“I’ve heard of them,” Veronica said, dipping her chin slightly, careful not to appear too certain. “On my travels. Rumors, mostly. I was also able to learn some things with my fight against them. They’re a group that is always searching for new members."
Looking around, she noted everyone was paying close attention.
She continued. “Sacrifices, converts, anyone desperate enough to listen to their words—they recruit. They worship demons of the outer realm, believing them akin to gods who can grant them unimaginable strength and power. From what I’ve heard, those demons do reward devotion—power enough to tempt further greed.”
Her eyes lowered. “But… the rumors I’ve heard made them seem much more discreet. Whispering and meeting in alleys or secluded places. Nothing like this. Not something this brazen.”
“Who is the leader?” Leopold asked.
“It’s a woman named Virellia. Or, as the cultists say, Sister Virellia of the Veil.” Veronica sighed. “Quite a mouthful, really. She’s a powerful mage who dominates minds, turning people into worshippers. I don’t think she’s near here if you’re concerned about that. She usually makes her followers do the work.”
“Usually?” Viscount Leopold questioned.
Veronica winced slightly, but was careful not to show it. “I’ve heard one of the cultists mention it during my fight. Her followers can get sloppy from time to time.”
Baron Welterman’s eyes narrowed. “Dominates the mind? You mean…”
Veronica nodded. “She follows the Path of Veils and the Path of Longevity. Once someone’s will is weak enough, she brainwashes them repeatedly. The effects can last months, refreshed by higher members whenever they weaken.”
The room fell silent. Veronica didn’t blame them. Of mage law—brainwashing magic was forbidden.
Leopold’s expression was conflicted. “And you learned all this on your travels?”
Of course she hadn’t—it was all future knowledge. She kept her face neutral.
“I’ve fought a few of their weaker members before and learned some of this from them. Newcomer information, essentially. Rumors spread near the edge of Vitian. The Ashen Covenant is supposed to be reclusive, both small and weak; they rarely act like this. An attack on Greystone of this scale is almost unheard of from what I’ve heard whispered.”
Regardless if they believed her claims or not, it was clear Veronica wasn't their enemy. She had fought demons and killed cultists; she gained nothing from lying to them.
Leopold’s brow furrowed. “And yet here they stand, bold enough to steal from my household and strike openly at the town.”
Veronica said nothing. In her memory, the Covenant had been pathetic fanatics, slaughtered like cattle once the demons arrived. For them to summon now, before the Fall… had they always been this active? Maybe they had been hiding under the kingdom’s nose, taking root behind the scenes? That would explain their rapid spread in the future.
Baron Welterman cleared his throat. “Speaking of which… reports say that while the cultists struck here, you were fighting a demon in the forest. Elise mentioned it after she bravely fought dozens of cultists.” He smiled, boasting. “Townsfolk also claim they saw flashes of light in the forest in the direction of the old mines.” His tone was polite, but Veronica caught the edge. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” she said evenly. “I fought it and killed it. From what I could tell, it was the heart of the Greystone group. The leader may have been with them, but the demon seemed to be the one in charge. With its death, everything here should be solved. For now. I think the ritual was supposed to be conducted near the ruins, but with their forces this weak, I don’t think they have enough resources to attempt it.”
A murmur ran through the chamber. Welterman frowned.
Leopold leaned forward. “Do you know what sort of demon it was? Surely a lesser? Even so, that is remarkable. Few Tier-1s could hold their own against one, much less kill it.”
Veronica shook her head. “No. It was not a lesser.”
His brow rose. “Not a—? Then was it—”
“A demonic soldier,” she said flatly, final.
The chamber froze.
Welterman’s face tightened. Hadrian clasped his hands tighter. Elise’s eyes widened; she had seen Veronica cast spells beyond Tier-1, but to claim she had felled a soldier alone was something else entirely.
Only Nolhan’s expression remained unchanged. His gaze was steady and sharp, weighing her claim against the truth in her stance.
Welterman cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Miss Veronica, but are you certain? When we met, you claimed to be Tier-1. Even most seconds or thirds would hesitate to fight such a thing. Of those here in Greystone, only Elise or Nolhan might have a chance. And though I vouch for their strength, a lesser demon is still impossible to face.”
Leopold inclined his head. “Indeed. Many adventurers, even third or fourth-tier mages in my city, would not face a demonic soldier alone. Such a battle is tantamount to suicide.”
“Exactly so,” Welterman added. “Far from the capital, we all know demon ranks: lesser, soldier, centurion, commander. Beyond that, sightings require the Kingdom’s intervention. So—did you truly do as you claim?”
All eyes turned to her.
Veronica met their stares calmly. “Yes. I am sure. And while I was Tier-1 when I first arrived, I’ve since advanced. I am now Tier-2.”
The baron raised a brow. “So you were close to advancement when we met.”
She gave a small nod, choosing not to correct him. It was clear he didn’t buy it. In reality, she had advanced from one tier to the next in just a couple of days. For now, that secret would do nothing but raise suspicion—neither of them were magic officials, and it would be like boasting about archery to a knight.
Leopold leaned back, exhaling. His tone softened, but retained an edge. “Forgive me. These are grave matters. Such claims are hard to reconcile—unless you carried an artifact, struck from hiding, or the thing was weakened…”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Veronica smiled faintly. “No. None of those. I fought it directly. The battle was far from easy.” She gestured east with her thumb. “If you doubt me, walk to the site. You’ll find the remains—except for the demon. It’s completely burnt to ashes in the wind.”
The chamber fell silent.
Leopold was deep in thought.
Yet Welterman seemed restless, tapping a finger against his armrest, eyes flicking between Veronica and Elise, before darting briefly to Nolhan. He took the initiative to speak.
“Very well. Then, Miss Veronica… words are one thing. Proof is another. Even if destruction litters the forest, that alone is no proof—especially if the demon’s remains are gone. The body wouldn’t suffice. I would like to see your skill firsthand.” His gaze shifted to the old butler. “A short bout. With him. While Greystone is still in disarray, there shouldn’t be more problems with cultists tonight, if that demon was the leader as you claim.”
Veronica didn’t need Sage to know what Welterman was thinking. Somehow, the Baron wanted to take credit for today’s events. He was just using Elise like a trophy; her achievements, as his. It was apparent that Viscount Leopold was a very important backer to him.
“A bout? With Nolhan?” Leopold repeated, glancing at Nolhan, then back to Veronica.
Baron Welterman held a hand up. “I say this not out of curiosity, but as a test. If your claims are true, and you prove your strength against Nolhan, I’m sure both Leopold and I can reward you generously.”
A hum of acknowledgment came from Leopold. “Hmm… you’re right. Although the pains of battle still linger, it would be wrong to ignore your efforts. Especially if you’re the reason we’re all still alive.”
“However, if your claims are false,” Welterman continued, “we can dismiss this as exaggeration. I’ll even forgo the matter of lying to all present. After all, there were reports of Elise taking down several of those worshippers. Rewards should go to those who deserve them.”
Leopold rubbed his chin. “Even if that’s true, I’m not sure this is the best time to do it. I’m sure both Nolhan and Veronica are tired and—”
“I’ll do it,” Veronica cut in.
Sage. My core should be stable enough for a little light sparring, right?
[Your mana has fully recovered. Your mana core however, is still healing. As long as you stick to only using half of your mana and refrain from depleting yourself entirely, or forcing high mana ring rotation, only a slight 7-day delay will occur in the healing process. Every ten points of mana used past the halfway point will add an additional hour of healing time. If you burn out your mana completely, your mana cores will become unusable for one week.]
Seven days, huh… That’s longer than what I consider just a ‘slight’ delay. But… the demon and cultists have been defeated already. Shouldn’t be a problem then. I’ll hold back. Besides, this fight benefits me, too. There’s a specific reward that’ll greatly benefit me, isn’t that right, Sage?
[You’re correct. The Kassal oil will be useful in continuing your advancement.]
Already knowing what I’m going to say… wait—can you hear everything I think of? Even when I’m not talking to you?
[Yes. I can hear all internal thoughts you have. I find the thoughts you have when eating sweets to be very pleasant.]
Veronica’s face turned slightly sour, almost out of embarrassment. No privacy. Got it.
Viscount Leopold turned on her, his face tight. “Are you certain? Even if it wasn’t a demonic soldier, you clearly fought something formidable out there in the forest.”
After the battle with the cultists had ended, Veronica had come to the Baron’s estate for a post-battle discussion. Her attire at the time, however, was very… inappropriate. After being engulfed in the demon’s flames—evidence of her hard-fought battle—her dress revealed a bit too much. It was more than the others could hope to ignore.
As a courtesy, Elise had gone out to purchase a cheap set of temporary clothes for her.
“I’m certain,” Veronica said smoothly. “My mana is recovered. Enough for a brief exchange with Sir Nolhan, at least.”
Nolhan’s brow lifted. “Sir?”
He was no knight, no titled noble—merely a servant. To call him “sir” was unusual.
Veronica smiled faintly. “I saw you in the square. You condensed at least a faint sword aura. That marks a Tier-3 swordsman, or possibly Tier-4. Unless you trained in the capital or another prestigious city, accomplishing that alone deserves respect this far out.”
Nolhan’s scarred eye twitched, his expression hardening. “So you noticed.”
“Hard not to,” she replied. “I saw each time you slashed at a cultist. Your sword cut them apart too cleanly.”
The room stilled for a moment. Leopold raised a brow, mildly impressed.
“You are correct. I condensed a vague trace of sword aura myself over many years. I did not have the resources other swordsmen enjoy.” Nolhan admitted.
He still didn’t say his rank, Veronica thought.
The remaining silence broke with Leopold’s voice and a clap of his hands. “Then let us see the truth with our own eyes.”
Baron Welterman looked to him. “Then…?”
Leopold nodded. “Mage versus swordsman. Let us reconvene where you claimed to have killed the demon.”
The forest clearing still smelled of ash.
It was the same place she had faced the demon. The ground was blackened and bare, charred roots clawing upward like twisted fingers. The scar from her last spell was still here: a wide half-circle of devastation that scythed through the earth, splitting trees as their trunks disintegrated. Its path led deep into the forest, stopping only at the base of the mountains near the old mines.
When the small company of guards, Elise, Hadrian, and the two lords followed her, it wasn’t the burned earth that stole their breath—it was the beam-cut swathe, a line of obliteration pointing straight to the horizon.
“Stars above…” one guard muttered. “Is this really a good place to spar?”
Veronica ignored them. The field suited her. No buildings, no innocents. If Nolhan’s blade slipped, or her magic lashed wide, only the forest would suffer—and it had already endured worse.
Of course, they hadn’t fought immediately.
It was early afternoon now. She’d slept, bathed, and eaten.
The town was still recovering from the mess, and there were a lot of things for her to do. Veronica helped out where she could, keeping her mind and body busy. She also cross-referenced information with steward Hadrian, noting down anything she saw or experienced while in Greystone. Including the assassins that had attacked her.
Elise had also prepared plenty of meats, fruits, and chocolate she could hardly refuse. Welterman, acting as a kind host, had offered a better set of clothing in the morning.
Veronica was certain this was almost under Leopold’s request, or it was an attempt to curry favor.
The result was simple but striking for a town this remote: a form-fitting black tunic belted at the waist, sleeves loose instead of tight, mid-calf boots, black tights covering the rest of her legs, a small pouch at her left thigh, a skirt linked to the tunic, and a short gray cloak stopping at her elbows, clasped neatly at the collar. The fabrics weren’t extraordinary, but likely the best Greystone could offer. She could sense the flickering gazes from the guards.
Not the usual “why does she look so old?” or “she must be ugly, using an illusion charm” she’d endured under Medusa’s curse.
No—it was a pleasant feeling.
Right now, she supposed—she looked good.
Veronica stepped forward, rolling her shoulders and stretching: arms high, fingers interlaced, torso left, right, forward, then back. She exhaled, then flexed her fingers, refocusing on the man opposite her.
“I trust you’re comfortable and ready?” Nolhan asked evenly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword across the destroyed clearing.
“Of course,” Veronica replied.
The spectators drew a loose line along the edge. Leopold sat in a small wheeled chair. Welterman stood beside him, arms folded, injuries lighter, but gaze still sharp. Elise lingered close, posture straight, while the guards flanked the lords with utmost vigilance.
A hush fell. Only the whisper of wind through charred branches and the faint crackle of smoldering embers could be heard.
Veronica flexed her hands; mana rippled faintly along her skin. Across from her, Nolhan nudged his sword just enough for steel to catch the light.
This was her chance to finally show off, even if just a little. Though limited to half her mana—she was born with two cores. Half her cores just put her on an even playing field with mages of her tier. Aside from her four mana rings, of course.
Leopold raised a hand. “Remember, this is just a light sparring session. To prove whether Miss Veronica could truly deal with a demon soldier. Do not aim to kill or maim. There is still a lot of work left to do in the day, so try to keep things clean, but quick. Is that understood?”
Both she and Nolhan nodded.
The viscount gave a final nod, then struck down. “Begin!”
Why?
I'll gladly take suggestions if anyone has any ideas.
Path of Blooming and Path of Longevity
Path of Blooming and the Path of Longevity specialize in sustained restoration. Their magic is specialized in applying continuous healing, providing steady regeneration, purification, or stabilization. While their healing capabilities are among the lowest of all Blooming combinations, their magic is vital in long-expeditions and in battles of attrition, whether it be against enemies or even the environment. These mages are also generally the most athletic and physically strong, and their expertise is used often to help with physical conditioning, accelerating the rate at which a person grows by continuously healing muscle tears or replenishing fatigue in extended training sessions.
Who do you think will win between Nolhan and Veronica?
