The air had sharpened overnight. Percia could feel the snowfront at the edges of it — faint, but coming.
"Frieren-sama, it's time to wake up."
The lump on the ground curled tighter, wriggling in protest. "Wake me up tomorrow."
Fern sighed, turning back to the pot of water warming over the fire. "Stark-sama, please deal with this."
Stark was already grinning. He picked up a stick and poked at the lump. "Come on. You're going to make Fern mad."
"You're both so cruel." Frieren shuffled sideways until she was pressed flush against Percia's side. "Protect me, Percia."
Percia ran her fingers through the white hair spilling across her lap. "Fern made breakfast for us. We should eat."
Frieren buried her face against Percia's stomach. "I think I'll survive without that bread. It's better for my teeth anyway."
"You should be used to it by now," Fern said, handing over portions of stale bread and tea. "It's not like this is your first time through the Northern Plateau."
Percia accepted hers with a quiet thanks. She cracked into the hard loaf, chewing thoughtfully. "It's really not so bad. I think I'm getting used to it."
Stark stared at his portion. "...Good for you."
They ate with idle chatter, occasionally nudging Frieren to keep her from drifting back off. The fire crackled. The cold pressed at the edges of the camp.
"Where are we headed next?" Stark asked.
"The most direct route goes through the Drachen Region," Percia said. "The alternatives require hiking through the mountain passes, which I recommend avoiding this time of year."
She paused, tilting her head at their newest visitor. "Although it seems we may need a slight detour regardless."
Stark looked up from his tea. His eyes landed on the small creature perched on Frieren's back — a seed rat. "Who's this little guy?"
"It's holding a letter." Fern observed.
Percia held out her hand. The seed rat scampered up her fingers without hesitation, and she unrolled the small scroll attached to it.
"A subjugation request. Addressed to you, Fern." Her eyes moved across the text. "The Association wants you to head deeper into the Rufen Region. It seems there's a village nearby." She reached the end of the letter.
And stopped.
Encrypted, at the bottom, in handwriting she recognized immediately:
Did you really think I wouldn't notice?
A shiver ran up her spine. Fern raised an eyebrow at Percia's expression. "What's wrong?" She leaned over her shoulder, glancing at the letter. "It seems like a normal letter?"
Percia could only smile weakly.
"Fern, when I die, bury me somewhere nice; maybe under a tree with some nice shade."
Fern and Stark glanced at each other in confusion as Percia closed her eyes, accepting her fate.
"I am so royally screwed."
---
Frieren fell into step behind Percia, glancing at her slumped shoulders. "What's wrong with her?"
"Your guess is as good as ours," Fern said, from ahead.
Stark simply whistled as he led the way, hacking at stray branches with his axe. "She'll probably snap out of it."
"Stark-sama." Fern's voice was flat. "When Frieren-sama is in a similar mood, she will throw a tantrum for three days and three nights. I'd rather not see the extent of Percia-sama's tantrums."
Stark's face twisted in fear, glancing back at Frieren. "Terrifying... Is that how a lady should behave?"
"Don't worry about it, Stark." Frieren blinked back. "You're only on your second strike."
Stark shuffled sideways until he was walking next to Percia, using her as a human shield. "Frieren's being scary again."
No response.
He glanced at her. "Percia?"
Her gaze had shifted—fixed on the tree line ahead, something sharpening in her expression that hadn't been there a moment ago. "There's a clearing."
Fern perked up as she moved to pass her. "Oh, we must be at the village. Hopefully we can stock up on supplies other than the bread rations we have. Every good village has a bakery to visit."
Frieren's hand caught her sleeve.
"Wait." She was very still. Her eyes had gone to the middle distance, reading something in the air that wasn't visible. "It's off."
Fern paused, brows furrowing in confusion.
"Listen," Frieren continued. "Not with your ears. The air is wrong."
"...The forest is too quiet. No birds, no small critters... This silence isn't natural because natural silence still has texture." Fern whispered. "And the air itself... it's tainted."
"Good."
"A demon attack... That must be the reason for the subjugation request." Fern gasped.
"And by the looks of it, we're too late."
They stopped at the edge of the clearing. Rubble lay scattered about—walls caved inward, rooftops collapsed. Smoke still curled from the blackened timbers of several buildings, thin and gray against the pale sky. The mana residue was thicker here, almost visible like heat haze.
"There are no bodies," Stark said, low.
"They must have been hungry," Frieren said. Her voice was matter-of-fact. It made it worse somehow.
Percia moved into the square without waiting, eyes tracking the rubble. "Let's investigate further. I feel something toward the center of the village."
They picked through the debris carefully. Overturned carts. A child's boot lying on its side. The remains of what had been a market stall, goods scattered and trampled.
Stark's foot caught on something half-buried under a collapsed wall. He looked down.
A human leg. Just the one. Severed cleanly at the thigh.
"...That's fun."
"Relax, Stark. You too, Fern." Percia glanced between them, reading the tension in their shoulders. "If anything is still here, it will come for you first. Fear is a signal to them. You need to move past it."
Stark laughed once, slightly shaky. "Right. Because that's incredibly easy to do."
"It gets easier." Frieren had stopped a few paces ahead, looking up. "Experience is the only remedy for it. The two of you are young; it will come eventually."
Percia followed her gaze.
A raven sat on the peak of the church roof at the far end of the square. Perfectly still. Watching them with an attention that didn't belong to a bird.
A quiet spell ripped through the bird. Frieren's hand lowered.
"I think," Percia said, "you may be able to get some valuable experience today."
Frieren turned to Fern. "You should come with me. Demons find flight natural—we need to make sure they can't get airborne." Her eyes moved to Stark and Percia. "The two of you cut off the ground exits. Don't let anything run."
Stark straightened, axe shifting in his grip, the shakiness burning off into something steadier. He nodded once.
Frieren and Fern rose into the air.
"Hm..." Percia narrowed her eyes at the figures she could feel within the church. "Something about them is vaguely familiar."
---
"I guess the demons weren't hungry then." Stark mumbled.
Percia glanced down at Stark, still kneeling next to the corpses of the villagers before the statue of the Goddess.
"Those demons kill humans even if their bellies are full." The man—Genau—spoke. "I also wonder why."
"Demon killing humans is equivalent to humans hunting prey." Percia gazed down at the corpses, their faces twisted in anguish even after death. "Some hunt for the food, some hunt for the game."
"Your logic is flawed." Genau said flatly. "Demons are able to survive off of the same livestock that we do. We are not simply food to them."
Percia hummed. "I suppose not."
"Aren't you going to defend yourself?" Genau frowned.
"I don't see the point." Percia shifted her weight. "I don't see an outcome in which I convince you otherwise."
Stark glanced back at her. "I don't really get it though; you almost seem like you are defending them."
Percia just sighed. "I'm not defending them any more than I would defend a human."
She smiled down at him, ruffling his hair. "You get to my age; demon, human, elf, dwarf—they're all about the same after a while. They can all be good and they can all be bad."
Stark shifted under her hand. "There are good demons?"
Percia's hand paused. "No. There are only those that try." She paused. "Don't waver from my words, Stark. The demons that I am referring to are a rarity: most are indeed mindless monsters that won't hesitate to kill you."
She gazed at the statue of the Goddess, her stone eyes gazing back. "It is simply their nature."
It was her will, after all.