The door opened slowly as Luca and Seraphina stepped out of the room, both of them now fully composed in appearance, though the quiet tension between them had not entirely faded. The hallway outside remained dimly lit, the weak glow of lanterns flickering faintly as the stillness of the inn pressed heavily upon the senses.

Yet something had changed.

A faint stench drifted through the air.

Subtle at first.

But unmistakable.

The scent of decaying flesh.

Luca’s brows furrowed instinctively as the odor reached him, his senses sharpening immediately as unease stirred beneath the surface.

"You smell that...?" he asked quietly, his voice low yet serious.

Seraphina gave a small nod, her expression tightening slightly as she inhaled slowly, confirming what he had already realized.

"It has begun," she replied calmly.

The scent had grown stronger than it had been the 2 nights before.

The passage of time had allowed the grim reality within the inn to worsen.

They descended the stairs slowly, their steps measured as the quiet creaking of the wooden structure echoed faintly beneath their feet.

The ground floor remained as they had left it.

Bodies lay scattered across the room, the once warm atmosphere of the inn now replaced entirely by silent devastation. The metallic scent of dried blood lingered faintly in the air, mixing unpleasantly with the early signs of decay beginning to settle upon the unmoving forms.

Tables remained overturned.

Broken pottery lay abandoned upon the floor.

The lifeless stillness of the victims served as a silent reminder of the precision with which the attack had been carried out.

Luca’s gaze moved steadily across the room, his jaw tightening faintly as he took in the sight once more.

Seraphina remained equally composed, though the faint narrowing of her eyes revealed her heightened alertness.

Without unnecessary delay, they stepped carefully through the space, avoiding disturbance of the surroundings as they made their way toward the entrance.

The wooden door creaked softly as Luca pushed it open.

Morning light greeted them.

The outside world stood in stark contrast to the scene behind them.

Yet the silence remained.

The streets of the village lay empty.

No merchants.

No travelers.

No villagers beginning their daily routines.

Only stillness.

Seraphina stepped forward slightly, her gaze scanning the empty surroundings as her thoughts moved quickly.

"We should search separately," she said calmly.

"It will allow faster coverage."

Luca opened his mouth slightly, intending to respond, perhaps to suggest remaining together given the unpredictable danger that had already revealed itself.

Yet the words did not leave him.

He paused briefly.

Then nodded.

That might... be better for now...

The unspoken thought remained between them.

Professional distance.

Necessary clarity.

Both understood without needing explanation.

Seraphina turned, moving swiftly toward one end of the village, her steps confident and efficient as she began her search.

Luca turned in the opposite direction, his attention shifting toward the familiar market street they had explored the day before.

The contrast was unsettling.

Only two days before, the streets had been filled with activity.

Merchants displaying goods.

Voices bargaining.

Footsteps passing through narrow lanes.

Now—

Nothing.

Shuttered stalls lined the path, their wooden boards closed tightly as though abandoned in haste. Cloth banners that once advertised wares hung motionless in the still air, their faded colors dull beneath the quiet morning light.

Luca’s footsteps echoed faintly as he walked slowly through the deserted market street, his gaze shifting from one empty storefront to another.

No signs of struggle.

No visible destruction.

Only absence.

He paused briefly near one of the stalls they had visited previously, his eyes scanning the surroundings carefully.

"Not a single person..." he murmured quietly.

Even the faint background sounds of village life had vanished.

No distant conversation.

No movement behind closed doors.

No subtle signs of hidden presence.

Only silence.

An unnatural silence.

Luca exhaled slowly as unease settled deeper within his thoughts.

"Did the entire town just... disappear overnight...?"

The question lingered unanswered as he continued walking, his senses alert, his mind working to piece together the fragments of a mystery that had only grown more disturbing with each passing hour.

Whatever had occurred here...

Had not been ordinary.

And the truth remained hidden somewhere within the silence.

The stillness of the empty streets pressed heavily upon Luca’s thoughts as he continued searching through the abandoned market, his footsteps echoing faintly against the silent stone path. Every corner he turned revealed the same unsettling truth — shuttered stalls, empty alleyways, and not a single trace of human presence.

No voices.

No movement.

No life.

Even the faint sounds that usually accompanied morning in any settlement — distant footsteps, the clatter of utensils, merchants preparing their wares — were completely absent.

It was as though the entire town had vanished without leaving behind even the smallest sign of departure.

Luca’s pace quickened.

His unease grew sharper with every passing moment.

If this had been an evacuation, there would have been signs.

If this had been an attack, there would have been evidence.

Yet neither explanation matched what he was seeing.

The emptiness felt deliberate.

Artificial.

Wrong.

Without wasting further time, Luca turned and began moving swiftly back toward the inn, his mind racing through possibilities, each more troubling than the last.

As he approached the familiar building, he noticed another figure arriving from the opposite direction at nearly the same moment.

Seraphina.

Her pace slowed as she reached the front of the inn, her expression composed yet clearly thoughtful.

Luca stopped before her, the urgency in his voice evident as he spoke.

"The entire town is empty," he said seriously. "There is not a single trace of anyone."

Seraphina gave a small nod, confirming the same conclusion.

"I was unable to locate any survivors either," she replied calmly.

For a brief moment, both of them stood in silence, absorbing the implications of what they had just confirmed.

No villagers.

No travelers.

No signs of organized departure.

Nothing.

Only emptiness.

Seraphina’s gaze shifted slowly across the silent streets, her eyes narrowing slightly as realization formed.

"This town..." she said quietly.

"...may never have truly existed."

Luca blinked, confusion surfacing immediately upon his face.

"Huh?"

The statement sounded absurd at first.

Yet the more he considered the situation, the less impossible it seemed.

Everything about the village now felt artificial.

Too quiet.

Too clean.

Too perfectly erased.

As though it had only ever been a stage.

And the actors...

Had already left.

***

Far from the vanished town, far from the illusions carefully constructed to deceive even the most perceptive observers, a forest existed where life itself had long since been twisted beyond recognition.

The land there did not follow the laws of nature.

Darkness clung to the air even though no clouds covered the sky, as though the forest itself rejected light, refusing to allow warmth or clarity to reach its depths. The ground appeared fractured and uneven, roots bursting outward from the soil like veins of something diseased, their surfaces pulsing faintly with a dull crimson glow that flickered irregularly, as though mimicking the rhythm of a corrupted heartbeat.

The trees themselves bore no resemblance to ordinary life.

Their bark had cracked open in jagged patterns, revealing dark inner layers that appeared closer to charred flesh than wood. Some branches twisted unnaturally, bending inward upon themselves, while others stretched skyward like skeletal fingers grasping for something that no longer existed.

At the center of this unnatural forest sat an old man.

He remained perfectly still, seated cross-legged upon the corrupted ground as though the chaos surrounding him held no meaning.

His posture was relaxed.

Unbothered.

His closed eyes gave the impression of one deep in meditation, untouched by the unstable energy that surged through the land around him.

Then—

A tree nearby convulsed violently.

Its trunk expanded unnaturally, dark growth spreading rapidly across its surface as thick tendrils burst outward like parasites feeding upon the earth itself.

Before the transformation could complete—

The tree collapsed.

Not cut.

Not burned.

Simply erased.

Its form disintegrated into fragments of dark ash that scattered into the air before dissolving entirely.

Another tree twisted violently moments later, its corrupted branches expanding rapidly as though attempting to assert dominance over the surrounding space.

It too—

Was destroyed.

Silently.

Effortlessly.

The process repeated again.

And again.

Five times.

Six times.

Each corrupted growth rising with aggressive instability, only to be obliterated instantly before its transformation could fully complete.

The old man did not move.

Not once.

His breathing remained steady.

Calm.

Measured.

As though the chaotic destruction surrounding him was nothing more than passing wind.

Then—

The forest fell still.

No further growth emerged.

No further corruption surged outward.

The violent fluctuations ceased.

Silence settled heavily once more.

Only then did the old man slowly open his eyes.

Ancient.

Tired.

Yet carrying unfathomable depth within them.

His gaze shifted forward as though observing something that had not yet entered the visible space.

"Has your anger subsided?" he asked calmly.

His voice was neither loud nor forceful.

Yet it seemed to travel effortlessly through the distorted forest air.

Moments passed.

Then—

Footsteps.

Soft.

Measured.

A figure emerged gradually from the darkness between the corrupted trees.

Cloaked entirely from head to toe, layered fabric concealing every trace of form beneath its shadowed folds. No skin remained visible, not even the faintest hint of identity revealed beneath the dark material.

The figure moved forward slowly, its presence alone causing the surrounding corruption to recoil faintly, as though instinctively acknowledging something far more dangerous than itself.

It stopped several paces before the seated old man.

Then spoke.

Its voice carried a strange distortion, layered in a way that made it impossible to determine age or gender.

"Was all of this..."

A faint pause followed.

"...your doing, First Demon General?"