Chapter 118

Mincs let out a long sigh and collapsed onto the ground like a deflating balloon. "I did it!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms and legs on the cobblestones like a child who had just finished her homework. "I beat a demon!"

Two people rushed toward her in a panic. "Lia!" Mar exclaimed, kneeling down beside her. "Are you okay?" Even asked, doing the same.

Mincs looked up at them with a triumphant smile, giving them both a thumbs-up. "I'm perfectly fine. I just got stabbed through the chest, so it's no big deal," she said smugly.

"You're definitely not fine!" Even snapped, causing Mincs to falter.

"But—but it's just a stab wou—" she began, but Mar cut her off sharply. "Stop acting like you're okay!"

Mincs shrank under their voices. "But I'm really okay, though," she murmured.

Even ignored her words and leaned in close to inspect her wound, his expression quickly turning to shock. "What the hell?" he muttered.

"What's wrong?" Mar asked, also inspecting Mincs's wound. He too was taken aback. The stab wound was still there as it should be, yet Mincs had completely stopped bleeding despite what should have been a fatal injury.

"How is this possible?" Mar muttered, reaching out to touch Mincs's wound.

Before they could examine further, Mincs smacked both of them in the face, exclaiming, "Give me space!" She stood up effortlessly, showing no signs of exhaustion. Her strength and vitality were astonishing, given her injury.

Meanwhile, Xain let out a sigh of relief, grateful that his gamble had paid off. "This has gone according to your plan, I assume?" he heard the demon ask from behind him. Turning to face it, Xain gave a nod.

"Yeah," he said, massaging his injured forearm. "I noticed that despite her lying in a pool of blood, there wasn't nearly enough for someone who had been stabbed through the chest all the way." He continued, "And I thought I saw her breathing a little, so I took the gamble."

His gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Bilmoth. "It worked out. He—" Xain paused, looking down at the ground, "he's dead." His tone grew somber as he clutched his injured forearm tightly, as if punishing himself for causing someone's death, even if that someone was a demon who had tried to kill him.

The demon nodded at his words before placing its right hand on Xain's shoulder. "Do not grieve over his death, Xain," it advised. Xain turned to look at the demon's face. "Demons never truly die. He may no longer have his memories nor his former appearance, but he will reincarnate and begin life anew. Whether that life is filled with sin or virtue is up to him. Nevertheless, do not punish yourself. It is an unhealthy way to deal with such things."

Xain shut his eyes tightly, taking in the demon's words before opening them back up. With a small nod, he eased the tight clutch on his forearm. He still didn't know how to feel about Bilmoth's death, but he knew what the demon said was true. There was no point in hurting himself.

Orian cast a cold gaze over everyone, especially lingering on Mincs and Xain. *Disgusting,* he thought, *Both of you are revolting, deserving the worst of deaths.* Deep in his heart, he was accumulating a deep hatred for the two. They did not fit his vision, behaving in ways that disgusted him. He had known they were like this but not to such a disturbing extent. Clutching his saber tightly, he prepared to slice them apart with blades of wind. 

Before he could act, a roar pierced the skies and shook the ground beneath their feet. All eyes turned to the battle between the dragon and, though none of them knew, The Wandering Calamity. 

Dash, with Elanor in his arms, moved like a blur, dodging the dragon's massive claws and snapping jaws. His movements were swift and precise, his body a blur of motion as he evaded the dragon's relentless attacks. Despite holding Elanor, he was undeterred, kicking off the ground and leaping into the air to land a powerful kick on the dragon's snout. The dragon roared in fury, its enormous body thrashing wildly as Dash landed back on the ground, Elanor still securely in his grasp.

*That's right,* Even thought, aiming his palm toward the dragon. *This isn't over.*

*Not yet,* Mar thought, clutching his mace.

*I still have yet to end the one responsible for this,* Mincs thought, readying to infuse her weapon with magic.

*I still can't do anything to you, but your defeat is inevitable,* Xain thought, glaring at the dragon.

*Sigh, this entire trip was a mistake,* Orian thought, narrowing his eyes on the dragon.

They all readied themselves to face the dragon, most literally, one figuratively, but they were all ready, feeling compelled to join the fight despite the overwhelming odds. It was a nonsensical urge, but in the face of demons and the chaos they brought, sense itself seemed to lose its meaning.

As they all braced themselves to face the dragon, a loud crash diverted their attention. They turned to see a section of the third-floor wall and window of the mansion crumble, and two figures plummet to the ground. The first spun mid-air, shooting a beam of light from her palms before snapping her fingers to blink safely to the ground. The second rolled just before hitting the cobblestones, digging the serrated claws of his gauntlets into the ground to slow his momentum.

"Grace!" Xain exclaimed, recognizing the white-haired, silver-eyed woman immediately. Almost all of them recognized Grace; three even feared her to some extent. The second figure was a mystery to everyone—except one.

"And, The Fiend!? What the heck are you doing here!?" Xain shouted, his voice tinged with shock and fear. 

*The Fiend!* Everyone, save for the demon, thought in astonishment. One of the most wanted and dangerous criminals in Aetheria stood before them. Confusion and unease rippled through the group. The Fiend turned his masked face toward Xain, and although his features were hidden, Xain could sense a strange relief in his posture.

"Looks like you guys dealt with your little issue," Grace remarked, glancing briefly at Bilmoth's corpse before turning her attention back to the broken wall from which they had been thrown. The Fiend maintained his gaze on Xain for a solid five seconds before shifting his focus back to the mansion, prompting the others to follow suit.

*What could be so strong that it threw her out the window?* Orian wondered, his gaze fixed on the shattered wall. 

A man in noble attire, with ear-length orange hair and rose-red eyes, stepped out and gracefully descended to the ground. He landed with ease and surveyed the group with a thin, malevolent smile, sending shivers down the spines of those seeing him for the first time. The demon narrowed its eyes at the newcomer, cold anger simmering beneath its otherwise composed exterior. It was only a matter of time until this happened, until the Demon Lord appeared himself to end it all.