Sadly, after defeating the goblins, everything didn’t completely recover, nor did the broken buildings repair themselves.

Luka sat quietly, using a pile of crates as a makeshift table.

’So, most of the west, south and central entrances are destroyed.’

It would take much more than expected to repair the damage to the western and main gateways, without trained masons and workmen from the dwarven families or from Babylon’s workmen.

He paused, tapping the crude map of Amol as he sighed.

"The western gateway and defensive walls are the most important, after creating makeshift accommodation and repairing the three wells. We must start working on the wall fast, or it won’t make it in time."

’Where is Iris at a time like this?’

He kicked his legs while watching the Amol locals carrying broken rocks, charred planks and waste wood into the centre of the village, then dropping them.

It was only now that he could see the difference between those who came from the Fenix territory and the former bandits who lived here before them.

"Hey."

He called out to one of the older dwarves, slowly following after the young ones.

"Huh, you calling me?" The old man frowned, glaring at him before he seemed to realise just who called him as he straightened his back and cleared his throat. "Ah... ahem, Lord?"

"Be at ease, we’ve barely won a moment of peace." Luka waved the old man before leaning back and examining him.

The man couldn’t be called elderly, with a faint tinge of ginger remaining in his greying hair, his limbs short and yet stout with dense muscles that tensed with each movement.

"O-Of course..."

He clearly felt nervous speaking to Luka, with eyes darting to each side to avoid looking directly at him.

Luka mulled over how to win the Amol people over, bringing them to his side along with Iris, rather than a territory that had no trust in him.

"I didn’t mean to interrupt your work, but may I ask if you’ve seen Princess Iris?"

That thought was to treat Iris with deep respect in public, as the dwarves do. He would first win over the dwarves with this approach. Then target the humans with what humans liked best: money, women and battle.

"Oh!? The princess!"

Immediately, the nervous old man stood straighter and smirked through his puffy beard, tied at the base with heavy brass rings bearing an image.

An emblem, perhaps.

’Is that his family emblem?’

"She appeared to be weary after the battle, and her chambermaid suffered greatly in her stead... the poor lass..." His eyes became wet as he spoke of this mysterious Chambermaid, but Luka could gather what had happened.

’So she escaped at the cost of this maid...’

Luka paused.

He watched the old man’s reaction and somehow pictured the end of the poor girl left behind in an Amol Village overrun by goblins.

’Can I help her...?’

There wasn’t any divine magic that could heal a broken mind, something he knew all too well after fighting beside humans for so long.

That’s when a beep resonated from the back of his mind, followed by a large magenta message panel.

[Affirmative]

"What!?"

"Huh, M’Lord?" The old man appeared scared at Luka’s sudden shout.

"Nothing, forgive me, I was just thinking out loud. May I ask you to guide me to where they are? I have business with both Iris and the maid."

’In what manner can I help the maid?’

Luka couldn’t believe it.

How could there be some sort of magic or ability that fixed something even he couldn’t in the previous timeline?

He’d lost countless good men to the ailment of the mind, whether artificial from a banshee’s wailing or a vampire’s kiss. Or the natural degradation of a human when faced with constant suffering and despair.

The old dwarf hesitated briefly before nodding.

"O-Of course, Lord Luka. The princess is staying near the eastern side of the village. One of the few stone houses left standing."

Luka rose from the crate slowly.

His wounds still ached fiercely beneath the bandages wrapped around his waist and chest, though compared to before, he felt he could manage a short walk or jog.

’This body is unnatural...’

"Lead the way."

The old dwarf quickly shuffled ahead while Luka followed quietly through the damaged streets of Amol.

The deeper they walked into the village, the heavier the atmosphere became.

What surprised Luka the most were the children, though he had thought the goblins uncultured and savage beings. It seemed the children suffered only slight physical punishment, nothing more.

Though the sights of their parents and loved ones dying, being raped, and worse might’ve damaged their minds a little.

"How many people remained...?" He tentatively asked the old dwarf, considering making a census once things cleared up a little.

’It’d help with forming my future army.’

Several injured warriors rested against broken walls while local women boiled water over open fires. The scent of ash, blood and damp wood lingered everywhere. He couldn’t help but notice many of the older women seemed alright, but the younger they became, the more marks and... signs of torture remained.

"What a strong group of people."

Luka admired how they stood and resisted the despair of what had happened to them.

Maybe it was living in denial or a dream, but his admiration for these women, men and children who endured hell was far beyond the normal person.

Luka watched them carefully and remembered a part of why he grew to love humanity.

It was this side of them.

’Humanity really is persistent...’

Eventually, the old dwarf slowed before a squat stone building with a partially collapsed roof. Unlike the other structures, several guards stood nearby holding axes instead of spears.

These weren’t Amol Warriors, but pure dwarves.

Because of the short time since the Fenix clan fully transferred to Amol, crossbreeding hadn’t yet changed their local demographics, but the difference was clearer now.

The moment they noticed Luka approaching, their expressions stiffened.

But barely for a moment, before they lowered their axes and gave a light bow, not quite servile like they would their master or king, yet more than enough to honour a human noble with no links to them.

"...Lord Luka."

’Has Iris told them everything?’ He wondered.

One stepped aside reluctantly.

The old dwarf lowered his voice.

"The princess has barely left since arriving here."

Though he clearly seemed to have more to say, Luka just nodded and stepped inside.

A single lantern dimly lit the room.

He could barely make out the simple wooden furniture, the faint scent of sour, spoiled milk, and another, almost nauseating, stench.

"Ah..."

Luka gripped Oblivion tightly upon smelling.

’Damn vermin...!’

However, he took another breath, trying to relax. If he turned up with a stiff face filled with rage, it might create the worst impression on the Chambermaid.

There was a faint wail.

The soft cry of a woman much younger than he expected.

Luka’s expression slowly changed as he approached the small bedroom to the left of the kitchen and dining area. He tapped the door before gently pushing it open, and that’s when his heart sank.

Near the corner of the room sat a young woman wrapped tightly in blankets, while Iris knelt beside her helplessly. The former princess looked exhausted herself, her orange hair loose and messy, while dried blood still stained her armour.

Yet her attention never left the trembling maid.

The girl’s eyes looked empty.

Empty.

As in nothing but black orbs, lacking light, hope or even life.

When Luka entered, she didn’t react, and her breathing remained almost frozen.

"...Lord Luka?" Iris whispered tiredly.

But Luka didn’t answer immediately.

Because the strange magenta panel still lingered faintly at the edge of his vision.

[Collapse of Soul Detected]

[Compatible Sin Authority discovered]

[Would you like to proceed?]

"Luka!" Iris shouted this time, barely stirring the girl to move a little as she looked up towards the door and saw him.

"Angel?"

Ba-Dump!

Luka’s chest tightened as if the young woman’s eyes created countless invisible hands that squeezed his heart. He tried to breathe, but the sudden shock awoke thousands of memories, driving him into a momentary trance.

Her dark pupils rapidly swelled and contracted as she seemed to burst to life.

"Mildred?! What do you mean, angel? Although he’s handsome... this is my Fiancée... Hey, look, he’s Lord Luka from Babylon. The one who came to save you."

Iris glanced at the two with a strange expression, her emerald eyes half closed as she glared at the pair. "What’s going on?! Luka... Mildred is strange!"

Luka also couldn’t explain this strange feeling, a bizarre sense of terror.

’How could it be... this isn’t supposed to happen.’

He slowly approached the bed, his hand reaching out as if trying to grasp something invisible, while she looked at him with jet-black eyes lacking all light.

His blood raged as if trying to burst from his veins as he stood beside her bed, ignoring Iris’s strange expression.

All because he recognised this woman’s face, the scar across her cheek and eye.

"How could it be you?"

Mildred of the elegant dance.

His most fanatic and loyal knight, beyond even Galatea... she would have slaughtered anything if he asked.

Back then, he lacked that sort of determination.

A naive fool.

Yet to see her here right now felt almost sarcastic.

Because she was the one who pierced his heart with her blade.

Lucifer’s true killer.