Chapter 61: The Demon’s Judgment

"In a world ruled by darkness, even a demon's justice can shine brighter than a false hero's mercy."

The village lay under a heavy, unnatural silence. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and damp earth, a sharp contrast to the distant echoes of life that once thrived in this forsaken place. Now, it was nothing more than a stronghold for demons, their presence woven into every brick and street.

Two figures moved through the narrow alleyways, their bodies concealed beneath coffee-colored cloaks that shielded them from prying eyes. Arsh and Arjun walked with measured steps, their breathing steady, their senses sharp. Beneath the layers of fabric, their hands remained close to their weapons, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.

The village was a ghost of what it once was. Wooden stalls, now broken and abandoned, lined the streets. Crude banners bearing unfamiliar demonic symbols fluttered weakly in the wind. The few humans they spotted scurried about with hollow expressions, avoiding eye contact, their fear palpable. Their oppressors—tall, monstrous figures clad in dark armor—stood at various checkpoints, their eyes scanning the streets for any sign of defiance.

"We need to stay out of sight," Arjun whispered, his voice barely audible.

Arsh gave a slight nod. Their mission was clear: locate Bhargav's old friend, gather information on Atharv's release, and leave undetected. But in a village swarming with demons, that was easier said than done.

As they neared the central marketplace, a chilling roar erupted from a large structure in the distance. Arsh and Arjun exchanged glances before slipping behind a crumbling stone wall. They peered around the edge, their eyes locking onto the massive, circular arena that dominated the far end of the village.

The structure was ancient, its towering stone walls marred with cracks and battle scars. Inside, the ground trembled with the force of ongoing combat. Cheers and cries of agony mingled with the clang of steel against steel. A massive crowd had gathered—demons of all shapes and sizes, their eyes burning with excitement as they watched warriors battle for their survival.

"The Demon Arena…" Arjun muttered.

Arsh's jaw clenched. He had heard stories of this place. Humans captured by demons were forced to fight either against each other or against creatures far beyond their abilities. Survival was a luxury few could afford.

Just then, a loud voice boomed across the arena. "Our next battle begins now! Witness the might of your Vice Captain—Kriden!"

A hush fell over the crowd, then an eruption of cheers followed.

Arsh tensed at the name. Kriden… the young demon soldier from Atharv's time.

They moved closer, slipping into the shadows as they peered through the iron grates lining the perimeter of the arena. A lone figure stood in the center of the battlefield. He was tall and imposing, his body clad in dark, battle-worn armor. Jagged scars ran down his exposed arms, and his piercing yellow eyes burned with an intensity that sent a chill through the air.

Kriden's presence was suffocating, a testament to his power. But Arsh knew that it hadn't always been this way. He had once been just another soldier—one of many in the demon ranks during Atharv's time. That was before everything changed.

Before he unlocked his true ability.

Arsh's fingers instinctively curled into a fist. This mission had just become far more dangerous than he had anticipated.

A lone figure—his silhouette sharp against the dusty sunlight—stood in the center of the bloodstained arena. His dark armor bore deep cuts from countless battles, and his eyes burned with an intensity that sent a hush over the crowd. Kriden.

The roaring cheers of demons filled the air, a frenzied chant of his name shaking the very foundation of the arena. Across from him, a human warrior barely stood, his body trembling from exhaustion. His once-proud stance had withered, his breathing labored.

The fight had been brutal. The ground beneath them was cracked from the sheer force of Kriden's attacks. The demon vice captain moved like a shadow, his presence suffocating. It was clear—the human had no chance.

Arsh, hidden behind the iron grates, watched in silent fury as the fight unfolded.

The warrior attempted to strike again, gripping his rusted sword with trembling hands. With a desperate cry, he lunged, but Kriden sidestepped effortlessly, his movements precise. A cruel smirk played across his lips before he drove his fist into the man's gut. A sickening crunch echoed through the arena as the human was lifted off the ground, his body twisting in agony before crashing onto the dirt.

Silence.

The crowd erupted into laughter and applause. The match was over. The warrior lay motionless, blood pooling beneath him.

Arsh's hand moved instinctively to his weapon. His breath quickened. His body tensed. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to jump over the barrier and stop this madness.

His foot shifted forward—

But a firm hand gripped his arm.

"Don't," Arjun whispered sharply, pulling him back. His voice was calm but urgent. "Not now."

Arsh clenched his teeth. "He's slaughtering people for sport."

"I know," Arjun said. "But rushing in without knowing the full extent of his strength is reckless. We need information first."

A burst of laughter caught their attention. Just a few feet away, a human stood among the demon spectators, cheering along with them. Unlike the other enslaved villagers, this man showed no fear.

Arsh narrowed his eyes and approached him. "Why are you cheering for the demon?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

The man turned, eyeing Arsh with mild amusement. "Because he earned it," he said simply.

Arsh's jaw tightened. "What do you mean?"

The man leaned back against the wall, his expression unreadable. "Kriden wasn't always like this. He used to be just another young soldier in the demon ranks—powerful, but nothing extraordinary. That was until he fought a certain man."

Arsh stilled. "Who?"

The man's smile grew. "A warrior with the power to manipulate soil and water. A human. One of Atharv's old companions."

Arjun's eyes widened. "Atharv's friend?"

The man nodded. "Their battle changed everything."

Arsh and Arjun exchanged glances. This was unexpected.

"Tell us," Arsh demanded. "What happened in that fight?"

The man's gaze flickered to the arena, where Kriden stood victorious, basking in the cheers of the crowd. Then he turned back to Arsh.

"You really want to know?" he asked, his voice laced with intrigue. "Then listen carefully. That fight was unlike anything this arena had ever seen…"

Arsh's mind raced as he absorbed the man's words. A warrior with the power to control soil and water—a friend of Atharv. If this warrior had fought Kriden and changed him, then he must have been strong.

Arsh took a step closer to the man, his voice firm but laced with curiosity. "The one who fought Kriden… he won, right?"

The man exhaled, crossing his arms as he looked toward the sky. "Yes, he won."

"Then where did he disappear?" Arsh pressed. "Do you know more about Atharv's companions?"

The man's expression darkened slightly. "No one knows where he went after that fight. He vanished."

Arsh's brows furrowed. "Vanished?"

The man nodded. "After defeating Kriden, he didn't stay. He left the arena, and no one saw him again. Some say the demons took him. Others believe he left on his own."

Arsh's grip on his cloak tightened. If this warrior had the strength to defeat Kriden, he could be a valuable ally in their mission. But if he had been captured, things were more complicated.

Arsh studied the man in front of him. Something about him felt… off. He wasn't like the other villagers—his posture was too composed, his tone too controlled.

"Who are you?" Arsh asked, his eyes narrowing.

The man smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just a commoner."

Arsh wasn't convinced. "A commoner who lost in the demon arena?"

The man let out a quiet chuckle. "That's right. I fought, and I lost. Now I live among the others here."

Arjun, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "If you lost, then why do you speak so highly of Kriden? He's a demon, isn't he?"

The man's expression shifted slightly, a mix of bitterness and acceptance in his gaze. "Because Kriden is different from the rest."

Arsh and Arjun exchanged glances.

The man continued, "He is still a demon, make no mistake. He is cruel, relentless, and strong. But unlike the others, he has a sense of fairness. When disputes arise in this village, Kriden delivers true and just judgment."

Arsh frowned. "That doesn't sound like a demon."

The man sighed. "You don't understand. This village was far worse before Kriden took over. The previous demons in charge were ruthless—they killed for sport, tortured for fun. The one who fought Kriden, the man you asked about, was not a good person. He was terrifying. He didn't care about the people here—he was a murderer, someone who killed innocent villagers without hesitation."

Arsh's eyes widened slightly. "Then… Kriden actually protected the people?"

The man shook his head. "Protected? No. He still rules with an iron fist. But when it comes to serious matters, he doesn't kill without reason. If someone is innocent, he lets them go. If someone is guilty, he punishes them accordingly. Compared to the other demons in this village, Kriden is… not as bad."

Arjun crossed his arms. "So, you're saying he's still a monster, but a fair one?"

The man nodded. "Exactly."

Arsh's mind spun with this new information. A demon who ruled but didn't blindly kill? A warrior who defeated Kriden but vanished? And now, this village—trapped in the grasp of demons, yet not completely lost to chaos.

There was more to this place than met the eye.

Arsh exhaled and glanced toward the arena, where Kriden stood tall, basking in his victory. If Kriden truly had a sense of fairness, then perhaps there was a way to use that to their advantage.

But first, he needed to learn more.

Arsh turned back to the man. "Tell me everything you know about this village. And about Kriden."

The man smiled again, this time with a glint of amusement. "Now that… is a long story."

[End of Chapter 61]