In a sandy training yard, half a dozen soldiers were sparring with their instructor, a tall woman wielding a blunt-edged halberd. And despite the advantage in numbers, the soldiers were clearly losing. In fact, there were many more soldiers standing on the sidelines, their bodies bearing the bruises and scrapes of their own losses.

"Too slow! You'll never hit a monster like that, Frank!"

"And you're too hurried, Erik! If you just flail around, you also won't hit a thing!"

"Running out of energy already, Alex? You need to work on that! Do five more laps each morning!"

"Those are some fancy moves, Paul, but you don't have the experience to do 'em properly!"

"A sneak attack? Nice try, but when you're stomping around like that, even the blind and deaf could notice you!"

One by one, the soldiers were knocked back, often to the ground. They picked themselves up and backed out from the fight, having gained painful wounds but also advice on how to improve.

Only one of the soldiers was left. He wasn't particularly handsome or ugly, easily blending into a crowd in his daily life. He had an unruly mop of red hair and warm grey eyes. Like his comrades, he wore a padded gambeson over a linen tunic and leggings, with sturdy leather boots on his feet. He was seventeen years of age, a bit on the younger side for these soldiers, but his skill was apparent from how he was still fighting.

"Hah!"

The young soldier stepped forward boldly while thrusting his spear. The attack was so fast that even trained soldiers would have trouble seeing it.

But the instructor simply parried it with her halberd. As a result, the young soldier was left unable to stop a blow to the belly that knocked him down.

"Again, Elt, you're stepping in too far! Do that and you leave yourself open!"

The instructor tapped her halberd's blade lightly against Elt's shoulder, a reminder that this mistake would have been lethal in a real battle.

"S-Sorry, Captain Mersé…" Elt said as he climbed to his feet. "It won't happen again."

Mersé Dascaros was the captain of this unit of soldiers. The only one to have a surname—a fairly common occurrence—and also the only woman—somewhat less common. She was taller than many men and almost all women, with a strongly muscled build to go with her height. Her hair and eyes were both grey, although a wide loop of cloth covered her right eye. Her clothing left little to the imagination—a metal bustier, a black jacket left open in the front, black gloves, dark brown shorts, stockings and metal-clad boots—which meant it also exposed many scars earned in battle.

"You'll just need more practice," Mersé said. Raising her voice, she added, "That goes for all of you! You've all improved a lot since you signed up, but you need to keep training if you want to stand a chance against monsters!"

"Yes, Captain!" The soldiers shouted back in unison.

"That's all for today!" Mersé continued. "Now, wash yourselves up and get some lunch in you! The afternoon training starts at two o'clock sharp, and all of you had better be ready for it!"

"Understood, Captain!"

With that settled, they all set down their weapons and filed into the barracks that adjoined the training yard. It was a small building relative to the number of people it served, resulting in sweaty soldiers repeatedly elbowing each other by accident.

During the brief walk, Elt thought about what he'd just been told in the training.

That's the third time the captain warned me to stop stepping too far when thrusting… I've tried correcting it, but as soon as I start fighting and get all worked up, it happens again… Hah…

I have to pull myself together. I'll never achieve anything if I can't even pass this obstacle.

They arrived at a similarly cramped changing room. Here, Elt sighed and kept his eyes firmly fixed on a wall while he changed. Some of his fellow soldiers weren't as polite with their gazes, though they still refrained from saying anything out loud.

Even though he'd been training under Mersé for three months now, he still wasn't used to the… quirks of his captain.

At least she didn't follow her soldiers into the bathroom as well.

-ooo-

After washing themselves, the soldiers went to the dining hall for lunch. This was a room packed with long wooden tables and benches, leaving just enough space to walk and sit down. A counter ran along one side of the hall, with an irritable-looking cook and numerous pots behind it.

For the common soldiers of Lescatie, meals were nothing to celebrate. They were designed to be cheap, filling and—when out on campaign—long-lasting. This came at the expense of appearance, taste and texture.

Still, Elt hummed as he picked up his hard bread, stale cheese and thin soup from the cook. After eating some even worse fare in his childhood, he'd actually acquired a taste for these military rations.

"Hey, can you pass me that strawberry jam?"

"Sure, but I don't think this goop actually has real strawberries in it…"

"Can't believe it's still noon… I wish this day could just end already…"

"But it's not like there's much to do in this city… Other than sleeping, I guess."

Elt found a seat amidst the chatting soldiers. He smeared some jam over his bread, bit into it, chewed it forcefully a few times and then took a gulp of soup. Other people might drink the soup before they started chewing, but Elt preferred to challenge his jaws a little. It was just an odd quirk of his.

Frank arrived and sat down on the bench next to Elt. He was a young man with sandy hair and a rough beard of the same colour, and crystal blue eyes. He always seemed to have a cheerful look on his face, as if aware of a joke that nobody else was in on.

"Man, the captain hit me so hard, my bruises from yesterday have bruises," Frank groaned. "I wish I was as skilled as you, Elt."

"I'm not that good," Elt said, his words slightly muffled by the bread. He swallowed, then continued, "I still keep losing to Captain Mersé, even during that time I fought her when she was unarmed."

That sparring match still sent shivers down Elt's spine. With the disparity in equipment, he'd hoped to at least land one blow on Mersé… but she'd smoothly dodged his spear a few times, then snatched it out of his hands and used it to knock him down. It was a reminder of the difference between a hero, blessed by the Chief God, and a mere soldier.

"But you're always the last person standing against her," Frank said. He nibbled on his cheese. "Even if I trained as long as you did, I'd never be able to fight like that."

"Maybe you should train for longer," Elt suggested. "You might just end up better than me."

Frank shook his head dismissively. "Nah, that's not for me. As long as I'm at the average level, there's no point in putting in more effort."

Such words were borderline-blasphemous in Lescatie, a stronghold of the Order where all were expected to put in their full effort… yet none of the nearby soldiers even raised an eyebrow at Frank. This was only natural. For common soldiers like Elt and Frank, joining the military was mainly seen as a way for the poor to earn money. Most people with even a trace of wealth preferred jobs that didn't risk their lives.

Elt was the same way. He did put in more effort than most, but that wasn't out of a zealous desire to slay as many monsters as he could. He wanted to rise in position as high and as quickly as possible. He didn't expect to become a hero like Mersé, of course, but even becoming a platoon commander would mean increased salary.

Memories flashed across Elt's mind: a run-down church, smiling children in rags, their caretaker. His siblings, even if he shared not a single drop of blood with them.

So far, I've been able to get them some better food… but it'll take more to really fix up the place. The roof still leaks during storms, and we have to keep patching it up…

While lost in thought about the church, Elt heard a door swing open.

"Hey! Are you in here, Big Brother!?"

A high-pitched voice rang out through the dining hall. That would have been out of place since all but one of the residents was male, and the sole woman had a fairly deep voice. But most of the soldiers didn't react beyond bowing their heads reverently.

Ah… She's come again.

Marching up to Elt was a little girl who didn't even come up to his eye-level, despite being on her feet while he was sitting. She had red eyes, pink hair tied with a huge white bow, and wore an incredibly frilly dress of pink, white and deep red. As a result, she stood out in the crowd of rough soldiers.

"Hello, Mimil," Elt said politely. "How are you doing today?"

"Fine as always, but I should be asking you that question," Mimil replied, using a tone normally unthinkable for a child addressing an adult. "You're the one who's gotten beaten black and blue again."

"I'm still making progress every day," Elt said.

"Yeah, in the same way that a kid piling up blocks to make a toy house is 'progress'," Mimil retorted.

Mimil was herself a child, but almost none of the soldiers pointed out this hypocrisy. Almost none of them dared to oppose Mimil Miltie, the prodigy among prodigies who was the best magician in all of Lescatie.

"That's a very fitting example, Mimil," Elt said. "By the way, are you interested in such things?"

None, that is, except Elt.

Mimil blushed to the tips of her ears. "Of course not! Anyway, what good is your 'progress' if you're still at this level? You've never actually fought a monster, have you? Luck for you, because you'd lose instantly if that ever happened!"

This was undeniable. Elt was still a relatively untrained soldier who'd never encountered monsters before, and not for a lack of opportunity. Lescatie lay on the frontier of the conflict between humans and monsters: to the southwest and southeast were the Order nations of Seren and Amalos, but everything to the north was monster-held territory. And until Elt reached a level deemed acceptable by Mersé, he wouldn't be sent out on the expeditions that involved actual fighting.

"It's true, I haven't fought monsters yet," Elt said. "That must be thanks to your efforts, Mimil. It's your hard work keeping the monsters far away from Lescatie."

"Hmph, of course!" Mimil said, puffing herself up. "People like you would be useless in the actual fighting, so you should just stay home! Leave the monsters to heroes like me!"

"Hey, don't act like you're protecting Lescatie singlehandedly."

Mersé said this from the side while looking down at Mimil. Due to the massive disparity in height, they resembled a lion confronting a mouse.

"Guh… fine, I acknowledge your efforts as well," Mimil said. "But that doesn't change my point!"

"My men are a match for any in Lescatie," Mersé said, her voice a low growl. "For the time they've been training, they've got nothing to be ashamed of. Of course they're ready to face monsters yet; even heroes have been losing to monsters lately."

Mersé's words were grim, but also the reality they all had to face. The forces of Lescatie were among the strongest of humanity—some would say the strongest—but they were far from invincible. It felt like every month a report came in of a hero being defeated or going missing.

"And that's all the more reason why we need more, and competent, backup," Mimil insisted.

The little girl and the massive woman glared at each other. Eventually, Mimil looked away.

"Anyway, that's all I came to say! Goodbye!"

Mimil walked—or rather, stomped—out of the room. Exactly the behaviour expected of a kid, but almost none of the soldiers dared to bring this up.

"What the hell is with that brat?" Mersé said. "Yeah, there's no denying that none of you are at the level of a hero. But if she's judging everyone by that standard, then she's the—"

"I'm sure she has a lot of things to deal with," Elt said diplomatically. "She's only twelve, but she has to study magic and fight monsters, things that adults find challenging."

"Why do you always defend her?" Mersé asked. "She's the one always picking on you, out of everyone else. Not sure if it's because she likes looking down on other people, but she's just abusing her rank to act like a bully. You don't have to put up with that."

"I've been telling him that all the time, Captain," Frank added. "But it never seems to get through his thick skull."

"I think she's just worried for me," Elt said. "She almost reminds me of a little sister, in a way."

That earned Elt many shocked looks. Describing one of Lescatie's greatest heroes in this way could also be considered blasphemous. Still, none commented on it, perhaps because of how Mimil herself referred to Elt.

"…If you're fine with it, then I'll leave it there," Mersé said. "But tell me if you want me to ban her from coming. There's no point in staying quiet if she really annoys you."

"Thank you, Captain, but that shouldn't be necessary."

Mersé walked off, and the soldiers gradually began returning to their meals. Elt picked up his bread and bit into it again.

Mimil's visits were a regular event for him. They were the occasional topic of discussion for his fellow soldiers, who wondered just why a hero like her was so interested in him… even if that interest was expressed mainly via insults.

Elt himself wasn't sure why the little magician kept visiting. There was really no way he could be sure without somehow reading her mind. But he'd lived in an orphanage for the past seven years, so he had some experience with how children thought.

Whenever she comes to visit, she always seems a little happier as she leaves… like she was able to let out a lot of stress.

-ooo-

After lunch was more training. This took place outside the walls of the city of Lescatie. Specifically, it took place in a nearby woodland where the soldiers could practice using the environment to their advantage.

Elt soon found a dense bush to hide beneath. He was quite good at this due to a certain friend of his. From his hiding place, he patiently watched Mersé hunt down his fellow soldiers.

"There you are!"

"Gaaahhhh!"

Elt and his fellow soldiers were no match for Mersé in open combat, even with the advantage of numbers. But by setting traps and attacking from ambush, they could potentially even the playing field.

"Potentially" being the operative word.

"Nice try, but that bush's too thin to cover you!"

"Wait, wait—aaarrghhh!"

One by one, Elt's fellow soldiers were defeated. Some apparently came close to landing a hit on their captain, but none actually succeeded. They then left the training area to lie down and recover.

While in his hiding place, Elt slowly and carefully peeled off plant fibres from a vine, then twisted them together into thin strings. When he was confident no one was around, he tied strings between plant stems in several different places to make tripwires, then hurried back under the bush.

Half an hour after the training exercise started, Elt was again the only one left. He didn't dare let down his guard, for Mersé would only be looking for him more keenly now.

Mersé came into view. The halberd-carrying woman was stepping loudly and boldly through the woodland. She'd been moving quietly before—presumably, her current lack of stealth was a trick to unsettle Elt.

Remembering Primera's words, Elt remained beneath the bush and breathed silently. Even when Mersé came just a few paces away from his position, he continued waiting for a better opportunity.

Suddenly, an explosion resounded through the woodland. It was immediately followed by the shrieks and cries of countless frightened animals. Mersé turned her head towards the direction of the explosion.

I won't have a better chance than this!

Elt burst out from the bush and charged at Mersé. His training spear was blunt but could still inflict injury, yet he did not hesitate.

Mersé whirled around and parried Elt's attack using her halberd. The shock made Elt feel like his arms would be yanked from his sockets.

Have to—keep pressing!

Elt pushed forward with all of his strength, hoping to force Mersé back so her foot hit one of the tripwires. In the distance, he heard more explosions.

"Not bad… but I noticed those strings already!"

Mersé planted her feet in the ground. Elt now felt as if he was trying to push down a great oak tree. Switching tactics, he desperately kicked at Mersé using his right leg.

In response, Mersé simply pushed with her halberd, sending Elt flying backwards. He hit the ground with a painful thud.

"Ouch…"

A hand appeared in Elt's vision. He gratefully took hold of it and let Mersé pull him up.

"You did well, Elt," Mersé said, her single exposed eye twinkling with admiration. "This time, all I can say is that you need to work on your strength and speed."

"But I still won't have a chance of matching you, Captain Mersé," Elt pointed out. "Mimil had a point there."

"Forget what that frilly brat says," Mersé said. "Most monsters aren't so powerful that only heroes can fight them. And it's not like fighting is the only thing that has to be done by an army. Scouting, foraging for food, setting traps—" she nodded towards the nearest tripwire that Elt had set, "—there's plenty of things to do. And going back to my original point, getting stronger will help you against regular monsters."

"I understand, thank you."

The explosions continued in the distance, accompanied by the occasional cheering.

"Sounds like others are training as well," Mersé said. "Since you lot are totally distracted now, we might as well join in watching."

The soldier and the hero walked out of the woodland and arrived at a grassy field. Elt's fellow soldiers were here watching two heroes spar in the background.

"Look at 'em go!"

"Who do you think'll win!?"

The two heroes were moving so quickly they appeared as blurs to Elt's vision, except during the brief moments when one of them stopped to change direction. They were a man and a woman, both wearing gleaming plate armour and wielding swords made from blue crystal. Whenever their swords clashed, there was an explosion of light. Whenever they ran across the ground, deep gouges were left in their wake.

The male hero jumped back to create some distance between himself and his opponent, then trust his off-hand forward. A fireball shot forth from his hand and towards the female hero, who reduced it to mere sparks with a slash of her sword.

Then the pair of heroes came together and again became too fast to see.

Looking on the pair from afar, Elt was impressed. He was over sixty paces away but he could still feel the gusts of wind from the battle.

But he was also a little envious. Just a single one of those crystal swords probably cost more than Elt earned in a year, and that was when neglecting his living expenses. Their armour would cost even more than that. And when he factored in the fancy clothing that these heroes would wear off-duty, or the large houses they lived in… it was impossible to not be envious.

It's easy to forget around Captain Mersé, but this is the world heroes live in. A completely different world from the likes of me.

After a few minutes, the heroes came to a stop. They shook each other's hands and said something, presumably congratulating each other on an excellent fight. They glanced over in the direction of Elt's unit and raised their hands in greeting, then began heading back to the city.

This was what most heroes were like. They weren't unfriendly towards the common soldiers, generally speaking, but ultimately they were of a higher class. Rubbing shoulders with the commoners would just distract from their important duties… or so the priests and nobles always claimed.

But Elt didn't have time to continue pondering that. Mersé clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention, then said, "Alright, show's over! It's time to get back to training, you sacks of meat!"

Elt and the other soldiers hurried back to the woodland, some of them groaning along the way.

-ooo-

When the sun neared the horizon, most of Elt's unit returned to the city, eager to return home and rest.

Elt himself stayed behind with Mersé to continue sparring one-on-one. He accumulated some new bruises, but he felt he was able to make some progress in his spear handling. When the sun had almost completely set, the two of them stopped; staying outside the city at nightfall was a risk few people took, even heroes.

As they approached the city's main gate, Elt recognised the two guards currently on duty. Their names were Ilya and Mark.

"Staying back out late again?" Ilya said. "I really envy you—gak!"

Mark had just elbowed Ilya in the stomach.

"Forgive him, he forgets his manners as soon as the sun goes down," Mark said.

"It doesn't matter, no point in keeping up appearances when it's this late," Mersé said flippantly. "You won't ruin any visitors' ideas about Lescatie."

"See, what did I tell you?" Ilya said to his colleague.

"You think I'm the one in the wrong, for trying to make you act properly?"

Elt and Mersé passed by the two guards as they started bickering with each other.

After re-entering the city, the soldier and the hero stopped at the barracks to drop off their equipment. Just before they did so, Merse said, "Want to keep training a little longer? We could squeeze in an hour more, and you still haven't gotten over your bad habit yet."

"Sorry, Captain Mersé, but I think that's all my body can take for today," Elt replied.

"Then how about we get drinks together?" Merse suggested. "That bar over near the north gate would be good, they've added some new kinds of beer to their menu, kinds you can't get anywhere else in Lescatie—"

"Well, maybe, but…" Elt said, trying to think of excuses. "It's awkward saying this after we've already done it a few times, but… is it really okay for a hero to go out drinking in bars?"

"What, you think this'll ruin my reputation or something?" Mersé said. "Hah, like I care! As long as I do everything the Order needs of me, they won't say no to whatever I get up to in my free time. And they won't go after you, either… but if anyone does, I'll make them pay for it."

"Th-Thank you," Elt said. "Still, drinking too much can be unhealthy, and it might get in the way of tomorrow's training…"

"Don't worry, it'll just be two or three cups! You need to know when to relax!"

Mersé wrapped her left arm around Elt's neck and pulled him in to her chest. This was even more awkward for him since, while most of her body was hard and muscular, she had plenty of feminine softness as well.

"W-Well, alright," Elt said at last. "But that's all! Two or three drinks, some talking, and then we're both going home!"

Mersé released Elt and smiled. "Alright, it's settled! I've got to go to the office to finish some paperwork—" she spat out the word like it was a curse, "—but I'll meet you there!"

With that, Mersé walked off.

I really should be going back to the church earlier… Elt thought. Still, it's always nice to hear the captain's war stories…

Elt turned around, planning to wait for Mersé at the exit to the barracks, and spotted a blue-haired woman standing at the corner. She had expensive clothing and a magnificent sword that could only belong to a hero. And she was painfully recognisable.

"Oh…" Elt said dumbly.

Mary—no, Wilmarina was standing there, her eyes wide with surprise. It was unusual for a hero of her stature to visit this barracks of soldiers. Elt could think of only one reason why she would be here.

"Lady… Wilmarina," Elt said. "Are you looking for Captain Mersé Dascaros? In that case, she just went over…"

Wilmarina bit her lip. Even if Elt had spent most of the past eight years separated from her, he recognised this as a sign that she was hurt.

"S-Sorry," Elt said reflexively, assuming he'd done something to offend her. "Were you looking for someone else…?"

Then Wilmarina smiled softly. It was an expression that would leave most people swooning, but… there was something else behind that expression

"Actually, you were coorect the first time," Wilmarina said. She held up a piece of paper. "This document is for Captain Mersé. There's no hurry, so would you pass it on to her later for me?"

Elt kept his expression neutral. This was only the second time he'd seen Wilmarina in eight years, but she was acting like a complete stranger. If any of the other soldiers were here in his place, she'd be using the exact same words.

Has she forgotten all about me? It's been eight years, and even back then, I was only the child of her family servants…

She is a hero now. And heroes… shouldn't get involved with the likes of me.

Elt couldn't just remain silent, so he accepted the document and said, "Under… stood."

Wilmarina nodded. "...Thank you very much. Well then... I'll be on my way."

Their second meeting ended. Wilmarina turned around and walked towards the exit of the barracks. Elt remained standing on the spot.

Looks like she really has forgotten…

Elt had previously met Wilmarina a few weeks ago. His unit and several others had gathered to listen to some speeches by the higher-ups. Wilmarina had given one of the speeches, and during it she'd seemingly made eye contact with Elt… but only for a moment, too short to think of it as anything except coincidence.

I guess that's what being an adult is like. People separate, they're sad about it at first, but eventually they move on.

Elt went to Mersé's office to drop off the document.

"More paperwork!?" Mersé groaned. "Really, why do they keep assigning this to people trained to fight, instead of the ones who actually care about it? Sorry, Elt, it might be a little longer before I can—"

"Actually, Captain, I'd like to leave now," Elt said. "Sorry for ruining your plans, but… I'm not feeling too well at the moment, so alcohol wouldn't agree with me. And… I'd better get back to my home as soon as possible, I don't want to worry the people I live with."

Mersé looked at Elt critically. For a moment, the young man feared she might reject his request.

"That's fine. Guess I'll just have to drink your share as well," Mersé said. "Goodnight, Elt."

"Goodnight, Captain."

Elt left the office and then the barracks. He looked around, but Wilmarina was nowhere to be seen. The only people present were a few soldiers and various other common folk, and even they would eventually disappear to their homes.

It was just as he expected… yet Elt still clenched his fists.

Calm down. You're not a child anymore. You have to know your place.

The memory of a girl wearing a garland of flowers passed through Elt's mind. He shook his head, trying to forget it, and moved on.

-ooo-

It was well and truly night when Elt finally arrived at Sasha's church. Elt walked up and knocked on the door—a mass of insect-riddled timber that had seen better days, much like every other part of the building.

A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a green-haired woman with a worried look in her eyes. That worry was immediately replaced by relief.

"You've returned," Sasha said. "Really, why must you stay out so late?"

"Sorry, Sasha," Elt said as he stepped inside. "I've got a long road ahead of me before I can become a proper soldier."

The inside of the church was comfortably warm, even though the external appearance suggested it would be full of drafts. There was no light aside from moonlight streaming in through the windows. Still, both Elt and Sasha knew the place well enough to navigate it even in complete darkness. They made their way along the side of a large room towards a door at the far end.

Though Sasha could always light it up with magic, Elt mused. She must be avoiding that now to stop any of the kids from waking up.

"You shouldn't wear down your body for the sake of work," Sasha said firmly. "This church will continue regardless of what you do, you shouldn't feel obligated towards it."

That much was true. As a veteran hero of the Order, Sasha's income was more than ten times Elt's. But that didn't mean he could back down.

"If that's the case, why are you working so hard, Sasha?" Elt asked. "You often stay up later than I do, and get up earlier. There's even bags under your eyes. It's worrying all of us."

Sasha looked away. "That's… I'm perfectly fine—"

"That's exactly what people say when they're overworking themselves," Elt said. "Just what are you doing that takes so much time? I'm sure me, Primera and some of the older kids can help with it."

The two of them arrived at the door. On the other side was a room with a single bed, a small pile of clothes and nothing else. It was clean and tidy, however.

"I'm perfectly fine," Sasha repeated. "Now, sit down and let me take a proper look at you, young man. I won't let you go to bed in that condition."

While Elt still felt suspicious, he nevertheless sat down on the bed. The authority in Sasha's voice wasn't something he could easily defy. Even if he was merely eight years younger than her and they were something akin to foster siblings, he was similar to the younger orphans in that regard.

Sasha inspected Elt's body with a purely professional manner. She held her hands, glowing with soft white light, above each cut, scrape and bruise. Less than a minute after she started, all of the wounds were gone and Elt felt noticeably refreshed.

"There, all done," Sasha said. She placed her hands on her hips. "You mustn't do this again. I won't heal you if all you do is let yourself be battered again."

"Don't worry, that won't happen," Elt said reassuringly. "It shouldn't be long before I can actually avoid Captain Mersé's attacks."

Of course, Mersé never used her full might against her trainees. They'd be nothing more than red smears on the ground if she did. But it would still be an achievement for Elt to match a hero who was holding back.

Suddenly, Elt noticed two pairs of eyes peeking through the crack in the door. He sighed, causing Sasha to turn around.

"Lisia, Emiyu," Sasha said, raising one green eyebrow. "What are you doing up at this time of night?"

Two girls entered the room, one taller and with brown hair tied into two bunches, the other shorter and with brown hair hanging freely. Both wore blue and white habits adorned with golden crosses, similar to what Sasha wore.

"Because, because Elt came back and you didn't tell us!" protested Lisia, the taller girl.

"That's because it's long past your bedtime," Sasha said. "Elt's return would have been a nice surprise for tomorrow morning."

The two girls ran past Sasha and threw themselves at Elt. He could have stopped them by force, but it was safer—and more entertaining—to let them push him backwards onto the bed.

"Ellllt!" cried Emiyu, the shorter girl. "Big Sis Sasha is bullying usss!"

"Keep your voices down, you mustn't wake any of the others," Sasha said. "You're in enough trouble as it is."

"And Sasha isn't bullying you two," Elt said. "She's just doing what's best for your health."

Elt sat back up and put the two girls on his lap. They were growing heavier, but their weight was still tolerable thanks to his training.

"How is keeping a secret supposed to be what's best for us?" Lisia asked.

"It's like that bad priest who keeps trying to take Big Sis away, saying it would be best for her," Emiyu said.

Elt and Sasha exchanged a worried glance. In the Theocracy of Lescatie, such statements regarding the priests could result in harsh punishments. Perhaps people would be more lenient towards children, but not by much. From the moment they were old enough to speak, all residents of Lescatie were supposed to dedicate themselves to the Order.

"Lisia, Emiyu, it's not like that," Sasha said gently. "Waiting to tell you all that Elt returned wouldn't really hurt you. And even that priest is… being considerate of me, in his own way."

"Now, it's time for you two to go to bed," Elt added. "We'll play a lot in the morning, okay?"

"Okaayyy…"

The two orphan girls reluctantly got off Elt's lap and left the room. Sasha shook her head as she watched them leave.

"Those two, they're becoming more and more wilful with each passing day," Sasha said.

"Perhaps they're taking after the person who raised them," Elt suggested. "After all, I remember a certain someone asking her mother, again and again, why she kept working for higher-ups who didn't care about the slums."

Sasha turned pink. "That's… well, that certain someone had to grow up quickly, and learn that the world wasn't so simple."

Sasha's mother, Alexandria Fullmoon, had also been a hero of Lescatie. Along with her husband who was also a hero, she'd founded this church and the attached orphanage to help the people of slums. But her husband had died in combat some time before Sasha was born. And six years ago, Alexandria had died as well, leaving the nineteen-year-old Sasha to take over the church. Sasha was already a hero in her own regard by then, and had dedicated herself to her parents' work… but there were always lots of mouths to feed, and so the church had gradually become dilapidated.

"At any rate, I'm glad you've returned, Elt," Sasha said. "I hope you have a pleasant sleep."

"You too, Sasha," Elt said. "And don't worry about breakfast tomorrow, I'll take care of it. And I won't take no for an answer."

Elt looked Sasha in the eyes until she eventually looked away.

"Oh… all right."

-ooo-

From atop a nearby rooftop, a copy of Druella looked at the church. The night breeze was chilling up here, with nothing to obstruct its flow, but she didn't even shiver.

It's hard to believe one person can have so many connections to major figures, and to the common people at the same time… but this should be very helpful for us.

Planning out what to do with Lescatie had taken several days of gruelling discussion, covering every single possibility and leaving no avenue unturned. Druella had actually felt bad about taking up so much of her parents' valuable time together. But they'd simply shrugged that off.

We've been together for five hundred years now, Mother had said. We can give up a few days for something as important as this.

Even now, the discussion hadn't actually finished. But they had come up with a preliminary plan.

First, Mother and Father would remain in Royal Makai. When beings of their level moved, the world took notice, resulting in widespread fear and confusion among the Order and neutral countries. Apparently it hadn't always been this way, but the couple's steady increase in power over the past centuries had resulted in their current situation. In short, unless the situation became truly dire, they would be staying put.

Not having their support is slightly frightening… Still, I can't stay a little girl being protected by my parents forever.

Second, Druella could only act if she could feasibly persuade a majority—at least—of Lescatie's population that monsters weren't evil. A lofty goal, one that most people would consider impossible, but it looked like there were paths towards it.

From what I've seen, most of the common people don't care about the Order as much as their own livelihoods. Not too different from people in the rest of the world. And even many of the nobles and priests… care more about their luxuries and political games than actually fighting monsters. The heroes are the biggest threat, but… there are ways to influence them as well.

Third, Druella, her parents and many others would work on gathering personnel to help Lescatie with its many problems. This would take some time, not least because they had to avoid any conspicuous actions that might alert the country.

Hopefully, we can take the city without casualties… but that might be too much to hope for.

Lastly, Druella should continue observing Lescatie and report everything back to Royal Makai. Even seemingly trivial details, like slight changes in the local fashion, should be reported. And if it seemed like Lescatie had noticed her, she should retreat immediately.

If that happened, it would probably be portrayed in Lescatie as their valiant heroes scaring off a lilim… along with encouragement to donate more to the churches. And nothing would change. More people would end up in situations like Mirri's.

I can't let that happen. Lescatie has to change.

Druella stood up and began running along the rooftops. She was currently invisible and keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible, but she still did not let down her guard. Only when she was outside the city did she allow herself to relax.

The wilderness outside Lescatie was quite a different place at night. Nocturnal animals such as owls and moths and rats were now present, there were no longer humans training or patrolling… and monsters now lurked in the shadows, just like in the human stories.

Druella made her way to a nearby woodland and sat down in a clearing. Nearby, the shadows rippled and twisted, eventually forming a monster.

"Sorry for being late, Lucella," Druella said.

"It's no problem at all, Your Highness."

The newcomer was a baphomet, one of the rare monsters whose physical strength and magical power were both formidable. She had hair and fur of the purest black, deep brown skin, blood-red eyes, and the horns and cloven hooves possessed by others of her kind. Over this, she wore a deep blue dress, mantle and necktie. Unusually, she had the form of a little girl who was half Druella's height, even though she was actually over a century old. That was because this particular baphomet liked to change her appearance frequently.

"Come on, there's no need to be so formal," Druella said. "It's not like we're at court and you need to keep up appearances."

"If that's what you wish… Druella," Lucella said. "So, what have you discovered?"

Druella recounted her observations over the past three days. She felt hungry partway through, so she pulled out some magically preserved sushi and began eating. She also insisted that Lucella join in as well, despite her protests that she didn't deserve to share a lilim's food.

"…and that's what I've learned," Druella said. "What have you seen in Lescatie, Lucella?"

Lucella was one of a few allies who'd already signed on to the plan to help Lescatie. She was also, at this point in time, the only one trusted to infiltrate the city and not be discovered.

"Well, I was quite interested in the magics they practice…"


AN: Much of this chapter is directly based on several Fallen Brides stories, just from Elt's perspective and with some minor changes. I've also added in some details from later works, like the importance of jam in Lescatie's cuisine (no, seriously, check out the "Demon Realm Jam" section of World Guide - Side II if you don't believe me).