Percival rode Argus through the drier roads of Wolsend. He didn’t plan to journey far, but he put miles of rolling hills and farmland between himself and the city in search of a quiet place to settle for the night.
The inns in the main city were too expensive for his budget. More so, he was certain eyes would be on him now his presence in Wolsend had reached high-ranking ears.
Percival fought a mental war to keep from brooding on the memory. To see Liraeth again, so early... he thought he would be prepared. He thought this face of steel he’d cultivated would hold firm.
But it was very close to cracking. He almost lost his guard and attacked a daughter of one of the Noble Houses of the Elf Kingdom.
In broad daylight.
Perhaps, he wasn’t as ready as he believed.
Percival reminded himself; Revenge wasn’t the most important thing.
It was security.
Once he was powerful enough to defend himself from every force in this damned world, revenge would be a formality.
Getting stronger was the path for now.
Argus drew fearful looks from the few people they passed, and before nightfall, they reached the small village of Cuttleham.
It was a quaint, forgettable place. Percival rode past clusters of thatched-roof cottages and stopped by an inn with a peeling sign that read The Sleeping Trout.
He lifted his scarf to his nose to block the smell of woodstone and manure as he dismounted from Argus.
He returned the Skeleton Steed into its Summon Space and turned to survey the village.
He watched a mother gather clothes from a line and hurry into her house.
Simple people lived here. People who didn’t care about politics or Heroes.
Percival turned and entered the inn.
Clink!
He stepped into the warm common room. The conversation died a little; some curious eyes followed him as he walked to the counter, while others continued with their gist and drinks.
The innkeeper, a balding man with a perpetually nervous smile, looked extremely excited to welcome an Awakener.
"A room? Of course, sir! Finest bed in the village! My daughter will show you the way."
Percival handed him three silver.
The daughter, Elise, was as pretty as one could find in a dull village like this. She was young, with bright eyes, brown hair and a bodice that was laced perhaps a bit tighter than necessary.
She eyed Percival up and down, and then she did it again, and several more times after that.
When Percival caught one of her fleeting glances, she beamed a beautiful smile at him, her eyes sparking with interest for this mysterious, tall man in her otherwise mundane village.
She took the key from her father and walked around the counter.
"Follow me, sir," she said with an intentionally sweetened voice.
Percival did as he was told.
She walked ahead of him up the stairs. Percival watched the seductive sway of her hips as she moved, then he lifted his gaze, as if he’d seen nothing at all.
Elise opened the door to a small, clean room. "Here we are."
She bustled around, fluffing the pillows and smoothing the quilt. "I apologize for the noise downstairs. The older guests get rowdy."
"It’s fine," Percival said, taking off his scarf, sword and waterskin.
When Elise was done, he moved toward the bed, eager for rest, but she stood on his path.
Renji looked down at her with narrowed eyes. She looked up at him, biting her lower lip.
"Would it be okay with you, Mr Awakener, if we... shared the bed? My father... well, he makes me sleep on an itchy straw mat in the scullery. It’s dreadfully cold tonight."
She looked at him through her lashes. The invitation was as clear as day.
Percival stared at her. He looked at the bed. Then he looked back at her with a face as expressive as a brick wall.
"Better the cold than my snoring," he deadpanned.
Elise let out a startled, genuine laugh. "Oh!" she laughed again. "You’re... you are funny."
She smiled, strangely impressed by the rejection.
"Good night, Elise," Percival said.
She licked her lips. "Good night, Mr. Awakener."
They parted and she left after a final glance, closing the door after her.
Percival kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the bed, firmly holding his sword against his chest.
His body was heavy, and so was his mind, but he refused to think at all about anything that happened today.
Sleep, he commanded himself. Just sleep.
He closed his eyes and drifted into the dark.
It wasn’t very long later that he woke up. It wasn’t by his own accord either; an unnatural cold seeped into his bones, dragging him away from his slumber.
Percival’s eyes snapped open. The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight filtering through the window.
Elise was standing by his bedside.
"Elise?"
She held a wooden tray with a steaming bowl of stew. But something looked wrong. She was trembling.
"I... I wanted... to bring... you a... meal..."
Her voice was wet. Like gurgling.
Percival sat up and that was when he saw the massive claw protruding through her shoulder.
It had impaled her from behind, dripping a green ichor and was now lifting her off the ground.
"Mr Awakener?" Elise called him with terror.
The tray slipped from her numb fingers, clattering loudly onto the floorboards.
Behind her, looming in the shadows, was the creature that had stabbed her. All Percival had to see was its green skin.
He activated ⸢Quickdraw⸥, moving faster than thought.
⸢Quickdraw: Drawing the sword and executing a single instant attack at inhuman speed, fueled by mana⸥
Shing.
Percival turned to a streak of silver, speeding behind Elise’s trembling body, and—SQUELCH—shearing his blade through the creature’s arm.
The severed limb fell and the creature shrieked in agony.
Elise collapsed forward. Percival caught her with his left arm, easing her to the floor. Then he spun around and executed ⸢Bladewave⸥ and ⸢High Slash⸥.
The combo carved down the creature apart and it collapsed into a heap of green smoke and slime.
⸢Ding!⸥
⸢You have slain a Demonspawn (Level 22)⸥
Percival looked down at Elise. She was gasping, blood soaking her dress, her eyes wide with shock.
"There’s... so much blood," she whimpered, staring at the crimson waterfall on her shoulder.
"Don’t worry. It missed your vitals," Percival said. "You’ll be fine."
He headed to get his waterskin and a rag to clean and bind the wound. ’Who would have thought that a Demonspawn would show up here?’
But screams from outside froze him in place.
Percival looked outside the window. Behold, the village was burning.
Dozens of shadows were moving in the streets, people were yelling and green smoke curled around the thatched roofs.
There were many more than just one Demonspawn attack.
Percival realized he had walked straight into a Demon Migration.