Arielle's Midway Interrogation

As dawn broke over the horizon, Damien and Aquila descended gracefully in front of Westmont's gate.

The town bore the scars of its recent encounter with the demonic forces. Rubble and debris were scattered across the streets, and several homes still smoldered faintly from fires that had been extinguished in haste.

The devastation was a grim reminder of the battle that had taken place here—half of which Damien knew he was responsible for during his clash with the Grade Two demon.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Damien dismounted from Aquila, his boots crunching softly against the gravel.

The two guards stationed at the gate immediately straightened at the sight of him, their hands snapping to their foreheads in a salute.

"Mercenary Damien," one of them said, his voice steady despite the fatigue visible on his face.

Damien gave them a small, tired smile and nodded. "Good work holding things together," he said. "Carry on."