The Missing Relic

After the demon king's defeat, the rest of the demon kin were sealed.

Or so the records claim. In reality, that couldn't be further from the truth. Sealing all the demons was practically impossible-heroic as he was, the hero could only do so much.

He only managed to seal away the strongest of the demons. As for the weaker ones? They slipped through the cracks, like sneaky little cockroaches. Thus, those spared from the sealing banded together, forming their own alliance, each demon with a part to play.

Allida was one of those crafty survivors.

Three hundred years have passed since then. These days, Allida is undercover at the church, posing as a nun for the last decade. Her job? Keep an eye on the relic and the vessel and ensure the prophecy of the hero's return never comes to fruition.

For now, the church was busy training the vessel, so Allida mostly spent her time gathering intel.

Occasionally, she'd try to destroy the relic, or at the very least smuggle it out in thick cloth. Each time, like clockwork, she'd fail spectacularly.

And then, one fateful day, she made her gravest mistake yet: eating dairy.

Allida, lactose intolerant, was now trapped in the church bathroom. As she clutched her stomach in agony, she cursed her weakness. "How could a demon like me be taken down by cheese of all things?" she groaned.

"Allida, are you okay?" her very concerned friend Uren asked from outside the bathroom.

"I-I'll be fine!" Allida replied weakly, gritting her teeth through yet another painful stomach cramp.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally staggered out of the bathroom, her legs wobbly, but her pride somehow intact. "Let's get back to work," she muttered, pretending that she hadn't just spent an hour waging war with dairy products. They returned to their duties, promising to catch up later.

Allida would not fail. In five years, as per the prophecy, the demon king would return. And with no hero to stop them, humanity would fall. These pitiful creatures would perish. On that glorious day, Allida already had plans. She'd keep Uren as a pet, of course. Why not? He was loyal, like a puppy. Ah yes, puppies. When all the humans are gone-except for Uren-all the puppies in the world will belong to Allida.

So far, Allida knows she had done well for herself. She'd successfully made human friends, blended into human society, gathered piles of intel, and prepared several failsafes to assassinate the vessel when the time was right. With these meticulous plans, failure was impossible.

She smirked at the thought of the bright, demon-ruled future. Everything was going perfectly.

But as she returned to the chamber where the relic was stored, her smirk vanished, her heart sank to her stomach.

The relic—The Relic—was gone.

Frantically, Allida tore through every inch of the chamber, hoping against hope it had simply rolled into a corner. But no, there was no sign of it.

Chaos erupted in the church. No one knew what had happened to the relic, and panic spread like wildfire. Allida felt the weight of impending doom.

The relic was missing. The prophecy was in danger. And Allida's foolproof plans? Teetering on the edge of absolute disaster.

________

Maria awakens to the sound of birds chirping. He rolls over, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping for just a few more minutes of rest. But eventually, with a groan, he pushes himself up, immediately missing the comfort of lying down. Sitting upright, he stretches, feeling the soreness in his muscles. As his mind fully wakes up, the reality of the day ahead hits him-*another long day of walking.*

He grimaces and lets out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"This early in the morning, and you're already losing your sanity?"

*Of course,* Enanon's morning isn't complete without throwing an insult his way.

Maria feels his eye twitch, resisting the urge to snap back. He swallows the retort, releasing a frustrated breath before getting up, stomping away to handle his morning routine.

That was when, he hears something unbelievable.

"Good morning."

Maria whips his head toward Enanon so fast he nearly loses balance. Did Enanon just wish him a *good morning*? A *polite* greeting? Did the sun rise from the west today? Where are the flying pigs?

Frozen, Maria watches as Enanon pauses his workout and looks at him, waiting.

A few seconds pass in awkward silence before Maria blurts, "Uh... what is it?"

"I wished you a good morning, therefore I expect a reply in kind."

Still stunned, Maria automatically responds, "Oh, uh... good morning."

Satisfied, Enanon nods and returns to his routine as if nothing unusual had happened.

Maria, still bewildered, casts a final confused glance at his divine companion before going about his business. *Maybe I'm not the one losing my sanity today.*

Now, they're back on the road, though it's not the main road anymore. No, that would've been too easy. The path now snakes through an excruciatingly difficult terrain, courtesy of Enanon's idea of a "shortcut" to Ala.

Maria should've burned that map the moment they bought it. If he had, he might've avoided this uphill hell. Instead, he finds himself trudging up a seemingly endless incline, his feet dragging through uneven ground that threatens to break both his spirit and his legs. The climb isn't impossibly steep, but it's relentless, sapping his energy with every step.

The dirt path winds through clusters of tall, silent trees whose cool shadows offer brief, fleeting relief from the afternoon sun. His legs burn-*honest to god* burn-like that one time he'd leapt into a bush of stinging nettles during a getaway. That had ruined his mood for days. Now, with each step, the pack on his back feels heavier, its contents clinking and rustling- nothing but freeloaders hitching a ride on poor Maria's shoulders.

And it was so damn quiet. Nothing but the sound of his own labored breathing, the rustling of his pack, and the steady crunch of sandals against dirt. His divine companion, Enanon, was unnervingly silent. Just like those torturous two weeks they'd spent as roommates, where Enanon's mouth only ever opened to complain about Maria or make some snide remark before shutting tight again. As much as Maria had hated that, this... this was hell. At least back at the inn, he'd been sprawled out on a bed, bored but comfortable. Now, his mind was a mess of desperation, *please let this day end already*, but judging by the sun's position, there was a long way to go.

He wanted to talk-no, he *needed* to talk. To complain, to whine, anything to break the silence. But all he could manage were grunts, huffs, and half-formed curses that fizzled out into heavy breaths before he could finish them. It was a miracle that he's somehow still keeping up with Enanon.

______________________

It was no miracle that the human was still keeping up. Enanon has been deliberately pacing himself to avoid leaving the glacially slow human behind.

The sound of the thief's wheezing reaches his ears and it brings a faint smirk to Enanon's lips. At least now, he was free from the incessant chatter.

For the past two days, including this morning, the human continued to shower Enanon with his endless barrage of babbling. Those two miserable weeks at the inn had been filled with Maria's persistent attempts at conversation-attempts that Enanon had made very clear he had no interest in. Ignoring him worked for the most part, but since they'd begun their journey, Maria had ramped up his storytelling as if his very survival depended on it.

It wasn't just foolishness that the human had in spades, it was also stamina. Which is good for any other situation- but the human, being the fool he is, decided to spend it on telling Enanon all about his feats in thievery.

Enanon didn't need to hear this glorified confession of sins, delivered by the filthy human with an air of pride so thick it was nauseating. The thief was practically basking in his own vanity, recounting tales of theft with the enthusiasm of a child showing off a shiny new toy.

It was almost enough to make Enanon question his decision to become a god. It was the duty of gods after all to listen to the prayers and confessions of humans. Still, "almost". Enduring the yapping of humans perpetually might be the drawback of the position but Enanon must achieve godhood no matter what. If enduring the endless jabbering of humans was the cost of godhood, well... perhaps that was the price he'd have to pay. After all, he wants the power, the security.

However, as of now, Enanon was no god.

And he refuses to tolerate the human's babbling any longer. That was the moment inspiration struck.

Enanon took the map and plotted an alternative route to Ala. The map was detailed, with contours marking mountains, slopes, and valleys, symbols showing rivers and forests. Humans had come far in mapping their world, thanks to the wisdom imparted by gods and divine beings. Maria should be grateful to be walking in the presence of one.

But gratitude was not something Enanon expected from the human. What he did expect was silence-and to get that, he selected the most grueling, uphill path he could find. One that would undoubtedly drain the human's energy and, with it, his ability to speak.

The moment they started their ascent, Maria's chatter began to dwindle. With every step, the stories became shorter, the pauses longer, until finally... blessed, peaceful silence.

Enanon smiled to himself, savoring the stillness.

___________________

Maria finally crests the top of the hill, his legs aching like they've been through a meat grinder. But at least it's over-*finally* over. The relentless uphill trek had been nothing short of torture, every step feeling like a new form of hell. Now, standing at the peak, he's greeted with a view that almost makes the suffering worth it.

The landscape sprawls out before him, a patchwork of rolling hills and valleys, with dense forests dotting the horizon like islands in a sea of green. Farther off, jagged mountains rise into the distance, their snow-capped peaks glowing softly under the late afternoon sun. A narrow river snakes through the valley, glistening like a silver thread. Below, the path winds down the slope, weaving through small clusters of trees before disappearing into the thicker forest. The golden light of the setting sun bathes everything in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the landscape.

Maria catches his breath, hands on his knees, savoring the scene for just a moment. He glances at Enanon, who remains utterly composed, completely unaffected by the grueling hike.

"Hey," Maria says between gasps, "Since we're past the worst of it, how about you give me a hand? Carry my pack the rest of the way?"

Enanon doesn't break stride, continuing forward with his usual grace. "No."

Maria blinks, caught off guard by the flat rejection. "Seriously? After all we've been through, you can't do me this one favor?"

Enanon slows, casting a cool glance over his shoulder. "I fail to see why I should concern myself with the consequences of your lack of endurance."

They walk through a grassy field, heading toward the river marked on the map. The sun is setting on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape, while a soft breeze stirs the tall grass. After the grueling hike, Maria allows himself to relax, his mind finally clear, his body buzzing pleasantly from the exhaustion.

For once, even Enanon seems to share the peaceful atmosphere. To Maria's surprise, no insults have come his way for the past hours-even during his pathetic huffing and puffing up the hill. Not a single jab except just now. It's... kind of nice. Weird, but nice.

The sound of evening critters and wildlife soon fades into the soft swish of the river. Stepping into a clearing, Maria can't help but admire the beauty of the scene-the river catching the last of the sun's rays, the gentle ripple of the water. He picks a smooth rock to sit on, setting his pack down with a heavy sigh. Sprawling out on the rock, Maria lets his body sink into the comfort of doing absolutely nothing. He knows he should start a fire, that thought poking at the back of his mind. But he's too preoccupied with enjoying the moment-his muscles finally at rest, the cool breeze against his skin.

With half lidded eyes, he sees Enanon in the background. The red haired man silently shifts into his wolf form and leaps into the river. Maria barely registers the splash, far too content basking in the moment. The rhythm of the river, the cool air, the soft hum of distant wildlife-it all lulls him deeper into his relaxed state. Maybe I'll get to the fire later, he muses lazily, stretching his arms over his head. Or maybe not.

Moments later, Enanon returns, a large fish clamped in his massive jaws. He makes eye contact with Maria, who's still sprawled lazily on the rock. Enanon lets out a disapproving huff before shifting back to his human form. Without speaking, he starts the fire Maria should have made and begins cooking the fish over it. The scent of roasting fish fills the clearing, making Maria's stomach rumble loudly.

He finds himself drawn to the fire, stomach growling loudly. Just as he reaches out to grab one of the cooked fish, Enanon slaps his hand away with a glare.

"You did not contribute anything to the preparation of this meal, human. Therefore, you have no right to partake in it."

Maria rubs his hand, incredulous. "Oh, that's why you gave me that disapproving look earlier."

Enanon's stoic face remains unmoved. "Yes."

Maria groans dramatically, plopping back onto the rock. "Fine, fine. I'll just starve over here. Don't mind me."

Enanon doesn't bother with a response. Instead, the only sound Maria hears is the unmistakable crunch of a bite being taken. And he just sat there, his hunger intensifying by the second. In the end, his dinner was only a cup of water, two pieces of dry bread and bitter feelings.