Demons were among the oldest and most dangerous beings in existence. Their bodies were made of condensed mana given physical form, which meant most people could not truly kill them. Even if a demon was “killed” in the mortal world, they would simply reform in the demon realm.

  Even an average demon could easily surpass an elven mage in raw magical power. And elven mages were historically famous for being some of the best magic users around.

  That power, however, came with a weakness. The mortal world did not have enough mana to sustain them for long. Over time, their bodies would weaken and they would slowly be pulled back to the demon realm, where mana was far denser.

  Because of this, most demons couldn’t remain in the mortal world for long, with only a few exceptions. A demon could survive outside the demon realm by forming a contract with a mortal, like Belle had with him, or by possessing a host.

  And judging by Nia's explanation, the young master of this estate has been "sick" for approximately three years. When they reached a set of black doors, Nia turned to face Lucian. “Behind those doors is the young master of this estate, Leon Belkov.”

  Lucian had no idea what a Belkov was, but from the size of the estate and the quality of its furnishings, he guessed that it was a noble house of some standing in Celgrad. “How is the boy holding up?”

  Tears started to well in Nia's eyes. “Master Leon's illness never fully went away. He would get better for a day or two, then worse again. Now he is too weak to even stand. I’m scared that one day he won't—"

  Lucian placed a hand on her shoulder. “I'm going to make sure that Leon will be fine, you can trust me."

  Nia nodded quickly and wiped her cheeks again before opening the doors and leading them inside. Just before Lucian stepped through, he glanced at Belle, and she returned the look with a small, knowing nod.

  The room was large and well decorated, yet something about it felt deeply wrong. Heavy curtains blocked most of the light outside, and even the lamps burned low.

  Nia rushed to the bed, and Lucian followed. Leon Belkov looked no older than seventeen, his skin was pale, cheeks hollow, and he was so thin that his bones showed clearly under his skin.

  Suddenly, the boy’s body jerked. His arms twitched, and his back arched slightly as a tremor ran through him. Lucian frowned as he knew that kind of convulsion was not random.

  From experience, Lucian had seen those kinds of convulsions in possessed individuals more times than he could count. They were always the result of a long internal struggle. The demon would push for full control, and the host would fight back with everything they had. Over time, that constant battle would wear the body down more and more.

  Nia hurried to the boy’s side and then looked up at Lucian. “Can you really help Master Leon?”

  “Yes,” Lucian said. “But I’ll need to concentrate.”

  Nia nodded. “Of course, I—”

  She didn’t finish. Her body suddenly went slack, and she collapsed, almost hitting the ground. Belle caught Nia before she hit the floor and guided her down gently.

  Belle settled the trembling maid into a nearby chair, adjusting her posture so her head rested properly instead of slumping to the side. Nia’s basket slipped from her hands and landed softly on the carpet, the bottles inside clinking once before going still.

  What was about to happen would not be suited for an unprepared mind. Lucian had no intention of explaining things that did not need to be explained, and Belle understood that as well.

  For all her jabs and dry sarcasm, Belle always knew when Lucian was being serious. And that was something he always appreciated.

  Belle stepped closer to the bed, her gaze fixed on Leon. “The possession has been ongoing for approximately three years. Possibly longer.”

  Lucian exhaled, looking towards Leon. “Then I can only hope the boy is an isolated case.”

  He reached out and rested his hand on Leon’s forehead, casting a spell. Divine Purge.

  Light erupted from Lucian’s hand, pouring over Leon like sunlight cutting through heavy fog. The boy's back arched against the bed as his lips parted in a soundless gasp.

  Thick black smoke bled from his mouth, from his skin, from places no shadow should have been able to hide. It writhed and twisted as it emerged, gathering behind Lucian and Belle in a churning mass.

  It coiled and condensed, pulling itself together as if driven by instinct alone, until it no longer looked like vapor at all. When the last trace tore itself from Leon’s body, his chest finally fell still.

  Lucian turned slowly to face what had been forced out, and what stood there was unmistakably a demon. Its head was a bison’s skull, cracked and jagged, with deep fractures running through the bone. Hollow eye sockets burned with a dull, hateful glow, and dark energy leaked from between the gaps in its skull.

  The eye sockets were hollow, but Lucian still felt the weight of the demon's stare. Its body was pitch black, vaguely humanoid shaped, though with limbs that had unnatural proportions.

  Thanks to Lucian’s spell, the demon’s form looked badly damaged. Deep fractures split across its torso and arms, glowing faintly as dark mist bled from the cracks and hissed away the moment it touched the air.

  The demon straightened anyway, forcing itself upright through sheer spite. Its skull tilted toward Lucian, and the empty sockets burned brighter, filled with raw hatred. “I am Orryx the Bleak-Hearted,” it snarled.

  “You tore me from my vessel, shattered my form, and dared to leave me standing like this. Now answer me, mortal, who are you, that you think yourself worthy of my wrath?”

  The question genuinely caught Lucian off guard. Very few demons had ever failed to recognize him, even if only by reputation. Most of them hated his name long before they ever saw his face.

  A quick glance at Orryx told him enough. The creature’s form was more bestial, far from the increasingly humanoid shapes higher-ranking demons preferred in their true bodies.

  Orryx had to be a lesser demon, likely nothing more than a foot soldier during the last demonic invasion, also sometimes called the great demonic war. Perhaps he had been cut off from the main force when the war ended, stranded in the mortal world and forced to survive by hopping from one human host to another. If that was the case, it explained why he hadn’t recognized Lucian at all.

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  Knowing that made Lucian feel a reluctant sense of pity. But even so, he did not soften his words. “I am Lucian of Arcadia, the man who killed the Demon Lord Asmodeus.”

  Orryx froze for a second after hearing that, and then laughed. “You are a bold one, mortal. But do not insult me with such lies.”

  "Do you really think I'm lying?"

  "Of course! Lord Asmodeus is the strongest demon who has ever lived, or ever will live. There is no possible way that he would lose to a mere mortal."

  Lucian stared at Orryx, oddly confused. For a moment, he wondered if the demon was trying to trick him, but a growing part of him suspected Orryx was genuinely clueless. “Where have you been for the last few centuries?”

  “I owe you no answers, human,” Orryx spat. “And if there is any justice left in this world, I will end you where you stand and savor every second of it.”

  “Go on then, try attacking me and see how far that gets you.”

  That was all the permission Orryx needed. The demon lunged, claws reaching for Lucian’s chest. Yet, before it could touch him, a barrier of bright light snapped into place.

  Orryx screamed as his hand struck the barrier and was burned back. He staggered away, clutching his arm as the flesh blackened and split, leaving twisted bone exposed. Dark mist leaked from the wound, thinning as soon as it touched the air.

  Orryx stared at his ruined hand, his voice shaking. “How… how is this possible?”

  “It’s very simple. You’re a lesser demon, and I am not someone you can afford to challenge.” Lucian said.

  Orryx took another step back, and at the same time Belle moved forward. “Stand down, if you value what remains of yourself.”

  The demon turned on her. “I will not take orders from an elf—”

  He stopped mid-sentence. Horns emerged from Belle’s head while wings unfurled behind her, filling the space with a crushing presence. A glowing sigil flared to life on her right hand, burning with power older than the room itself.

  Orryx froze, his jaw slack. “No… no, that can’t be… General Diabelle?”

  Belle let her power linger just long enough to make the point, then dismissed it. Her horns and wings vanished, and the sigil faded from her hand. “It is me, and the war has been over for a long time. If you have any sense left at all, you will not attack Master Lucian.”

  “Master?” Orryx repeated with disbelief. “A general like you is serving a human?"

  “Circumstances have changed. This is my life now.”

  Orryx slowly turned to Lucian. “How did you force a demon general into obedience? What did you do to her.”

  "Eh, not much, Diabelle was the one who offered her services to me you see." Lucian said.

  “That’s impossible!"

  Orryx looked back at Belle. “General Diabelle, you can’t have chosen this. Serving a human—”

  “My choices are none of your concern.”

  For a moment, Orryx simply stared at her, as if trying to reconcile reality with the past. Then he began to laugh.

  It started low and rough, and then it grew louder until it echoed through the room. The sound twisted and unsteady as black vapor leaked from his body with every shake.

  Lucian watched him with mild interest. “Would you care to explain what seems to be so amusing?”

  Orryx’s laughter slowed, though it did not fully stop. “You’ll have to forgive me, mortal, I simply find my situation… fascinating. From where I stand, there are only two possibilities. Either you truly are who you claim to be, and General Diabelle has genuinely chosen to serve you.”

  His skull turned slightly toward Belle. “Or, this is an elaborate deception by whoever the two of you really are. A trick meant to frighten me into surrendering.

  “And which do you think it is?”

  “I am about to find out.”

  Orryx lunged at Belle with a claw, though he never reached her. There was a sharp, wet sound, as his arm fell away at the elbow before his mind could catch up with what had happened. The severed limb hit the ground and dissolved at once into black mist, which hissed and thinned as it touched the air.

  Belle had not moved from her spot, but she lowered her hand slowly, black ichor clinging to her fingers for a brief second before she flicked it away. “The next time you attempt something so foolish, I will go for your head."

  Orryx staggered back and stared at the empty space where his arm had once been, dark ichor leaking from the stump. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to Belle again, and this time there was far more reverence than hatred in his hollow eyes. “Forgive me, General. But… I needed to be certain.”

  Seeing Orryx falter, Lucian decided it was time to wrap things up. “I will give you a choice. I can banish you back to the demon realm, or I can destroy you completely. Choose wisely."

  Orryx slowly turned toward him. Then, the lesser demon lowered himself onto one knee. “There is little waiting for me in the demon realm. I choose the second option."

  “As you wish."

  Light began to gather in Lucian’s palm. At first it was only a faint glow, soft and warm, but it quickly grew brighter, and darkness recoiled from it as if burned.

  Orryx stayed kneeling as the light expanded outward, washing over his fractured body. The cracks in his body widened, and his skull started to crumble into pieces.

  In seconds, Orryx’s body broke apart completely, dissolving into fragments of dark mana that were consumed by the light before they could scatter. When the last trace of him vanished, the glow in Lucian’s hand slowly dimmed and the room returned to normal.

  Lucian lightly dusted his hands together. "Well, glad that turned out better than expected. It's been a while."

  Belle glanced at him. “Since you’ve killed one of my kind.”

  “Oh? Is that some trace amount of sentimentality I sense from you?"

  “Of course not. That fool Orryx was weak, and thus, not particularly interesting.”

  Lucian gave Belle an amused look, finding her blunt honesty far more entertaining than the demon had ever been. He then glanced around the room once more, checking for any lingering corruption, and when he found none, he gave a small nod to himself. “Well, with Orryx dealt with, I suppose we can finally relax a little."

  Belle gave him a flat look. “There is still a boy in this room. One who has had a demon forcibly torn from his body after three years of possession.”

  “Right, good point.”

  He rushed back to the bed together with Belle. Leon was still lying there, pale and painfully thin. His breathing had grown even weaker than before, somehow, though it was good to see that the boy was still alive.

  Lucian stepped closer and placed a hand on Leon’s forehead. A warm golden glow spread from his palm as he cast Greater Restoration.

  Bit by bit, some color returned to the boy’s face, and his breathing grew more even. As the healing continued, Lucian glanced over at Belle. “So, uh, who exactly is this child? I know his name now, but is he important?”

  “From what I recall, Leon Belkov is the third son of Duke Nikolai Belkov.” Belle said.

  “Does that make him special?"

  “Obviously yes. The son of a duke, even if not the firstborn, is still highly important."

  "Fair enough, guess I'll have to do some more reading on Celgrad's nobility after this."

  As Lucian continued healing Leon, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong. The demon was gone, yet there was still a deeper kind of damage that the boy suffered from.

  He narrowed his eyes and quietly channeled mana into them, sharpening his sight beyond the physical. Lucian's gaze moved from the physical and towards Leon’s soul, until he found what he was looking for, the boy’s mana core.

  A mana core was a vaguely spherical construct formed within the soul, an organ made of condensed mana that allowed a person to gather, refine, and use magical energy. Anyone capable of casting even the most basic of spells had one.

  In a healthy person, a mana core should look bright and full of life. Leon’s was still bright, which was honestly surprising after being drained by a demon for years, but that was where the good news ended. Because Lucian saw cracks across Leon's mana core, and quite a lot of them.