily sharing stories with some of the undead women in the end.


Well, as long as it’s keeping the morale intact, I won’t stop these guys.

When the time came for us to move, the Lord Vitalis permitted us to use Rosita and her pilot Giraud to transport us and our supplies to the nearby Goblinhom. Like in Fangborough, the Lord Gracchio and I decided to leave a ‘token’ force, as the ghouls were wary of the ‘Knights’ supporters inside their territory. That group would be relieved in a couple of days though, as the Blighted Lands wasn’t suitable for the ‘living’ to stay in for long.

That effectively halved our already small army, but as the city of goblins was nearby in case there’s a need for reinforcements, I guess it didn’t matter much.


***The city of Helfan, personal fief of the demon lord, Hurion Devras IV***

For a while now, the city of Helfan was wrapped in tension.


Ever since the arrival of Shevaun Ilkes and the Lady Irene Capaldi, along with a small army of goblins, orcs and Usarveds, the ordinary citizens became aware of the resumption of hostilities—long frozen by a temporary truce between the demon lord, and his brother, the Lord Haya. The Usarved students that came with them also shared stories of the terrible bombardments, and the combined hailstorm, sandstorm, thunderstorm and whirlwinds that destroyed and killed many of those who escaped the enemy artillery fire.

And so, with the constant threat of a Biorno attack on Helfan, Lady Shevaun organized its defenders. Together with the allied force with her, the militia beefed up the city’s defenses in anticipation of a possible assault. Shevaun also decided to dug in and wait; compared to Goblinhom, Orcdwelt, Fangborough and Darkmoor, Helfan was relatively isolated to the north. For the reinforcements from the main Usarved city to reach them, that army would either take the road of Darkmoor-Fangborough-Saint’s Tower, which would march them straight to the Biorno lair, or the shorter, but dangerous, trek following the shores of Westshore to the east.

Another option will be to take the ship from Darkmoor, then sail close to the land, then dock at the port of Helfan. However, Shevaun doubts if the Usarveds has enough ship to even transport a regiment via sea.

So, not wishing to leave Helfan undefended, the demon chamberlain opted to remain in the city. As Lady Irene was disowned and expelled by her clan, the succubus lady had no choice but to stay with her as well.


After all, the Lord Greg and their allies can wait in Goblinhom. For now, Shevaun sent messengers to Darkmoor, to update her mistress, the Princess Noir, of the developments in the city of the Saint’s Tower.


However, a few days after the messenger left, he returned with a Tambara clan representative, and some news.

“Milady,” the Usarved envoy reported, “I met this Tambara emissary on the road to Darkmoor, and he brings message from their clan elders and the Lord Greg.”

“News for the Lord Greg!” Lady Capaldi exclaimed. “Let us hear it then!”

“First, the Lord Greg wishes to inform you of their safe arrival in Fangborough. Second is that they are now marching to Goblinhom as we speak. And third…” the Usarved envoy took a glance on the Tambara emissary before continuing. “Err, the…the city of Darkmoor has fallen to the Lord Haya’s forces,”

“What do you mean?” Shevaun couldn’t believe what she just heard, she asked the messenger to repeat his words.

But this time, it was the Tambara diplomat who answered, “Usarved lady, the human lord has sent me to pass the news to you. Before I left Fangborough, there came two maids from Darkmoor, saying that they were attacked by elves under the command of the demon lord Haya, and that he took over Castle Darkmoor after deposing his sister.”

Shevaun fell silent. She expected that Princess Noir would send her weekly correspondences to the Conclave, so it’s a given that they would miss out on each other, with her evacuating to Helfan. What Shevaun wasn’t prepared for was the eventuality that her mistress was deposed by her brother. As the reality slowly sunk into her mind, she realized of the severity of their situation, yet she couldn’t do anything…

With the downfall of Princess Noir, the allied clans of Cherflammen can expect no help from the House Usarved.


And with their clan—at least half of it—out of the picture, the war will only be prolonged.

If possible, the demon chamberlain would rush to her mistress’ side, but common sense dictated that it won’t be practical. Their forces were battered and needed rest for the meantime. The militias of Helfan were only good for defending the city, not for military offensives against the best of the Usarved armies, stationed in Darkmoor. And it would take time to re-arm and resupply whatever soldiers from the allied clans Shevaun had in her command.

Meanwhile, Lady Irene spoke to the Tambara envoy, “Any other news from the Lord Greg?”

“The human lord has delivered the Biorno armies its first defeat in this conflict by ambushing them near our city. And he is asking the Usarved lady to put pressure on the demon lord’s forces; he says he’s planning something to save the Usarved princess.”

“Put pressure?” the succubus was surprised. “And how do we supposed to do that? We’re isolated, and we only got a few soldiers with us!”

“I know what the Lord Greg means…” it was Shevaun. She turned to the Tambara emissary and said, “Alright, send a message to the Lord Greg in Goblinhom. Tell him that I’ll attack Darkmoor from the north, so he can save our princess. I’ll leave Helfan and the rest of our army to you, Lady Capaldi. As for me, I’m taking the Usarved soldiers with me, and march down to our home.”

Huh? But you just said that the land between this place and Darkmoor is dangerous! How will you march south?”

“Of course, it’s an impossibility,” the demon chamberlain replied. “That’s why, we’re heading towards that direction. The idiot, the Lord Haya, would not expect us to come from there. But first, we’ll have to arrange for our supplies.”