My Demons - Chapter 31

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“Phew.”

“Phoenix, are you okay? You look pale.”

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine. I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

Walking beside Daria, I carried a sack of ground grain. Luke had decided to join us at the Inn the next morning after finishing some remaining business as a mortician. I offered to help, but he assured me it wasn’t necessary.

Well, it’s probably nothing. Luke is a seasoned elder, a pioneer of the Spirit Gold sect, and an accomplished necromancer.

After bidding farewell to Luke, Daria and I ran some errands, visiting the workshop and the market. We picked up my repaired equipment, bought special bullet materials for Ellen, and stocked up on various supplies, including oil.

Despite earning a decent amount of money from hunting the alligator, our expenses quickly added up, leaving us with only seven silver coins.

Well, seven silver coins isn’t a fortune, but it’s not insignificant either. We should be fine for a few days without any income, right?

As I contemplated this, doubts about Luke resurfaced.

If Luke truly was the ‘Corpse-Eater’ character I created, he would have been at least a level 15 necromancer. Additionally, he would have possessed the unique items ‘Kurunugia’s Staff’ and the ‘Crown of the Forgotten Ruler’.

These items were graduation-level equipment for a necromancer, and I distinctly remember their impressive attributes. They were not ordinary, run-of-the-mill items, but rather quality pieces that were often discussed in the community. They brought me joy just thinking about them.

Unlike those two items, the hat and cloak Luke currently wore were easily obtainable even at lower levels.

This naturally raised suspicion.

Could it be that Luke isn’t a necromancer at all, but simply a regular mortician passing through?

‘…That doesn’t make any sense.’

Consider this: I coincidentally encounter an NPC who perfectly resembles the unique appearance of a male necromancer. Moreover, he possesses knowledge of basic necromancer spells, and his name, ‘Luke,’ reminds me of ‘Popalluke,’ the default name of the necromancer character.

What are the chances that Luke is an entirely different character from Necromancer Popalluke?

They would be extremely slim.

“Hmm.”

In the end, there were only two possibilities.

The first possibility: Luke is Necromancer Popalluke, but not the ‘Corpse-Eater’.

The second possibility: Luke is hiding something from me.

My pondering came to an end when Daria’s alarmed voice broke the silence.

“Phoei, Phoenix! Look over there!”

“Huh?”

Daria pointed with a horrified expression to a plume of black smoke rising into the sky.

…Wait, that’s…?

“It seems to be coming from the direction of our inn.”

Black smoke billowed in the east. Fear tingled in my instincts, causing a surge of panic within me.

I clenched my teeth and addressed Daria.

“Daria, go. Find the guards.”

“The… the guards?”

I handed the sack of grain and our luggage to Daria, whose face had turned pale.

“Yes, the guards. Hurry and find them. They should be patrolling nearby, so you’ll likely locate them quickly. Understand?”

“What? But… what will you do?”

“Just go!”

Without waiting for a response, I sprinted along the stone path. I hadn’t run much, yet I could feel my heart pounding against my chest.

Damn it, I shouldn’t have left Ellen alone!

Was it the overwhelming sense of anxiety? I felt a chill creep up my spine, heat flushing my forehead, and my vision turning red.

At some point, I realized I was clutching my falchion even tighter.

“Hey, watch out!”

“What’s wrong with that guy?”

People on the street scattered in all directions, startled by my heavily armed figure brandishing a drawn sword.

Eventually, I rushed through the inn’s streets, finally arriving at the Bells & Whistles Inn.

It appeared that the fire had engulfed the first floor of the inn, casting a flickering glow through the doors and windows, while thick black smoke billowed like cumulus clouds.

A group of about ten ruffians, resembling beggars or thieves, huddled near the entrance, snarling at each other.

“Move in quickly!”

“Don’t shove me, you wretched lot!”

“You cowardly brutes! Go in!”

“You go first! We can’t see a thing!”

These attackers of the inn were dressed in rags and wielded crude weapons such as iron rods, daggers, clubs, and hand axes. Though primitive, these weapons were enough to take a life.

Upon closer observation, it seemed that someone was fighting back inside the inn. I caught glimpses of the robbers’ exposed backs, heard muffled screams, the clash of weapons, and the sound of air being sliced apart.

A flurry of question marks filled my mind instantly.

Who are these people? Why are they attacking here? Are they after food and supplies?

Where are the guards who should be handling this chaos?

Someone inside seems to be putting up a fight. Is it the innkeeper?

Could it be Ellen? No, I can hear the clash of weapons. She wouldn’t engage in melee combat.

Then where is Ellen? Is she hiding on the second floor? Has she managed to escape? Or worse…

“Damn!”

I muttered a curse under my breath, collected my thoughts, and swiftly rushed toward the inn. To maximize the element of surprise, I refrained from shouting.

However, the clatter of my armor and the thumping of my boots made quite a noise.

As a result, several men turned their heads in my direction.

“What the hell is this guy…”

My crimson-stained falchion sliced through the babbling man’s throat.

“Gah, gurk!”

The wounded bandit expelled a mix of blood and foam, clutching his neck.

Before the retreating man could collapse, I thrust my shield forward, slamming it into another bandit’s face.

Thump!

The iron edge of the shield shattered the man’s jaw and cheekbone, even bursting his eyeballs.

“Ugh, ack!”

Leaving the stifled screams behind, I lunged my falchion toward another opponent.

“Damn you-“

The toothless bandit turned toward me, hastily raising his iron rod, but my falchion had already impaled his mouth.

“Guh, cough!”

The man writhed, pawing aimlessly at the bloodied blade. By then, the gaze of the other bandits had fixed upon me.

“What the hell is that guy!”

“Kill him, for now!”

I paused for a moment, assessing the situation.

Clearly, they were not seasoned warriors.

Their dirt-streaked faces revealed fear, their attire was shoddy, and they lacked proper armor.

Their weapons were crude, and most importantly, the terror in their eyes as they looked at me was evident.

Having faced similar men on multiple occasions, I knew what was required now.

A display of showmanship to intensify their fear.

I took a deep breath, expanding my chest.

Then, the postponed roar erupted.

“Aaaahh-!”

At the pinnacle of my bellow, my falchion descended.

The bandit, still stumbling backward with the weapon impaled in his mouth, was brutally cleaved across his chest and abdomen.

The surroundings resonated with my thunderous cry.

Guts scattered across the floor.

Three bandits spewing fountains of blood.

The remaining assailants froze momentarily.

Boldly, I leaped into the midst of the bandits, paralyzed by fear.

It was a confident move, knowing that their crude weapons would not penetrate my armor.

Thwack!

My falchion spun through the air, severing a bandit’s neck in a single stroke, causing the rest to scream out in panic.

“Oh no, it’s…”

“Kill him! Kill him!”

Amidst the scattered bandits, one aimed his weapon at me.

I charged straight at him, raising my shield to deflect his sharp dagger, and then…

Thrust.

My sword plunged into his stomach.

“Cough, you bastard-“

Swoosh!

Once more, I swung my arm, the sword cleaving through the bandit’s side, blood splattering in all directions.

Simultaneously, I stepped back and spun around, locking eyes with a bandit aiming for my back.

“Damn it…”

Targeting the retreating bandit, I swung my falchion with a long arc, and the hand holding a short sword dropped with a sickening slicing sound.

“Aargh!”

Oh, that piercing scream.

My ears ached, perhaps due to heightened senses.

Approaching the fallen bandit, clutching his wrist in agony, I lifted my heavy leather boots, studded with steel, and stomped down forcefully.

Crunch.

The sensation of crushing a watermelon under combat boots.

“Hmm.”

I gritted my teeth, barely suppressing a groan. An intense satisfaction surged from my feet up my spine.

Madness. Am I truly alright?

Could it be the effect of the buff skill ‘Thirst’? It feels as though I’m becoming addicted to this dreadful sensation…

A fleeting thought crossed my mind, but my body continued moving without pause.

Somehow, my instincts compelled me to seek further gratification.

So, I puffed out my chest, facing the staggering bandit, and released another fierce roar.

“Come at me!” Yet, the bandits didn’t respond as I had intended. Their morale had been utterly shattered.

“Sh*t. This is wrong! Why is there someone like him!”

“Run, run!”

The panicked bandits began fleeing.

A primal instinct urged me to give chase and mercilessly tear them apart.

Just as I was about to succumb to that impulse, my rationality screamed.

Ellen!

I immediately halted my pursuit and rushed into the inn, consumed by black smoke.

Corpses littered the floor.

Roughly half of them were bandits, while the others appeared to be guests of the inn.

A lifeless young boy lay among them—a familiar face. He was a servant, a boy who assisted at the inn.

I clenched my teeth and charged toward the bandits frantically moving amidst the smoke.

Amidst the chaos, three of them fell to the ground with severed necks before they even realized my presence.

“Plage, what the hell! Watch your back!”

“Kill him!”

Amidst the voices of anger and surprise, a woman’s voice reached my ears.

“Phoenix!”

Turning towards the voice, I saw a mercenary with a shield, withdrawing her sword from a bandit’s neck.

“Grania?”

What in the world is she doing here?

Grania was holding off the bandits from behind the bar.

Beside her, an ax-wielding mercenary caught his breath, his arm hanging limply, while behind him, a woman drew a bow. Both were Grania’s subordinates.

Numerous questions flooded my mind, but there was something more urgent at hand.

“Grania, where’s Ellen!”

“She should still be upstairs!”

“Above? Damn.”

The staircase was engulfed in flames, spreading the fire to the second floor.

Judging by the burning table near the stairs, it seemed like the fire originated there.

I cleaved the face of an approaching bandit with my falchion and propelled myself forward.

Towards the stairs consumed by the inferno.

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