Crunch Thump Crunch Thump Crunch Thump Crunch Thump Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Thump Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch A light breeze starts to blow, kicking up torrents of petals and winged seeds. It's a display reminiscent of schools of fish, flowing together as a single organism. Into the warm afternoon sky, they flutter, against a blue and gold backdrop dotted white. Over flowers and foliage where the sun shines, snow and frost where it doesn't. Between towering evergreen trees, beneath and above their canopy, through the lowest branches hanging just out of our reach, and off to the distant cliffs and chasms that stagger the view up to the mountainous horizon. ...Our eyes turn downwards. The tip of a dead tree lies at our feet, its broken branches slice into the ground. As we look further past the branches, we spot a maroon eye on its trunk, drawn in blood. An eye... drawn in demonic blood... This must have been our doing, right? Crier looks over her shoulder, back the direction we came. Sure enough, three meters off the ground, maroon eyes, drawn on every tree. Every eye is facing away from the cave, but all of them have withered and dried. It seems they haven't been maintained because we can't smell the blood at all. We feel there's something strange about that. Looking forward, beyond the fallen tree, we find its origin point. The bottom fraction of the fallen tree is still standing albeit barely. The higher up we look, the more battered and destroyed it appears, up to three meters where the damage stops... and so does the tree. The blood red eye on this dead tree was also drawn three meters up... which... begs the question... If we were the ones who drew these... ...then why are they so high up as to be out of reach? Even stretching on our toes isn't enough. We look up further. It's Jing'ra. Sing pulls the flower out of her hair and crumples it. She throws it at him. 『 Get lost. 』『 Edgelord. 』 He doesn't flinch as it flutters off his mask. He just stares at us, as was -- and still is -- common of him. Maybe if he showed up earlier, we'd be clinging to the sight of him. We were desperate some time ago, survival was really all we had on our minds, but the opportunity has since passed, given a choice, we'd rather not. Our odds of survival aren't even really better with him, they may even be worse. What an eyesore. Sing packs a snowball and throws it. This time he dodges it, moving by no more than exactly enough. The snowball might have actually done one damage if it hit. It seems he hasn't forgotten about the results of our "fight." We stare back. He continues. What does he want from us now? Is he expecting us to do something? Whatever, fine, we'll play your game. "Figure out what Jing'ra wants!" Tch. Crier waves the pouch of meat. Jing'ra doesn't react. Sing waves the black dagger. Jing'ra doesn't react. Okay. Crier takes off her hair piece. Sing takes off her hair piece. Jing'ra doesn't react. We're not taking off any more than that. Can't we just suppress him with demonic miasma? Sing packs another snowball and breathes into it. Toss. He swats it out of the air.

Wow, rude? Alright... fine. Let's seriously consider him for a moment. He's missing half of his hinged jaw, and his mask has a new paint job. His noble clothes have been exchanged for a colour-faded duster and lots of nondescript leather. He has a lot more pouches and straps too. The number of dark blades he carries seems to have gone up dramatically, so much so that they form a feather-like armour in several places. He's also wearing a scratched metal helmet and a mace is holstered(?) horizontally behind his back. The only equipment that doesn't appear to have changed are the bitter gauntlets he wears on his four hands. Considering this, it seems he's gone through some battles and has forgone formal appearances for more practical equipment. And right now... he's sitting silently atop the remains of the battered tree. ... Nope, nothing is coming to mind, aside from maybe, entertaining the idea that the entire forest floor really did drop some meters. Those drawn eyes and the battered tree's breakpoint kind of line up too nicely, but that's a tertiary concern right now. Jing'ra's speaking in riddles, minus the riddles, and the speaking, which is to say he's being a complete waste of time at the moment, but there's also no way we can just ignore him being here! Why is he here?! What does he want?! This is Demon King levels of intentional silence! A horrible idea pops into our heads. ...We touch our necks. Jing'ra's head dips a little. No no no no no no no. What are you doing? Why are you reacting to that? Why is that significant to you? Ah, he's surely referencing the collars we abandoned. That's it, that must be it, he wants those back, surely. It was purely coincidence. It's about the collars. Jing'ra reaches into one of his pouches and lobs two specks towards us. We back up, and watch them fall into the snow, then look back at him. He points back at the tiny objects he threw. Sing carefully brushes away the snow. 『 «Identify» 』

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LV.30 ▬ Kaligo Suraeda

Demonic Miasma Suppressant Ring

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Effects ▐ ◈ Demonic Miasma Suppressant

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Okay, yeah, sure, whatever! We put both rings on lightly so we can whip them off if we need to. He probably wants to follow us, right? That's fine, we can lead him to the collars. If that's all, then... whatever, you know? It's not worth risking our lives for- Where is he going? Jing'ra jumps down from the dead tree scattering a hundred petals into the air. Then he turns and beckons us towards him with a slight flick of the wrist. Oh, of course, he doesn't want the collars back. He has new collars and wants to put those on us. That's fine we have the Feral title, we'll just- He starts walking away. H-Hey... didn't you... want to put collars on us? You do... right? This was about collars! Right?! That's why you... reacted that way to... 『『 Hey... 』』 He keeps walking. We bite our lips. 『『 Jing'ra! 』』 He stops and looks over his shoulder at us. That's... there's no way, right? It's impossible, right? He can't be... It's a coincidence... 『 Say something... 』

Jing'ra doesn't react. 『 «Identify»! 』 〖 Identification was obstructed. 〗 He stares at us. It starts looking more and more as though he's pitying us. Is he trying to get under our skin? No... no, he's not, it's our imagination. There's no way he understands how to do that. He doesn't understand us at all after all. Only two people in the world understand us, and those two people are the people that killed us, and those two people aren't him... ...but then why did he react to us touching our necks? What does he know? What does he want? Where is he going? We don't have to follow him, he isn't forcing us to... but this taste of truth and closure... What... do we do? He's just walking away again... If... if we leave now... or just let him walk away... We'd probably just... go and... hunt a bit, right? Then look for shelter? Maybe level up Crier and learn some skills, or figure out what skills we already have... We could be here a few more weeks, but... eventually, we could start crafting equipment...? And once we'd gotten strong enough, we'd probably challenge a boss for a power spike. We'd be comfortably strong then, and... would probably start looking for people... Preferably a small village, we'd dye our hair to look more natural to fit in... Then... we could introduce ourselves by healing someone. If we don't learn how to use potions by then, we could use our own blood. We'd be welcomed, and maybe.... we could... grow up there, just... normally. Maybe, make normal friends. Once we'd become adults... if we haven't branched into anything else, we'd probably become healers of some kind. Move out into a more secluded home, live on our own... We might even be a bit famous by then for miraculous recoveries! Eventually... we might get branded as witches or some other nonsensical thing, but at that point, that'd be okay. It wouldn't matter what baseless rumours came up, parents will do anything for their children, the bad publicity would be moot... People would come to us, they'd tell us their stories, we'd be isolated and impartial... ...and, we could do that forever, since... pure-demons stop ageing at a certain point. Our passion for expressions would be quelled with all the tragic patients and smiles. Our curiosity for the world would be sated by proxy, we wouldn't have to adventure. Maybe... we could even, choose not to live alone at some point. That's... that's probably what would happen if we don't follow Jing'ra. We'd... eventually... live a somewhat peaceful fantasy life... It's not that hard to imagine... something like that... But... if we did that... we... might never know... We may never find out who Jing'ra was, or why he came to our aid. Who's to say we'll ever see him again? What if we need him after all? He's trying to take us somewhere, isn't he? Where? What if he's bringing us to someone? What if he's... one of... One of those two. We swallow a breath. Can we live forever, never knowing? Letting one of our killers walk away scot-free? The ones who subjected us to hell and back? Sing touches her head. We still remember the feeling of being patted. Crier touches her neck. We still remember the vice grip of being killed. Jing'ra has been one step ahead of us. The actions he's taken have been deliberate. Matters concerning him have left us confused. He knows more than we do, that's the bottom line... What does he know? What does he want? Where is he going? Where were we? How did we come to this world? Did he find us first? He used «Spirit Break» on us, why? He could have just suffocated us, right? You want to use «Spirit Break» on wild, violent, or rampaging monsters to preserve their bodies... but it wouldn't have even been a fight with us... The Infatuation effect on him was absurdly high last time, why? How? He left us a care package when we woke up, but then disappeared... Now he's come back... having waited for us. And what did he see... when we touched our necks? Are we okay... abandoning all of those answers...? ...What do we do? What do we want to do? What will... Eldritch Fear... allow us to do? 『 ...Sing. 』 Crier tugs on my arm. Jing'ra is starting to weave into the trees. Leaving this decision up to big sister Sing then?

Hm... if it's me... then your safety is most important so... 『 I want to end them. 』 I blink. She's referring to those two. Marie, and The Demon King. The one who physically killed us... and the other who kindled our ugliest traits. I look at her expression. Her straight posture, her clenched fists. Her slightly tightened lips and focused gaze. Light shimmers over her eyes. She looks... determined... 『 Well then... 』 I close mine and sigh. 『 ...I guess I do too. 』 I take her hand, and we run to catch up. If there's... a sliver of a chance that they are here... There's no way we can willingly let them get away... There's no such thing as peace for us in a world where they exist. That manipulative Demon King... and that sadistic psychopath Marie... If Jing'ra... turns out to be one or both of them, then Jing'ra... has to die. We manage to catch up to him. Crier is out of breath already... ...So Jing'ra picks her up with «Fey Breath», carrying her with magic. Although it's the same updraft wind as before, it feels a bit stronger. His gauntlet grasps the tip of her side tail, making sure she doesn't drift away. It... surprisingly doesn't hurt at all... being held like a balloon by her hair. Still, I grip his coat tightly to let him know that I can walk just fine. Even if it's better than collars, I prefer to have my feet on the ground. He glances at me for a bit, then looks ahead. ...We stare at his mask. Following Jing'ra, for now... that's what we want to do. Hiding was always an option, that's everything the cave was... Although this path may be harder, riskier, longer... the potential payoff... is too much to pass up. Deathless... hard mode... New Game Plus... that's the only choice Devil Twins could make anyway. Are you watching, Demon King? This is what you wanted, right? Marie, are you listening? Don't think you've won yet... We're just getting started, you know? A breeze rolls by. It's as if gravity has reversed with all the petals soaring skyward. Our shoulders feel lighter. What is this? Absolution? Catharsis? Maybe this is just... how it feels, finding direction again... a proper objective to pursue, even if it's... a grim one. Honestly... If you ask us... This feels... pretty good. This feeling of moving... This fleeting feeling... Maybe this is what The Demon King meant. SING CRIER CH.10 - I, The Dream Eater Did you ever ride down that one playground slide as a kid? The one that seemed monstrously huge, and scary when at the top? Growing up, and thinking back to it, it was probably not even that big, it's just that you were tiny at the time, so it seemed larger than life. We're having a moment like that right now. Jing'ra has taken us to the steep rock hill that we had trouble climbing over ages ago. Except, the difference is, the hill seems way bigger than we remember. Like, 1000% bigger, it's actually at least a twenty-meter high cliff face. Ah, hang on, aren't we mistaken? Isn't this way too big of a difference? A still pond of water has appeared at the base of the cliff-like hill, a small narrow basin that much of the snow appears to have melted into. It doesn't seem as though we can go up this way, much less, even reach the hill to start climbing... Jing'ra holds out his hand palm up to Sing. We stare at his open hand, then have Sing put her hand there. Is this the infamous "shake" trick taught to dogs, or what? He stares at her. That doesn't appear to be correct. Maybe he's staring at something else? After some shifting, and a bit of trial and error, his grip closes around the black dagger Sing returns. Wait, then "Mainidai" really doesn't mean "Give it back"? He said that when we first met after he gave Crier a potion to drink... but... he chose not to use that word here... ... Is he entertaining himself or something? As if we needed more reasons to kill him... We give him the dagger without any fuss. It isn't realistic to assume we can beat him a second time anyway, if you can even call that pitiful surrender attempt a victory. Free of the dagger's weight, he uses «Fey Breath» on Sing. She holds tightly onto his sleeve to keep herself from being blown away. If he's planning to do what we think he's planning to do, then he could probably use the free arm. With both of us suspended in the air... he crouches. Yep, he's definitely doing that. He jumps, high, despite all the armour- Crunch! -and latches onto the steep rocky hill across the water. Crier actually has an easy time since her hair is really elastic. Sing has to struggle a bit more to hold on but she's tough, she manages. He leaps from point to point, taking a short break in between each. Even his massive stamina pool has limits, we suppose. Leaping that far with that much weight must destroy his SP. ...Go Jing'ra! You can do it! Jump jump jump! 『 Do your best!~ 』 Crier claps without a care in the world. Sing rolls her eyes. He makes one especially large jump to make it to the top. It's very close, any shorter and we might have been in trouble, but he manages, and sets Sing down shortly afterwards. Hm hm. Maybe Jing'ra... can be a little bit reliable after all? Maybe the teeniest tiniest bittiest reliable... 『 Hmm? 』 He's pointing the handle of a dagger to Sing. Is this the same dagger? Is he giving it back? Well, if he insists, then there's no reason not to, right? We'd be lying if we said we didn't feel at least a bit attached. ...We've never identified it, have we? 『 «Identify» 』 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LV.10 ▬ Eu-Zero

Metal Dirk

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Plain, but that name! We snicker. It's amusing how "Eu" from his nickname is there, but "Zero" is translated. Does that mean that his blades have all been assigned numbers? 『 «Identify» 』 〖 Identification was obstructed. 〗 Eeeeh...?

We're not going to be able to identify his other blades while he's wearing them... Whatever he's using to block our identification is also concealing his equipment. A shame... but if we end up killing him... ...we'll just have to make sure to check. Jing'ra walks us through the second section of the forest. This was where the tall evergreens were, the area doesn't look very different. Their canopies are still high, and their branches are still far out of our reach. There are a couple of flower patches here and there but they're nowhere near as prolific as the ones back at the cave. Only in the few spots the sun shines over do flowers and foliage reign. Everywhere else... snow and frost. Near the cave, it was a war of territory between snow and flower patches, but here, with the lack of sunlight... It's more like the flowers are competing amongst themselves. Snow seems to dominate most of the forest floor here. We can hear the sound of rushing water in the distance. We wonder what the river looks like. That's where Crier almost had her face bitten off. Sing glances at her; she's making a grumpy face. Crier doesn't seem to be looking forward to it. 『 ... 』 Sing wipes her mouth. On the way, she tries not to step on any flowers. Ta-da~ We're here. It didn't take long at all. More polygonal rocks have been revealed, and the bushes have tripled in height. The small waterfall has grown dramatically and now roars with white water, while the river has more than doubled in width and speed, becoming violent. The fallen-tree-trunk-bridge appears to be the only safe way across... but even then, just barely. Jing'ra could probably make the jump, but we'll leave that for him to figure out. 『 Fish! 』 『 Eh? 』 Crier points at the river where a fish's tail vanishes into the rapids. It was red and had long fins; there wasn't enough time to identify it. Jing'ra gaze is focused there too, we wonder if he saw it. Seeing a non-hostile animal... It's refreshing, it gives us a tinge of hope. 『 Wah! Another one! 『 It leaped out of the water! 『 It's amazing, isn't it?! 』 While Crier distracts herself with fish, Sing looks up at Jing'ra's jaw. Maybe... he can't speak anymore? He hasn't said a word since he appeared. The first time we met Jing'ra, he talked every now and then... They were mostly single-words, but he did speak... Can scarecrow demons not speak... if they lose their "mouth"? 『 «Identify»! 』 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LV.3 ▬ Sjinyu

Ray-finned Fish

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HP ▐ 29/30

MP ▐ 30/30

SP ▐ 78/90

P.ATK ▐ 3

P.DEF ▐ 150

M.ATK ▐ 0

M.DEF ▐ 10

Effects ▐ Whitewater Rage[LV.3]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Sing scratches her cheek and looks elsewhere. The fish has better stats than Crier. Damiah Enkirigiri? Damiah Enkiriri? The berry bushes were named something like that. Unexpectedly, they're budding with flowers, but only on their tops. With their height relative to us, they're almost like small trees... There's a sniffling sound in the background. Crier is muttering something about how she hates fish. Jing'ra isn't reacting at all, he's like a statue. ...Let's leave them be. It doesn't take long before Sing's gaze falls to the spot Crier was attacked. She shakes her head when the memory comes back, it isn't the least bit pleasant. Just thinking about the event is giving her a headache... Remembering the pain... the fear... the... 『 ... 』 Sing shuts her eyes tightly, then blinks the memory away. Not the time, nor place. 『 Ah... maybe it's time for an extinction event... 』 Crier is giving the river a thousand-yard stare now. Pain and despair have crept into a deadened smile. ...Hang in there, Crier. 『 Hang in there? 『 That's easy for you to say... 『 Your face wasn't almost eaten... 『 and you never had your shoulder actually eaten... 』 She places her finger on her chin and looks up aimlessly. 『 Ah- I guess you did save me that one time though, 『 even though you pulled my hair to do it... 『 I guess we can call it even... maybe... 』 Sing furrows her brow. 『 Wait... I... pulled your hair...? 』 ...Crier's hair was pulled when the Aggrabon attacked. That was how she was saved from having her face bitten off. Sing was the only one around, so it must have been her... right? It... was... Sing that did that... right? Thunk. Our heads turn to the sound. One of Jing'ra arms is out in front of his face in a blocking position. He doesn't appear to have blocked anything though... false alarm? We look down; there's an arrow embedded in his chest. ...Is he stupid? He immediately picks us up like ragdolls and tucks us under two of his arms. His other two hands are shot to the ground as he sinks his weight down. The snow lights up with magic circles around his hands and feet. We recognize the skill sequence. This is «Shunpo». Seconds pass. A line of grass and snow suddenly erupt.

We're all blinked halfway across the river. Jing'ra sticks his landing on the fallen tree and immediately starts running the rest of the way. Although most of his equipment is tied down with straps, we can hear jostling and clinking from the inside of his duster. The old tree creaks with each step. Just how much is he carrying in his pockets? We can faintly hear an arrow being launched now that we're closer. We look up. The attacker seems to be stationed in the trees but we can't spot them in the cover of the branches. The arrow is in flight. There's nowhere to dodge. Jing'ra puts his arm up to block. This time we get a clear view of what happens. We see a tiny flash on the shaft of the arrow. On cue, the arrow strafes to the left mid-flight. Telekinesis magic? It's being used at long range... So the magic must be at least... level ten? We think? Jing'ra's «Shunpo» is low level. He can't use it here, the cast time is way too long, and he's going to get hit if he just tries to block... How is he going to deal with thi- Eeeeeh?! Don't just swat arrows out of the air! Who does that?! Use a skill or something! Are you a barbarian?! The arrow snaps as he hits it, as if he's denying a basketball. Flowing with his angular momentum, he draws blades from his duster and throws them spinning in the enemy's general direction all in a single rotation. He even manages to catch his footing. It... it looks kind of cool... In no time we're on the other side of the river. We watch the blades vanish within the treetops as he touches down. It occurs to us then -- that the person firing those arrows... could have been... the one that saved Crier... Jing'ra kicks on his afterburners and soars through the forest. His Wind Walking must have gone up at least a dozen levels, because if we look behind us... Turbulence is blowing away foliage, dead, and alive. The attacker doesn't seem to be following us either, not that we would expect them to be able to. Even if Jing'ra's weight hurts his acceleration and flexibility, his top speed is definitely still top of the spectrum. He must get around a lot to need this much spee...d?! The phantom hand- its icy trace carves a valley through our spines. Eldritch Fear rises to level ten, twenty, thirty- 『 STOP! 』 She slams the handle of her dagger into Jing'ra's chest. He flinches. A black silhouette becomes visible ahead of us, high in the air. Half a second passes. We can make out a humanoid shape with black armour, cloth, and wings. Jing'ra turns sideways and crouches close to the ground. The thin snow causes him to enter a slide. Another half-second. Impact. A serrated javelin thunders down, arcing with lightning. Jing'ra shifts into a boxer block, raising his shoulder feathered with black blades. At the moment of contact, the reverberation of a heavy bell rings out, and a blurry after-image of Jing'ra pulses outwards. «Titanic Gambit» -- consumes all stamina and multiplies P.DEF by ten for half a second. If Titanic Gambit fully blocks a physical hit that would have otherwise done damage to the user's HP, the stamina cost is refunded. If the physical damage is not fully blocked, Titanic Gambit instead blocks none. The charged javelin clangs off his improvised blade armour. Half a second passes. The winged enemy catches the repulsed javelin mid-flight in both hands and himself crashes down onto Jing'ra with all of his weight. Jing'ra shifts his weight back. The javelin is delivered back to the same location. Black blades crack and dislodge. 「 Euvieeerr! 」 The armoured man cries out in a hoarse accent. Draconic wings and scaled protrusions make clear his demihuman ethnicity. Jing'ra rotates his upper body. The serrated javelin, having pierced the black blades, dislodge together as Jing'ra's metal feathers fall away. The draconic man's leverage is lost. Jing'ra follows through with his rotation and reaches out to grab him. The man grunts and beats his wings, falling away to avoid his hand. Through this, Eldritch Fear's levels drop slightly, but quickly, they begin to spike again. The phantom hand grips tight, twists, and stretches forward. Crackling pain, and terror. S...Something behind us... Unable to tap Jing'ra's back, we both hastily punch his sides at the same time. Jing'ra flinches again, then looks over his shoulder. Back there, in the shadows of the trees, we see two golden magic circles, and one purple, shining bright and spinning faster and faster. 『『 R...Run! 』』 He stumbles briefly, transitioning from his skid back into a sprint. At the same time, he tears a pouch off his body and whips it at the ground ahead. It hisses -- then bursts into a cloud of rapidly expanding smoke. We immediately breach the fog. As we do this, a voice - a foreign booming voice - echoes from above. Commanding, we feel, based on its inflexion and urgency. Jing'ra is fiddling with something in his duster. There's no time to think, the first glowing arrow whizzes by us. Then the next, and the next, a torrent of arrows as if from an army. No precision, and no safe-zone. We pull our limbs in closer to our bodies, as our breaths shorten and the spinal agony worsens. Jing'ra whips something out of the fog to his forward-right, an iridescent gold chain spawns from thin air and follows it. «Magus's Mandible» -- a destructible chain projectile which is especially inexpensive and easy to manipulate while the caster is in contact with it. He pulls on the chain, and its slack straightens out. Keeping his grip tight, he intentionally allows his footing to slip. We're sent into a tight drifting turn around the chain's anchor point. Once we're about perpendicular to our original trajectory, he lets go, dismissing the chain. An arrow clangs against Jing'ra's helmet. Unfazed, he resumes acceleration. The arrows whizzing by drop in number. Eldritch Fear however, does not drop. We punch Jing'ra's sides once more as we emerge from the smoke cloud. There's still something behind us. Multiple things, all whistling and accompanied by blaring hums. Magical projectiles of an unknown kind. That's not all. There's also something in front of us, a towering grey golem made of stone, its arms are already primed above its head. Jing'ra throws a blade at the golem's thigh, another golden chain trails behind it. We hear a young woman's shout. He then places his free hand atop a blade handle near his hip. The golem's pillar arms descend in a roar. Jing'ra draws the blade, it flashes a bright X-shaped light twice. «Hardlight Impulse» -- After charging a sheathed blade, drawing it will start a one-second timer during which the user can pre-execute a melee attack. After the timer ends, the attack will be executed instantly and the user will dash forward a distance based on level and charge duration. However, we don't dash forward; instead, due to the chain anchor on the golem's thigh, we instantly pass between its legs while completing another tight drifting turn angled upwards. In this way, the dash ends airborne behind the golem's leg instead. Our momentum stops dead there. We look down. Two soldier-like characters are waiting in ambush on the ground. Jing'ra drops something between them. Before it detonates, he whips another chain up into the trees at a branch. Using it, he turns our fall into a downward swing and let's go at the lowest point for maximum velocity. We hear another shout from the womanly voice behind us, briefly followed by three simultaneous noises. One hissing noise, similar to the smoke bomb from earlier. One earthy, the sound of dirt and snow being thrown into the air by the golem. One glassy, the sound of homing magic missiles exploding against stone. ... ...And Jing'ra keeps running. Even as the sounds of battle fade away... and the wind monopolizes our ears again... He keeps running... and running... As he runs, Eldritch Fear... E...Eldritch Fear... ...d...doesn't...fall? Jing'ra suddenly turns around and uses everything he has to slow down. He even draws blades and stabs them into the ground, when that's not enough, he starts casting «Shunpo», but he loses his grip -- and promptly his footing. He wraps us in his arms. We tumble.

And tumble. And roll... to a stop. ...Jing'ra's grip weakens as he now lies on his back. I hurry to push his heavy arms away... and crawl over him to Crier. Sitting my knees on the snow, I quickly raise her up to rest against me. Her consciousness is faint... she's coughing blood. You... you can't do that Jing'ra, she's too fragile... Jing'ra moves to push himself back up with his arms, but to no avail, he falls onto his back again. Some flowers petals pop into the air, as a joke. I look at the arrow, still embedded in his chest. He reaches for it, and grabs hold with two hands. It's yanked out, I see black gunk and straw come out with it. Then his arms fall to his sides. I hear the crunching of glass vials, the ones in his duster must have broken. ... I look around. One dot of light in the distance slowly emerges from behind a tree. One becomes two, two becomes six, fifteen, and forty... More and more, they appear, lights of all kinds... In the trees, on the ground, all around us... Humans... demihumans... elves... demons... All armed, weapons primed, banners raised... Some bear factions on their armour, some don't. I look at Jing'ra, whose chest doesn't rise and fall because he's a scarecrow. I wonder what kind of journey... had gotten him, and us, to this point. I think back to the decisions we've made, and hurdles we've overcome. We'll be fine... right? Eldritch Fear is... ...Shock. I remember being happy just a few minutes ago. I don't know what to do with my body, I keep looking around in disbelief. Dragged into Jing'ra's story, I feel as though I'm looking at his ending. ...Have we made the right choices? At the time... was that the best we could do? I think about these things because I'm afraid it might be game over. The sudden downer ending...? But we made good choices... right? So... why is Eldritch Fear rising still? This... this isn't fair... 『 H-Hey... 』 I push Jing'ra's shoulder. 『 Get up. 』 Jing'ra doesn't react. 『 Where are we going? 『 Where are we? 『Who are they? 』 There's a disturbance in the crowd. 『 We just started, get up. 『 It's too soon to take a nap. 』 The crowd goes quiet, I hear footsteps. I feel a phantom hand gently caressing my spine. Not just for Crier's sake, but for my own, I feel a cold setting in. 『 GET UP! NOW! 『GET UP GET UP GET UP! 』 I bite into my hand and pour my blood over him. I just put it wherever I think might help; he has no mouth. The sun doesn't feel warm at all. 『 Live! Don't you dare! 』 The footsteps get closer. I scream his name. Crier weakly reaches up and touches my face. She shakes her head without opening her eyes. My heart falls. Jing'ra doesn't react. The phantom hand wraps its fingers into a grip. Whoever was walking closer... is standing in front of me now. Standing over us, blocking the sunlight... I look up, expecting... no... hoping. Hoping to see someone I know, at least. The Demon King. Marie. The Hero. Someone. Someone I know, to kill me. But I'm denied even that. I see a stranger's silhouette. An elf with a bow and long red hair that curls up at the ends. She's bleeding, there are deep cuts in her body. Her face is obscured by the light behind her. She's... the one that killed Jing'ra. I know it. Jing'ra only ever threw one attack. ... ...My eyes fall to the ground. ... Ha ha. This can't be real. I don't believe it. 『 «Arch-Fire» 』 The elf looks down on me. 『 «Greater Fissure» «Mass Destruction» «Time Bomb» «Show Stopper» 『 «Critical Failure» «Skyfall» «Seraph Wind» «Absolute Zero» «Zeus» 『 «Jacob» «Pilate» «Rip Song» «Heaven More» «Deus Ex Machina» 『 «Mass Recall» «Void Ender» «Genocider» «Castle Bravo» 『 «Carrion Soul» «Martyrdom» «Materius» «Aleph» 『 «Winged Guardian» «Metal Shell» «Ice Tomb» 『 «Fireball» «Vault» «Falling Leaf» «Windfall» 『 «Substitution» «Pixie Cloud» «Dive Loop» 『 «Wind Walking» «Hardlight Impulse» 『 «Nine Point Strike» «Far Siren» 『 «Cloake» «Shunpo» «Flare» 『 «Inspira» «Healing Hymn» 『 «Soothing Song» «Dispel» 『 «Mimic» «Bushwack» 『«Lesser Glow» 『 «Glitz» 『 «Poppia» 『 «Glistlbell» 『 «Die Toss» 『 «Nullify Pain» 『 «Identify» 』 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LV.1 ▬ Crier '' Streya

ᵈᵢBlack-Lamb Pure-Demon

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

HP ▐ 2/15

MP ▐ 0

SP ▐ 1/20

P.ATK ▐ 1

P.DEF ▐ 101

M.ATK ▐ 0

M.DEF ▐ 0

Effects ▐ ◈ ᵈᵢⓈ∞

▐ ◈ Suppressed Demonic Miasma

▐ ◈ Pure Demonic Blood

▐ ◈ Ruptured Mana Pool

▐ Eldritch Fear[LV.100]

▐ Hemorrhaging[LV.1]

▐ Disarm[LV.12]

▐ Paralysis[LV.9]

Titles ▐ 「 Prophet of Death 」「 Feral 」

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 『 «Identify» 』 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LV.41 ▬ Mak 'Euvier' Jing'ra

Tsukumogami Demon

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

HP ▐ 0/779

MP ▐ 0/489

SP ▐ 0/914

P.ATK ▐ 1401

P.DEF ▐ 6880

M.ATK ▐ 228

M.DEF ▐ 853

Effects ▐ ◈ Goddess's Condemn

▐ ◈ Heroic Bravery

▐ ◈ Suppressed Demonic Miasma[LV.41]

▐ ◈ Affection

▐ ◈ Death

▐ Demon's Bane[LV.10]

▐ Fatal Wounds

Titles ▐ 「 The Fallen Hero 」「 Demon Hater 」

▐ 「 Human Hater 」「 The Enemy 」 「 Elf Hater 」

▐ 「 Beast Hater 」「 Martyr 」「 Speed Extremity 」

▐ 「 Star-Crossed 」 「 Rising Hope 」

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 『 ...«Identify»... 』 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LV.8 ▬ Sing '' Streya

ᵈᵢBlack-Lamb Pure-Demon

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

HP ▐ 79/85

MP ▐ 1

SP ▐ 123/123

P.ATK ▐ 8

P.DEF ▐ 108

M.ATK ▐ 0

M.DEF ▐ 105

Effects ▐ ◈ ᵈᵢⓈ∞

▐ ◈ Suppressed Demonic Miasma

▐ ◈ Pure Demonic Blood

▐ ◈ Ruptured Mana Pool

▐ Eldritch Fear[LV.99]

▐ Disarm[LV.12]

Titles ▐ 「 Prophet of Death 」「 Feral 」 「 Demon Slayer 」

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ I have one mana. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this, but I have one of it. This single point of mana, is really, all there is left, isn't there? This mysterious point of mana, that appeared for no reason, other than to taunt me, and laugh at what has transpired. "Use me," it says, knowing I can't. ... It's gone, it's zero again. I...I'm dead. I stand up. [END] 〖 Create Character 〗 Eh? What is this? I have to make her from scratch? Eh... that sounds really tedious though... No presets or anything... ah... I just want to run and jump again... There. Is that good? Maybe I should ask sis... Ugh... but it's gonna be so hard to get her out again... Oneeeeee-saaaaaaan! Ack, my throat. I hope that wasn't too much... Look! I made a thing!

Yeah... I... made her... You think so? Well... Not really... I'm kidding! Ah! ... S... Streya? Hahaha... Ah... if, I ever go away for a long time... Play her for me... Don't be like that... it's not weird. Don't you want to try being the big sis? Yes you do, don't lie to me. Okay? Promise me. Pinky promise. I see your crossed fingers. There, geeze, you always make things hard. Hmm? What do you mean? That's... It's probably just a cold, you'll be fine. Don't try and be like me, just be you. You're a lot smarter than I am, you can do a lot more. Oh... Sigh. It's okay... It's okay... It's fine... I'm here... You're safe... Yes, triple really... Now pinky promise. Okay? Don't tell mom and dad. Want to play together? Yeah! Let's do it! 〖 Create Character: Sing? 〗 A name? Let's see... She looks just like mine! Ah... well, I guess that's fine. Hmm... How about... Crier? Because you're a big crybaby! Waah waaah! Ahahaha! Ahaha...ha... T-This is... This is nice... I want to play like this forever... F-Forever... and ever... Y...Y-Yeah? M-M...e... T... ... ̞͚͕A̪͉̭h͔,͏͓̭͈̱̭ ̼̞̤̘͎͡t̥̺h̤͝á͕͈͎ͅtͅ ̘̣̭h̛̭̥̥u̼̯̖r̭t̝̠̖͚̟s̖̝̻͖.͓̜̥̺̙ ̬͔ T̖̹̝h̯̘̮̦̠̥́ạ͓̕t̖̠̥͜ ̝̣͞h̩̹͖͙̤̲̹ù̟̱̟͍̻̤͚r̪̪̩̱̘̬͢t̸̟͎͖͚s̸̩͖ ̮͉̖͓͙͜r̸̞͚̞͇͓̮e͖a͚l͓̝ ̸̭̯̦̮ͅb̢̼a̰̺̼̱͚̻͞d͖̬̱̹͖̲̙.̣̥́ N̨̲o҉̘̳̦̟ ̸̳̤̙͉͕̘m͝or̘͞ͅe͚.̥̲͎͈̜

̜͇͕ .̧̕.̀͝'̢̀̕͝ N̞o̹̟̱̻t̵ ̩̺̪̱͉ͅa̹͠g̡̮͚a̞̞̞͍͢i̘̲̩̻̩n҉̭̝.͔͕ͅ .̧̕.̀͝'̢̀̕͝

҉͓̣͈̭̤ I̞t̷̰̲͖̜ͅ ̗̠̜̠̲̼̺h̨͚͉̘u͡r̺̀t̬̖̝̘͞s̠͢.͕͓̀ W̯͠h̵̙̺̞y̭̫̳ ̢͓d̶͔͉͕͕̦̬o̥̬͉̤͓͙ḛ̠̥͘s̱̦ ̻̞͈̼d̢͔̙̹͚̬̮e̹̰̝ą̮̟͚̮tḩ̲̳ ̖̲h͚͖u̴r̵̰̭̜t͍͓͉ ̢s̢̗o̝̪ ͡ḿ͚̟̫̪͉u̼̳̮͈̮c̤̖͡h̥͚̭̜̻̼?̳͈̮̥̤̀ͅ L̟͇͘e̢̙̗̻̭t̪̻͍͔̖̩͚ ̜m͝e̟͔̯̹̪͇̰͠ ̱͚̩̰l̢͙i͇͢v̫̭̺̺͘e,͇̣͍̟ p͔̟͠l̺̲̥̦͟e҉͓̮̯̣͉͖̪a̼s̢͖̞̬͚̞̲̭e͔͕.̜͖̯͝ Ļ̺̭̬̹͇e̝̤͕̹͙̙̹͡t̷̯̮̻͚̦̬͕ ̤m̝̞e͇̖ ̧͍͙̫b̡͎̥̠̺͎ẹ̛̝ ̜̗̺̳̦͚h̟̦̕a̵͇͉̮͍̦p̠̲̖͙̀p̸̯̞̱̪̙̦ͅy̺̦̭̦̖ͅͅ.͞ L̤e̠̳͈t m̯ḛ̬̩̠͉̭ ̗̝b̬e̵ ͚̙w͔̹̺͍į̜͙̩̞̹͇ṯ͇͎̠h ͢h̞̤e͉̩ͅr͏̫̞̰̺̯͚̞.̞͕ G͏̱̟̮̣͓͙e̹̼t̜̼͓ ̶̥͙͖̼m̸͎̟̗͙͓ȩ ͏o̞̘̺͠ͅut̲͚͡.͏̗̙͈̥̠̹͍

̟I̵̙̞'͍͚̠̗̣ͅl̥̝͜l͏̯ ͈̩̹̞̬̭͕͝k̙̺͚͘i͎̝̣̟͉l͕̟͟l̷͎̯͓ ̖̱͘t̫͈͞h̭̱͉e̶̟͉̺̬̪m̘̥̝̙̙ͅ.̜̝̺͘ͅ