Upon hearing Arthur's words, the children were visibly shaken. They instinctively huddled toward the center of the path, afraid that even brushing against those dreadful roots might trigger something. The narrow passage suddenly felt far more oppressive, every vine along the walls seeming to twitch in their imaginations.
Isabella, who had also read the "Adventure Novel" Arthur had uncovered earlier, shot him a sharp glare—as if silently accusing him of frightening them on purpose. Then her expression softened. With a gentle smile, she wrapped her arms around several children who had rushed toward her in panic, stroking their heads reassuringly.
"Don't be afraid," she said warmly. "Many of the roots in this underground passage are actually withered remains of Vampire Trees that have already died of old age. There's no need to worry too much."
She gestured calmly toward the tangled ceiling.
"Besides, Vampire Trees usually move only after their prey has fallen asleep. We have so many people here. When it's time to rest, we'll simply arrange a few to stand watch."
"They're just plants, after all. They have no intelligence. That makes them much easier to deal with."
Under the subtle coordination of Arthur's grim warning and Isabella's soothing reassurance—a perfect "bad cop, good cop" routine—the children gradually regained their composure. The suffocating fear from moments ago eased considerably. A few even dared to edge closer to the root-covered walls, cautiously observing the thick, shriveled strands that no longer showed signs of life.
Still, Arthur's earlier explanation lingered in their minds. None of them let their guard down completely. No one reached out to touch the vines or roots, no matter how dry or harmless they appeared.
As Arthur and Isabella took turns explaining what they knew about the underground ecosystem, the long trek became less monotonous. Their steady voices filled the tunnel, giving the children something to focus on other than their own anxiety.
Though many of them were already tired and secretly wished for a rest, none dared to bring it up. Since Arthur and Isabella, clearly the leaders, had not suggested stopping, the others felt it inappropriate to complain.
The older children, however, were perceptive. Without being told, they quietly picked up the youngest ones and carried them along. It was difficult enough for very small children to maintain pace on flat ground; navigating an uneven underground passage littered with dead roots and tangled vines was far more challenging.
"So annoying…"
A few children swatted irritably at insects hovering around them. The creatures looked like an unsettling cross between dragonflies and flies, their oversized compound eyes gleaming in the dim light. Adapted to the darkness, their eyes were grotesquely large—and when crushed, they burst with unpleasant green fluid.
"So gross!"
Several girls instinctively shrank away whenever one buzzed too close.
These insects weren't mentioned in the adventure book, and so far they hadn't shown any signs of aggression. For now, Arthur chose not to pay them special attention.
"Wait."
Arthur abruptly halted and raised his hand into a fist.
Everyone immediately recognized the signal. The group froze in place, conversations cut off mid-breath. Even the smallest children covered their mouths instinctively.
Arthur tilted his head slightly, listening.
Beyond the faint dripping of underground moisture and the distant rustle of roots shifting against soil, there was something else—subtle, irregular.
"There's someone…"
He said the words quietly.
Yet even as he spoke, he knew full well that in a place like this… it was impossible for there to be any "people."
However, it couldn't be some ordinary underground beast.
Arthur had clearly heard voices, conversation.
And in this world, aside from humans, the only beings capable of structured language were… Demons.
Saeko Busujima immediately understood what he implied. Her expression sharpened, all previous fatigue erased. She subtly shifted the scabbard into her left hand, her right ready to draw in a single fluid motion. Isabella also looked toward Arthur without speaking. The moment he gave the signal, she would fulfill her role and lead the children to retreat.
Pursuers?
No… that didn't make sense.
According to Arthur's knowledge, the underground world's terrain was absurdly complex—like a sprawling labyrinth with no order or logic. To the farm demons, such a place was nothing more than a filthy rat's nest: cramped, damp, and beneath their dignity. They would never waste manpower exploring it thoroughly. Given their massive physiques, forcing their way through these narrow passages would be troublesome enough.
It was even less likely that they could navigate unfamiliar terrain and somehow get ahead of them to cut off their path.
After all, even Arthur's group was moving without a fixed route.
So if they weren't pursuers… then that meant the voices ahead belonged to demons who already lived underground?
That possibility was just as strange.
Demonic habits were, in truth, quite similar to humans. If they had the option of living comfortably on the surface, very few would choose to reside in a suffocating, humid subterranean maze like this.
There was, however, one exception.
A special race rejected by mainstream demon society—
The Evil Blood Maidens.
They were a unique kind of demon that appeared in The Promised Neverland. Among their kind, they were small—often even more petite than an average human. And there was one crucial difference separating them from other demons:
They did not eat human flesh.
"Let's go. There shouldn't be any immediate danger," Arthur said quietly.
He was certain their movements had already been detected. A demon's senses far surpassed those of humans, and unlike a forest, this underground cavern had no thick trunks or foliage to dampen sound. The children's whispers, footsteps, even their swatting at insects would have carried far through these tunnels.
The fact that the other party had not approached them meant only one thing.
They were waiting.
No matter what awaited ahead, Arthur would not let this opportunity slip by. The Evil Blood Maidens would never seek them out voluntarily under normal circumstances.
He had no illusions about possessing the heaven-defying luck of the original protagonists—conveniently stumbling upon an Evil Blood Maiden's companion immediately after escaping and being hunted.
That was precisely why, before entering this underground world, he had used one of his two Plot Privilege Cards.
The additional plot he inserted had been simple:
[After escaping the farm, I accidentally encounter a demon known as an Evil Blood Maiden.]
The modification itself was not overly difficult to implement. He had not specified a time frame. After all, Evil Blood Maidens undeniably existed within this world. If he survived long enough and searched actively, their paths would eventually cross.
Activating the card merely ensured that "eventually" became "sooner."
He had used a B-rank privilege card for it.
Even so, he hadn't expected the encounter to occur on the very first day—before it had even fully ended.
The effect of such a privilege was stronger than he imagined.
Leading the group through several branching tunnels, Arthur turned another corner.
Then they saw it—
Flickering firelight dancing against the wall ahead.
Two shadows stretched long across the muddy surface—one small, one tall.
Near the fire stood a petite figure wrapped entirely in a cloak, her face hidden beneath a deep hood. Her slender frame resembled that of a human child, and at first glance she seemed almost harmless.
A gentle, melodious voice drifted through the cavern.
"Welcome, children of humanity."
"Would you like a bowl of hot soup?"
No one answered.
Because at that very moment, behind her, another figure slowly rose into view.
Tall.
Grotesque.
A silhouette torn straight from a nightmare.
A demon.
"Oh?" a heavy male voice rumbled, thick with amusement. "Aren't these the little kids from the farm?"
"They look like quite rare premium goods. Seems we're in for a feast tonight."
The warmth from the fire suddenly felt distant.
The fragile hope that had just begun to bloom was crushed in an instant, plunging the children's hearts back into a freezing abyss.
Should they run?
Could they even outrun something like that?
The children's gazes instinctively gathered on Eren's back. Even now, facing a nightmare made flesh, his small figure stood straight and unmoving. There was no visible tremor in his shoulders, no hesitation in his stance. To them, that calm silhouette became the only anchor in the suffocating dark.
Arthur slowly set his backpack down on the ground.
The soft thud echoed faintly in the cavern.
His fingers closed around the hilt of the demon blade Murasame at his waist. The motion was unhurried, controlled. The blade remained sheathed, but the killing intent hidden beneath that stillness was unmistakable.
"You—"
His eyes lifted toward the towering Demon. His voice was flat, stripped of emotion, like a blade sliding free of its scabbard.
"Do you know what I just killed outside?"
The question fell into the cavern and seemed to linger there.
Silence thickened.
The fire crackled softly. Shadows flickered against the earthen walls. For a brief moment, the air felt heavy enough to crush lungs.
Then—
The towering Demon threw its head back and burst into booming laughter.
"Hahaha!"
The sound rolled through the tunnels like distant thunder.
"You really are an interesting little brat!"
Its grotesque face twisted with amusement rather than anger, as if it had just heard an unexpectedly entertaining joke. The massive frame shifted forward slightly, claws scraping against the ground with a grating sound.
Behind Arthur, the children's hearts pounded wildly.
But he did not move.
He did not blink.
He simply stood there, one hand resting on the hilt of a blade that promised certain death to anything it so much as grazed.