No sooner had Alastair finished his declaration than chaos erupted.
Hundreds of men and women poured out from the stronghold of the zealots, weapons raised, guns already firing toward Alastair and his companions.
"For Thaubia!"
"What the hell is this—no plan at all?" Vera snapped, drawing her massive sword to deflect the incoming bullets.
"You idiot demon!"
"Wahahaha! Now this is what I'm talking about!" King laughed, giving Alastair a thumbs-up.
"I like your style, man!"
He charged forward—
—and was yanked off the ground as Alastair grabbed him by the collar.
"Hey! Let go!" King struggled.
"Stay where you are," Alastair said.
"I'll handle this. Everyone—cover your ears."
He drew in a deep breath, then released his soul power in a single, focused shout.
"HAAH!"
A violent shockwave rippled through the air.
WHOOM—!
CRASH!
Screams echoed as hundreds of the zealots collapsed, dropping to the sand like puppets with severed strings.
"…Huh?"
King's eyes bulged. "That's it? That was all it took?"
"Ridiculously easy," he added. "Didn't even break a sweat. This is on a completely different level from that big-boobed demon—uh, I mean, Maya."
Carla shot him a sharp glare.
King shrugged and fell silent.
Alastair walked toward a man who appeared to be the squad leader.
The man lay on the ground, still struggling, trying to pull the trigger of his gun.
Alastair seized him by the head, preparing to perform a Soul Search to locate the zealots' true leader—information the previous subject hadn't possessed—
—but he paused.
The sound of a helicopter approached.
Whap. Whap. Whap.
Alastair frowned and looked up as a small black helicopter descended from the direction of the capital, landing nearby.
The first to step out was a tall, imposing man in his early forties. His long black hair brushed his neck, his skin tanned, his beard trimmed close. He carried himself with the natural authority of a ruler.
Beside him came a man in his late thirties with similar features, though his hair was cut short and dark circles shadowed his eyes.
They stopped before Alastair, observing him in silence.
"Your Majesty—please be careful," the man he had almost soul-searched said.
"Your Majesty?" Alastair echoed, turning his gaze to the long-haired man.
"Is that… the King of Thaubia?" Carla asked.
"I am Kalan," the man said, inclining his head.
"King of Thaubia and leader of the Warriors of Thaubia. This is my younger brother, Nahal. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"I am Alastair," he replied, returning the bow.
"The pleasure is mutual."
"Brother, why waste time talking to it?" Nahal snapped.
"Just destroy it!"
Alastair's eyes turned cold as he raised a hand, intent on silencing him—
"Wait," Kalan said. "Alastair, my brother speaks without thinking. Please restrain yourself. Nahal—be quiet."
Nahal clenched his fists but said nothing more.
"I was hoping to meet you as well, King Kalan," Alastair said, moving straight to the point.
"I require your assistance. I need you to locate a demon named Hyde—and I need it done quickly. I have little time."
They are locals. They know this land far better than I do.
"And why should I help you," Kalan asked, "when I seek to eliminate you?"
"You wish to eliminate me because you fear I will destroy the world, as foretold in your prophecy," Alastair said.
"Yes," Kalan said without hesitation.
"Then you have all the more reason to help me," Alastair said.
"If I fail to find Hyde and return to the world I just left by tomorrow, your world will be destroyed—starting with your country."
Kalan studied him in silence, sharp eyes assessing him like a hawk measuring prey.
"You truly seek only to return to your own world," Kalan asked, "with the help of this demon, Hyde?"
"Correct."
"Don't believe him, brother!" Nahal protested.
"He is the demon of the apocalypse—he cannot be trusted!"
"I believe he can," Kalan replied.
"Look carefully, Nahal. His eyes are those of a warrior—steadfast, resolute, filled with pride. I trust him."
"Brother!"
"Then let us discuss the details," Alastair said.
"Please," Kalan gestured, inviting them inside the stronghold.
"You are making a grave mistake," Nahal turned sharply and strode back toward the helicopter.
.....................................................
They were soon seated in a guest chamber within the stronghold. Food and drink were brought in abundance.
"Thank you, Alastair," Kalan said.
"My men have returned to normal, thanks to you."
Alastair inclined his head.
"I have already ordered my people to search for any trace of Hyde and the demon hunter Elijah," Kalan continued.
"If there is any development, I will be informed at once. For now—eat, drink, and rest as you wish."
"You're really going to eat his food?" Vera whispered to Alastair.
"Aren't you afraid of poison?"
"Poison has no effect on me," he replied.
"Excellent wine, Your Majesty," Henry said.
"Hahaha. I do enjoy collecting fine spirits," Kalan laughed.
"I'm glad you like it, Henry."
Kalan, Henry, and Simone drank and talked with ease.
Vera and King ran off to explore the stronghold, with Carla keeping a watchful eye from a distance.
Alastair stood alone by a window, glass of wine in hand, gazing out at the unfamiliar yet beautiful desert—his thoughts drifting to Grace.
Grace… you've never seen a desert before.
I promised to take you across the world, yet never fulfilled it.
I hope I will have the chance to keep that promise.
"You became a demon because of a woman, didn't you?"
Kalan's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Alastair paused, then turned to face him—but said nothing.
"Heh heh," Kalan chuckled.
"You don't need to answer. It's written all over your face. What else could break the soul of a warrior, if not a beautiful woman? She must have been extraordinary."
"Yes," Alastair said without hesitation.
"She was beautiful—both in body and in soul."
Her true soul… not that fragment, nor the reincarnation tainted by that world.
"What happened to her?" Kalan asked.
Henry and Simone looked on with quiet curiosity.
"She died protecting me," Alastair replied at last.
He wasn't sure why he answered. Perhaps it was the wine. The strange calm of the desert. Or perhaps because these humans and demons felt… almost like comrades.
Across three worlds, I have never had friends—yet here, among those I've known barely two days, I sense it.
This world is full of strange things.
Grace… I wish you could be here with me.
He had grown up in a world where everything was fought over—where the weak died or became servants. He had trusted no one, loved no one, except Grace.
They had grown together, overcome countless trials, and reached the pinnacle of their world side by side. They were to be married at last—
…and yet—
She gave her life to save his.