The Calcite Chronicles: The Thief

Chapter 20:

I stared in disbelief as the statue of Vitara, now alive, surveyed the gathered villagers.

“Oh, mighty Vitara! Thirty-three days past, on the day of your birth, you led this mortal to us.” Vorlexia declared, keeping her facade, her eyes locking onto mine. “Now, we offer him as your sacrifice. Accept this tribute and bestow us your divine blessings!”

With a casual wave of her hand, Vorlexia signaled two men from the crowd to step forward. They carried an enormous blade, or was it actually a knife of a size suited for a being as immense as the statue?

The blade was unique, its triangular form catching the moonlight as a diagonal line of woven gold ran across its surface. As I watched, I suddenly realized something looked familiar. Held upright, the golden line, combined with the shape of the blade, formed the unmistakable symbol of Vorlexia.

Everything clicked into place, and I was reminded there were no gods here. Only demons. Some were humans that acted like ones. While others were quite the literal ones. This supposed “Vitara” was nothing more than a creation of Vorlexia’s magic. I was sure of it.

The stone Vitara, now wielding the massive sacrificial knife, stood watching the villagers in silence. Their murmurs, hushed but distinct, revealed that this behaviour was unusual.

Without warning, Vitara’s stillness shifted to fury. In a one swift, lethal motion, she struck down the two men who had presented her with the sacrificial knife. Their upper bodies were cleanly severed, while their legs left standing eerily in place.

I was left stunned. Why would Vorlexia do this? She was controlling the statue - why would she just kill her followers?

Panic ensued among the villagers as Vorlexia attempted to regain control. “Calm down! Everyone, calm down!” She shouted. “Mother was displeased with this year’s ritual. You must admit, it was not the cleanest execution. But don’t worry! Now that the price for our incompetence had been paid, she will proceed with the sacrifice.”

As the villagers began to calm, the stone Vitara did the unthinkable. She suddenly lifted her massive foot and brought it down, crushing Vorlexia beneath it.

Chaos erupted once again. Villagers scattered in every direction. Some screaming in terror, convinced that Vitara was enraged with them, while others cried out for forgiveness, pleading for mercy.

What was happening?

Vorlexia had been controlling the statue…or so I thought. Why had it attacked her? Had I been wrong? I remembered her mentioning that she had met Vitara personally…Could this be a manifestation of the real Vitara? Enraged at seeing an archdemon exploit her name to commit such atrocities, had she descended from the heavens to deliver divine judgement?

The chaos around me intensified. The statue rampaged through the fleeing villagers, cutting down everyone in her path. The air was filled with terrified screams, and the planned joyous festival had transformed into a gruesome massacre.

Amidst the bloodshed, Belferon, driven by rage, lunged at me. He pinned me to the ground, his fists raining down in fury. I struggled to defend myself, my hands still bound by the rope. The pain from my injuries, coupled with the dislocated shoulder, made every movement, and punch that landed, agonizing.

As he berated me, he shouted angrily. “I don’t know what you did, but it’s your fault! You made her like this!”

“You old fool!” I shouted back at him. “You were never serving Vitara! Vera is an archdemon! You served an archdemon all this time!”

He ignored my words as he continued his assault. Then, in a moment of revelation, he declared. “I know what to do. I must take you to Vitara. She will strike you down as it was always intended! And then – finally - I’ll regain my youth!”

Panic surged within me at his words. With my hands still tied, I frantically attempted to resist, knowing that being brought closer to the enraged Vitara would mean my demise.

Belferon dragged me across the chaotic square toward the rampaging Vitara, and my struggles grew more desperate. The rough ground scraped against my back, and the frantic sounds of chaos surrounded us. Glancing ahead, I saw the statue, her fury directed at the fleeing villagers, still unaware of our presence.

With my heart racing even faster, I continued fighting back. I kicked out at Belferon, aiming at his hands. After several blows, he finally lost his grip on my feet. But my small victory enraged him even more. He suddenly retrieved a knife beneath his dark-red gown and drove it into my leg. Searing pain shot through me, and before I could react, he twisted the blade and yanked it free, sending another wave of pain coursing through my body.

Gasping for breath, I kicked at him wildly, refusing to give up, managing to knock him off balance. He stumbled backward. The knife slipping from his grasp as he fell.

I was free from him, so I crawled toward the knife, but Belferon recovered quickly. He grabbed my feet again, trying to drag me back toward Vitara. Despite his efforts, he lost his grip and collapsed once more. I turned to see him clutching his right ankle, which appeared swollen, perhaps even broken.

“Curse this old body!” he spat in frustration, then turned his rage back to me. “And curse you, Luca! I want to live! I have reasons to live! I love this life and everything in it! I want to experience it more and more! Is that so wrong? No! You are what’s wrong! You’re nothing but a waste of oxygen! How are you any different from the cattle we slaughter for food? You’re no different! You don’t deserve to live!”

His words only ignited my determination. “You know nothing about me!” I grunted, crawling toward the knife. “Your view of life is twisted and sick!”

“My view gives life purpose!” he shouted back, still clutching his swollen ankle. “To live is to experience everything! To enjoy every moment, big or small! When have you ever truly enjoyed anything in your life? Never! You are undeserving of life!”

With gritted teeth, I dragged myself closer to the discarded knife. “Life isn’t that simple!” I countered. “You can’t always just enjoy it and look forward for what tomorrow brings. Circumstances don’t always allow that, but it doesn’t mean you’re not living. Struggling and figuring things out is also a part of life."

“Words of a clueless child!” His voice brimmed with anger. “You know nothing of life if that’s what you believe! That’s why it’s better off in the hands of someone who appreciates it!”

“I’m the child?” I retorted. “You’ve lived two hundred years yet you’re so ignorant! Your refusal to accept death as a part of life has driven you to murder. You’ve cut short hundreds of lives just to extend your own. And for what? To experience more of the life you so claim to cherish? You judge my will to survive, but it’s your own cowardice that you should judge! It’s that same cowardice that led you to serve the demonic Vera all these years without even knowing it!”

I finally reached the knife as I finished my words. My left arm, rendered practically useless by my dislocated shoulder, left me relying on my right one to begin cutting through the rope binding my hands. The knife slipped a few times, but I regained my grip and pressed on.

“You’re wrong! She’s not a demon!” Belferon shouted, though he sounded hesitant. “And even if she was, who cares? She gave me my youth back twice already! I don’t care what she is!”

His words revealed a man too far gone, beyond reason, so I abandoned any attempt to persuade him further, focusing instead on cutting the rope.

Belferon’s voice, laced with bitterness, echoed again. “Your only purpose is to give me my youth back, and you can’t even do that! You should’ve died in that treasury with the rest of your crew!”

Anger simmered within me as he mentioned my friends, but it only strengthened my resolve. I was done listening to him.

Everyone had their own reason to live, and there was no single right way to go through life. I learned that from Elandor: once a thief driven by greed, later a caring figure trying to guide a group of broken kids.

I was done doubting myself. I’d continue living, continue fighting to survive. Against Belferon, against Lida, against Leon Valter, and even Alaric Belton. I would survive and find my own reasons to live and keep on living.

I glanced over my shoulder as Belferon crawled toward me on all fours, closing the gap. I felt his grip tightening on my shoulders, trying to yank me backward. His persistence, combined with my weakened state, threatened to overpower me.

I knew I had to end this. To stop him once and for all.

In a swift, almost instinctive motion, I turned, the knife in my hands finding its mark, piercing the side of his neck. The shock in his eyes pierced through me as his grip on me slackened, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. Blood gurgled from his mouth as his life was slipping away.

My heart raced as I watched him struggle on the ground. Despite everything he had done, I felt remorse. The weight of taking a life, even someone as despicable as him, left its mark on my conscience. My hands began to shake violently, the urge to vomit joining in as well.

My introspection was abruptly shattered by thunderous thuds, each step echoing through the square. I raised my gaze to find the stone Vitara looming over me, the sacrificial knife clutched in her hand. Panic tightened its grip on me as I tried to move, but my battered body refused to respond. Fear gripped me as I awaited the blade’s descent, and in my mind, I began asking for forgiveness: from Ren, from Elandor, and even from my mother.

But in a shocking twist, the statue kneeled beside the dying Belferon, plunging the knife inside his gut, practically cutting him in two. The sacrificial knife glowed with an ethereal blue hue, as if it were drawing Belferon’s very soul into it. His eyes widened in shock and despair, the last remnants of his life draining away into the blade.

The statue, having completed its task, rose once more. Its inscrutable gaze turned toward me, and for a moment, I believed I would be its next target. But then, without a word or gesture, it turned away, retracing its steps back to its original position. The giant knife clattered to the ground as the statue resumed its original pose – benevolent, unmoving, as though nothing had ever happened.

As the statue reverted to its original state, a chilling silence enveloped me. I cast my gaze around the square, met with the gruesome sight of lifeless bodies scattered across the ground. The villagers – centuries-long murderers and cannibals - were now lying lifeless.

I tried to rise from the ground, but my injured leg, wounded by Belferon’s knife, betrayed my footing, causing me to collapse once more.

I lay there for a moment, exhaustion taking over as I pondered my next course of action. My mind immediately raced to Vorlexia. Did her demise beneath the statue’s foot release me from my debt?

Then, a sudden realization hit me. Of course she hadn’t died.

An archdemon, set on reclaiming Hell, stomped by a mere statue? Impossible. This had to be part of her design. If the real Vitara had descended, her power would have been overwhelming. She was the goddess of life. Ending our lives would be second nature to her.

Everything fit perfectly into Vorlexia’s scheme. It was her last feast before returning to Hell, and the villagers – unwitting pawns rather than willing servants – had likely been just part of the plan all along. She hadn’t claimed their souls before, but perhaps now, before her grand departure, she decided to claim them.

Demons were never known for gratitude. She couldn’t feel true appreciation for those villagers, despite all they’d done for her. Their fate was sealed the moment she arrived to Vedem. She would have claimed their souls regardless, and now, with her final feast in Vedem, she likely aimed to make it as grandiose as possible.

And me? I was just another pawn in her sick game. The struggle between Belferon and me had probably filled her with endless joy.

Summoning the last of my strength, I decided to test my suspicions. “Hey, Vorlexia, you’re here, aren’t you?” I called out.

For a moment there was silence. Then, I heard it - her laughter, chilling and omnipresent, echoing from all directions.

She emerged above me from thin air in her true demonic appearance, her eerie smile wider than ever. “Why do I get the feeling that you actually believed I was smashed by that statue?”

“I did at first.” I admitted. “It looked convincing.”

She smiled, her demonic teeth glinting in the moonlight. “I had an audience to impress, so of course, I made it as convincing as I could.”

I glanced around the silent Vedem again. The villagers’ lifeless bodies were scattered everywhere - limbless, headless, or completely torn apart.

“Why did you end them like that?” I asked, a hint of an unease in my voice.

She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are those feelings of remorse I hear? Or did my ears betray me just now?”

“Of course not.” I quickly refuted. “Just wondered why you decided to treat your slaves this way. I mean, they followed you blindly for so long…”

“Wrong.” She said dismissively. “They followed Vitara for so long.” she paused, a smug smile playing on her lips. “I was merely her so-called Prophet.”

I remained silent, pondering her response.

“If they had been my followers, “ she continued with a touch of amusement, “then, of course, I would’ve been merciful…probably.”

Probably. It was such a demon-like answer.

The memory of our pact resurfaced, and I had to know the truth – whose soul she wanted in return for mine. Jhad was already out of the picture. If it was Belferon’s, then I was safe, but if it was Sona’s, I’d meet my end here as well.

“Don’t worry.” She said, as if reading my mind. “You got the right one.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a brief wave of relief, but quickly reminded myself I was dealing with an archdemon. She could’ve been lying.

“If I could lie about demonic pacts, I’d have told you right now that it was Sona’s soul I wanted.” She replied smoothly, seemingly still reading my mind. “But sadly, demonic pacts are absolute by nature. Since you were so adamant that I pick a specific person when we forged the pact, I can’t take it back now.”

Understanding the logic behind her words, I asked. “Which one of the two?”

“Belferon, of course.” She chuckled, clearly amused. “I wanted to trick you. The way I phrased my demand made him seem like such an obvious choice, but I knew you were an overthinker by nature and would second-guess it. I hoped you’d bring me both Jhad and Sona first, only to realize it was Belferon all along. That way, I’d have claimed all three souls and mentally scarred you in the process. But alas…Even though I didn’t get everything, your brawl with Sona made it all worth it! The drama, the double betrayal – just beautiful.”

Her amusement from our fight was infuriating. She had manipulated me into a situation where survival meant making unthinkable choices - expressing aggression toward people who had helped me, even if they ultimately chose to leave me behind…

Then, her expression suddenly shifted to something more serious. “Well, your soul is safe, Luca Meret.”

She used my last name - a name I hadn’t heard since my mother died. Her symbol glowed beside her and on my chest simultaneously, before dispersing, likely signaling the end of our pact.

“In the end, I was just a pawn in your game, wasn’t I?” I reflected on everything that had happened. “From the beginning, you planned on ending your feasts by devouring the souls of the villagers. They lived for hundreds of years, believing they’d never perish. You could say they were hopeful enough to increase their souls’ worth…”

She smiled, clearly enjoying my observation. “I have to say, you’re smarter than you look.”

“I get that a lot.” I replied. “Even though I don’t agree with it.”

“Have more confidence in yourself, my boy.” She said, her tone unexpectedly cheerful. “You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

“Maybe, if I can get my arm and leg working.” I muttered, wincing from the pain that still coursed through my body.

She chuckled lightly. “Here, let me help.”

Vorlexia extended her hand in my direction, and I watched as the piercing wound from Belferon’s knife healed right before my eyes. The skin and muscle knitted back together instantly, leaving only a hole in my pants as evidence that I had ever been stabbed there. My dislocated shoulder, too, was suddenly healed, moving with ease. Even the bite mark from Lida on my arm, had vanished completely.

I reached up, touching my battered face, which still ached - instantly regretting it.

Vorlexia laughed at my discomfort. “Hey, you only complained about your arm and leg.”

I sighed, unsure why I expected more from an archdemon. “You could’ve healed the rest of me too, you know…”

She grinned mischievously, winking. “Who do you take me for? A healer?”

Of course not. Her playful demeanor almost made me forget that, ultimately, she was the reason behind all my sufferings this past month.

“What about your promise?” I asked, recalling our pact. She had mentioned Alaric Belton, and now that I had survived, I wanted answers.

She chuckled. “And here I thought you’d forgotten…”

“I didn’t.” I replied firmly. “You promised you’d tell me more about Alaric Belton.”

Her grin widened, clearly amused by the situation. “What I said was that I might tell you more about him. I never said I would.”

I frowned, pushing myself up into a seated position. “That’s just a technicality. A form of speech.”

“Bet technicalities are what I live for.” She laughed.

Just as I thought that she’d outsmarted me, she suddenly spoke. “Well, I don’t want to leave you entirely empty-handed. Catch!”

Her words caught me off guard as she tossed something shiny in my direction. Reflexively, I caught it and looked down at the familiar object in my hands. It was our stolen treasure – the calcite.

I turned it over, inspecting every inch. The shape, the intricate formation, the transparent hue – it was the same calcite we had stolen. Of course, I could never be completely sure. Vorlexia’s powers defied everything I knew about magic, but it seemed authentic enough.

I looked up at her, unsure why she would give it back to me. “Why?” I asked, my voice laced with skepticism.

She looked surprised by my words. “What do you mean, why? It’s yours, isn’t it? Well, not technically yours, since it’s stolen, but you get the idea…”

“I still don’t understand why you’d give it back to me.” I admitted.

She shrugged. “I’ve grown to like you, so I thought I’d do something nice.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And the real reason?”

She laughed at my response before continuing. “Alaric Belton might be looking for it.” She said, flashing a grin. “But he’s not the only one.”

My heartbeat quickened as I slowly got to my feet. “Who else?” I asked.

“My brethren.” She answered swiftly. “I’m not entirely sure, but I suspect Alaric was using the calcite as insurance against them. Now that it’s gone, he might be in trouble.”

“Insurance from what? What does this stone even do?” I asked urgently, trying to understand the weight of what we’d stolen. Axel Bane had mentioned something similar - that Alaric was unusually nervous after we took the stone.

She chuckled. “I can’t tell you everything now, can I? Where’s the fun without a little suspense?” She paused. “Anyway, both Alaric and my family will be after you soon enough. Here in Vedem, I’ve been concealing you and the stone from the outside world. But now that I’m leaving, you’ll be vulnerable again.”

So, not only Alaric Belton but archdemons too? What had we gotten ourselves into?

“Take it, then.” I said, shaking my head. “If the price for this stone is that high, I don’t want it. I’ll find another way. We don’t need Kase to survive.”

I immediately threw the calcite at her, but she only smiled. Instead of catching it, the stone disappeared mid-air, and I felt it back in my hand.

Startled, I looked at her for answers. “I’ve bounded the stone to you.” She said, laughing maniacally. “The only way to take it from you now is by killing you first.”

“Why would you do that?” I shouted, anger boiling inside me. “I barely survived this place! In the end, the only reason I’m still alive is because you wanted it, and now you’re telling me that on top of Morthryga’s champions, I’ll have archdemons after me as well? We’ll never survive for long!”

She continued laughing. “As I said earlier – you have a bright future ahead of you. Start by getting stronger, physically and magically. Gather more minerals, sharpen your fighting skills. And most importantly - gather allies.”

“Allies?” I repeated, confused and disgusted. “After what happened here? After all the mental torment Lida and Belferon put me through? After Sona’s betrayal? No thanks. I’ll never trust a stranger again.”

She grinned. “You and Sona worked quite well together to beat Lida…Just saying.”

“I only did it because she was the better fighter, and I couldn’t beat Lida alone. And still, she betrayed me right after.”

“And yet, when it mattered, you worked together.” She countered. “My point is, your allies don’t need to be your best friends. Keep them at a distance if you must. Learn what makes them tick, and use that to your advantage so they can’t betray you. But even if none of that works, you’ll still have at least one ally.”

“Who?”

She grinned and pointed at herself. “The next queen of Hell, of course. Me.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. Having an archdemon as an ally was practically inviting a knife in the back, especially one like Vorlexia, the archdemon of insatiable hunger, who had devoured so many innocent lives over the past centuries.

“Don’t be so surprised.” She said joyfully. “I did tell you I was exiled from hell, didn’t I? Not much love left for my brethren. A lot of work ahead of me…Conquering Hell is no easy task, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend, you know?”

“Somehow, I feel like you’re just using me again.” I admitted.

She looked mockingly surprised and offended. “I would never!”

“You’re hoping that me having the calcite will reduce the resistance you’ll face in Hell since they’ll be sending forces to chase me down, aren’t you?” I threw out the wild guess, though it seemed the most logical conclusion in my head.

“Not keeping any secrets from you, huh?” Vorlexia chuckled. “You’re right, but I’m still true to my word. When the time comes, you will have an ally in me.”

I remained silent, watching her, trying to figure out if it was just another ploy. Vorlexia was a curious individual, and no matter what she said, I knew I had to always look for what she had to gain from it. Understanding her motives was key to knowing how to proceed.

Remembering Lida, I couldn’t help but ask. “What about Lida? Where is she?”

“Who knows?” Vorlexia replied with a grin that told me she definitely knew.

“She has your tourmaline, doesn’t she?” she continued, and I recalled Lida taking all of stones and rings I had - Elandor’s tourmaline being the most valuable possession I had outside of the calcite.

“Not only the tourmaline.” I corrected her.

“Only the tourmaline.” Vorlexia responded, grinning. “The rest of your possessions are in her house.”

Seeing the tension in my face, she added with a teasing tone. “Don’t worry, she’s not there waiting to jump you from behind or anything…I would never do that to you.”

So, Lida had the tourmaline when we fought…That explained her sudden disappearance. No blood on the ground because she never hit it. The only logical conclusion was that she used the tourmaline to teleport herself to safety mid-air. Wherever “safety” was for her.

“You’ll meet Lida again along your journey, I believe.” Vorlexia suddenly said, as if reading my thoughts again. “I think it will be a great moment of character development for you both when it happens.”

Again, treating me like a pawn in some grand scheme.

“But for now, I should go.” She continued, her tone almost casual. “The new queen of Hell has work to do. Time to reclaim what’s mine.”

I nodded, mostly relieved that she was leaving, as her presence constantly kept me on edge.

She smiled but paused before disappearing, adding one final remark. “Oh, by the way, I kept Ren alive for the past month, but you should really get her to a real healer as soon as possible. I’d say you have a week…or she’ll die.”

Her words struck me hard, reminding me of the dire situation Ren was still in.

“Can’t you just heal her?” I asked, panic rising in my voice. “You said you’re my ally!”

“I am,” she replied with a grin, “but I can’t be doing all the work for you. Call it tough love. You’ll thank me later.”

With that, she vanished into thin air, taking with her the corpses of all the villagers, including Belferon’s.

I was left standing alone in the eerie silence of what was left of Vedem.

***

The first thing I did after Vorlexia disappeared was to head straight to the infirmary to retrieve Ren.

I moved slowly. While Vorlexia had healed my pierced leg and dislocated shoulder, the rest of my body still screamed in pain with every step. As I passed by Vitara’s statue, half-expecting it to come to life and finish me off, it remained motionless. Its arms were still held in a welcoming gesture, its face frozen in the warmest of smiles.

As I neared the infirmary, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast to the chaos in the main square, where the blood of Vedem’s villagers soaked the ground. The infirmary stood untouched, as though Vorlexia had specifically commanded the statue to avoid it.

Jhad’s kneeling body was the only one Vorlexia left behind, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Perhaps there was some significance, but I didn’t dwell on it for long. His lifeless form was still clutching the door handle with his right hand, and I had to move him aside. Up close, the holes that appeared on his body were even more gruesome, and his corpse nearly fell apart as I shifted it.

As I repositioned him, I recalled the hematite ring he had taken from Walden back in the jailhouse. Figuring it might come in handy, I knelt next to Jhad to retrieve it. But, as I should have expected, the ring had lost its original color, visibly void of magic, much like Lida’s quartz ring. I briefly wondered if the ring had lost its power upon Jhad’s death or if it had failed earlier, perhaps just a bit after Walden died, catching Jhad off guard when he realized it no longer worked.

Turning my focus to the infirmary, I carefully pushed the door open, only to be met by the heavy stench of death.

Inside, the little boy and Martin’s companion, the red-haired woman named Lanny, lay motionless in their beds. Their mouths were wide open, and their eye sockets were empty. It was clear it was Vorlexia’s doing.

Ren, however, still lay in the same bed she had occupied for the past month, her face peaceful and unaware of what had unfolded outside. I approached her and knelt beside the bed, gently taking her hand in mine. To my relief, her skin was warm, and I could feel a faint but steady pulse. She was still alive, but Vorlexia’s warning echoed in my mind: I had only one week to find a high-healer.

Once again, I found myself at the starting line - desperate for a healer and uncertain of where I even was. Belferon had mentioned the village of Genehof was nearby, but could I really trust anything he had told me? For all I knew, Genehof might not even exist.

Understanding that I had little choice but to figure things out as I went along, I carefully lifted Ren from the bed, cradling her in my arms, and made my way out of the infirmary. Our next stop was Lida’s house.

***

Standing in front of Lida’s house brought back unsettling memories. It was here where she duped me for real for the first time, making my mind believe I was seeing my mother. Now, just thinking about it, about Lida being my mother, sent a wave of nausea through me, leaving an urge to vomit.

I entered the house and carefully placed the unconscious Ren on the floor, and began searching the rooms, looking for our possessions.

Meanwhile, I could hear thunder boom outside, and shortly heavy rain followed, battering the roof. The raindrops struck it as I moved through the rooms.

After a few minutes, I found our stuff. Tucked away in a drawer beside Lida’s bed were Axel Bane’s amethyst, Ren’s moonstone ring, the hematite stone and moonstone. Everything we had lost was accounted for – everything except the tourmaline ring, which I already knew was still with Lida.

The sudden sound of the entrance door creaking open sent a surge of panic through me. Ren was lying right by the entrance, and I will never get her into harm’s way ever again.

I rushed to her as quickly as I could, and there a familiar figure greeted me – Axel Bane. He looked nervous at first, scanning the room until his eyes landed on me. His expression shifted to relief as he exhaled heavily.

“Oh, thank the gods you’re okay!” He said, sounding genuinely concerned. “I came here as fast as l could.”

Seeing him was both surprising and somehow expected. He already proven his ability to track me before, but if what Vorlexia said was true, I had been concealed by her magic for the past month, explaining why he hadn’t found me until now.

He approached quickly, his eyes assessing my battered appearance. “What in the world happened to your face? You look terrible.”

I instinctively stepped back as he reached for my face, still wary of him. He immediately withdrew his hand, raising it in apology.

“Sorry. Just an instinct.” He said, his voice softening.

“What do you want?” I asked, cutting to the point.

“You disappeared for more than a month.” He explained. “I couldn’t find you anywhere, and I was getting worried…thought you might’ve ended up in Hell.”

“You could say I was.” I sighed.

He looked taken aback, clearly unsure what I meant. Vedem may not have been the Hell he was referring too, but it certainly felt like one.

His gaze shifted as he continued, his words cautious. “I saw the bloodbath outside…I assume that wasn’t your doing. But, seeing as you’re the only person left in this village, it does make me wonder where the villagers disappeared to…”

I considered telling him some of the truth - that an archdemon was involved and that his leader might have connections to Hell. But Vorlexia’s advice echoed in my mind: I needed to figure out what made people tick and exploit it. So, instead of laying my cards on the table, I decided to play it slow.

“It wasn’t my doing.” I replied, then added. “Well, except for one of them…”

“Tell me what happened.” Axel said, though his tone wasn’t demanding. He sounded concerned, but I wasn’t in a place to trust anyone so easily. Ever since I met Belferon, everyone had fooled and used me. Even Sona betrayed me, and I considered her my only ally here. I was done being left behind and led on by others.

“You tell me what you learned about your boss first.” I countered, my voice firm.

Axel looked surprised. “You seem…different from the person I spoke to a month ago.”

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much.” I replied, meeting his gaze.

“Very well, then.” He smiled slightly at that, gesturing to table and chairs nearby. “Shall we take a seat? I believe we have much to discuss.”