Demons – Part 02
A few minutes after escaping the boring meeting, Aria was walking down a long corridor, her mind swirling with thoughts about her recent fight with Hilda Cavendish. She was focused on figuring out how to grow stronger, when a sharp headache hit her. She groaned.
“Aren’t you cold?” came a voice from behind her.
Aria turned around to find a man standing there. His uniform marked him as a soldier, but his thin arms looked incapable of wielding a sword, and he carried himself in a gentle manner. The way his brows furrowed in worry made him seem utterly unreliable.
“Me?”
“Yes, well, with you dressed like that.”
Aria looked down at herself and finally noticed the problem. The Militant Nation had a cold climate, and even inside the castle, the chill was impossible to ignore. Her outfit, as revealing as a dancer’s, was hardly suited for the weather. No wonder he was concerned.
“I’m fine. I’m used to the cold.”
“O-Oh, is that so…”
“Thanks for worrying, though. Anyway…”
“Ah, wait!” the man called, and she turned again.
“I’m Ewen Benjamin, an advisor to Lady Zenobia. Pardon me, but are you from the Independent Trade City?”
“Yup,” Aria answered.
“I see. Well, if you don’t mind, could you tell me more about it?”
Aria wasn’t sure what he meant.
Ewen lowered his gaze, his face turning bright red. “I study continental history as a hobby. If you don’t mind, I’d love to hear about the Independent Trade City.”
Ewen’s private room was filled with the warmth of a crackling fireplace, offering a cozy, comforting atmosphere.
“It’s a bit small, though,” he said.
Sure enough, the space wasn’t very large. A bed was tucked into the back corner, and bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with books and stacks of papers that looked like they could fall off at any moment.
Aria took a seat in the center of the room, while Ewen sat across from her, a table between them. Two steaming cups of tea sat on the table, along with a plate of stick-shaped dried food. According to Ewen, it was a local specialty made from ground lamb meat, a snack that had a crunchy texture and a light sweetness.
Ewen handed her a thin fur coat, asking her to drape it over her shoulders. It seemed her outfit was a bit too provocative for him.
“I heard people from the Independent Trade City were coming, and I’ve been waiting for the chance to speak with them,” Ewen began awkwardly. “My father’s a scholar, and I’m trying to follow in his footsteps. And the Independent Trade City was founded by the first Housman, a pioneer in the study of continental history. I can’t help but admire it.”
“Hmm.” Aria gave a noncommittal response. The snack was becoming addictive the more she chewed. Crunch.
“The climate’s warmer than the Militant Nation, right? Since it’s in a volcanic belt?”
“Oh, that makes sense. Yeah, it’s warm over there. But Cecily and the others were complaining about the cold this time of year. They’re a bit soft.”
“What about Prayer Pacts? The Militant Nation doesn’t use jewel steel much, considering how few Aetheria there is in the region.”
“Prayer Pacts? Hmm… Most people in the city don’t really use fire. Craftsmen do, of course, but in daily life, Prayer Pacts are usually enough. They use them to boil water, and jewel steel is used for lighting.”
“Wait, Prayer Pacts are integrated into daily life in the city?”
Ewen’s eyes went wide, clearly shocked, and Aria couldn’t help feeling a little proud. Yeah, the Independent Trade City was pretty impressive. Probably. Crunch.
“The Continental Law, which bans publishing a continental map, is the scholar’s worst enemy,” Ewen grumbled. “I can’t get the info I need, so hearing all this from you is really appreciated!”
He fired off questions one after another—about the Independent Trade City’s government, its population, the Ashen Woods (commonly known as Housman Forest), food culture, specialties from across the continent, the people’s characteristics, among others. Aria did her best to answer, even though some things were beyond her knowledge.
“About the first Housman…”
“Oh, sorry, I don’t know much about him. I’ve only heard his name a few times. Apparently, he’s not related to the current mayor.”
“I see. As I mentioned earlier, the first Housman is not only famous for laying the foundations of the Independent Trade City but also as a pioneering figure in the study of continental history. His sharp insights into archaeology, his ability to find connections between seemingly unrelated things and uncover new truths. He even invented Prayer Pacts. Though I’ve heard he was a bit eccentric. He sacrificed anything for his research. There’s even a story that he accidentally figured out how to use Aetheria for Prayer Pacts while studying Demon Pacts. Anyway, he was a genius.”
Aria, chewing on her snack, observed Ewen as he went on enthusiastically. Now that she really looked at him, Ewen wasn’t bad-looking. She noticed the maid had blushed while serving their food. People of the Militant Nation were passionate, fiery types, so a guy like Ewen probably stood out. His somewhat delicate demeanor wasn’t quite to her taste, however. She preferred someone brave, strong, and compassionate. Someone like Cecily.
“Oh, now that I think about it.” Ewen paused, remembering something. “I heard one of our guests carry an Infernal Blade.”
“Hmm?” Aria raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s Cecily Campbell. She’s really impressive. I’m proud to have her as my partner.”
“Partner?”
“Yeah, my comrade in arms.”
Ewen looked confused. He wasn’t aware that some Infernal Blades could transform into humans.
“I’ll introduce you later. But don’t fall for her, okay? I won’t allow it. Cecily already has someone lined up.”
“I don’t think I’ll meet her,” Ewen replied. “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.”
“That’s a bit dramatic. Then again, Cecily is very cool, so I get it.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Ewen’s voice choked, and he grimaced. “What do you think of Infernal Blades?”
“Huh?” Aria tilted her head, unsure what he meant.
“I hate them,” Ewen said, his voice suddenly low.
A chill ran through Aria, as if something cold had gripped her heart.
“Forgive me for bringing up something personal, but years ago, my father was caught in the power struggle during the transition of the Supreme Seat. He lost his life, and the direct cause of his death was an Infernal Blade owned by the Militant Nation at the time.”
Aria swallowed hard. The dried food in her mouth suddenly tasted like nothing. She put it down on the plate.
“Th-That sounds like the fault of the person using the sword.”
“I know. The officer who killed my father has already been dealt with. But the fact remains, an Infernal Blade erased my father from existence. No bones, nothing. A scholar, who had nothing to do with the struggle, was killed, just like that.”
Ewen’s soft eyes darkened. His hatred ran deep. They had just met, and he was already ranting like he’d completely lost control.
“After the strife, Lady Zenobia took over as Supreme Seat, and she locked away the Infernal Blades. She then made me her personal advisor, to remind herself of the mistakes made in letting that power struggle happen, the guilt of dragging an esteemed scholar into it, and the negligence of the Lanchester family. She even told me that if I wanted, I could strike her, though it wouldn’t be an easy death. But honestly? I don’t know what to do. There was a time I hated Lady Zenobia, but now… I don’t even know if I was right to. Right now, I’m just following my father’s research blindly. But one thing I know for sure.” Ewen’s gaze turned distant. “I will despise Infernal Blades until my dying breath.”
Aria was frozen in her seat. Her throat felt dry. The Militant Nation’s Infernal Blades probably couldn’t transform. So, this young man didn’t know. He didn’t know that the woman in front of him was an Infernal Blade. He didn’t know that he was condemning her without even realizing it.
“I’m sorry about your father,” Aria said tightly. “But… still, there’s no need to talk so harshly about Cecily’s… well, about the Infernal Blade. You can’t just despise Infernal Blades because of what they are.”
“No,” Ewen said firmly. “Infernal Blades are too dangerous for humans. They’re cursed and bring only chaos. A weapon meant to kill, to threaten life, shouldn’t exist in this world.”
Infernal Blades were the manifestation of hatred towards the being that created Demon Pacts, Valbanill. Their power drove people to madness, forcing them to fight and kill. Just like what happened when Aria was born.
Indeed, Infernal Blades were accursed weapons.
Ewen’s face twisted. “They’re disgusting.”
Abhorrent and steeped in blood, their origins could never be changed.
“Do you really believe Infernal Blades are irredeemable?” Aria asked.
“Yes. They should be destroyed. They’re the sword of demons.”
He might be right. Infernal Blades were disgusting.
But…
“I don’t think so,” Aria said. “Infernal Blades can save people, depending on how it’s used.”
Cecily had told her that she would be a sword that protects people. And she chose to believe those words. She believed in them, and she would make it happen.
“I understand your anger,” Aria went on, “but you shouldn’t hate them blindly. Infernal Blades can help people too. Don’t dismiss them as just cursed weapons. Cecily has saved many with one. She’s fought with it.”
“There’s no logic to it,” Ewen replied tiredly. He seemed to regret revealing his inner turmoil to Aria, someone he had just met. “I know the person using an Infernal Blade is to blame. I get that. I’m a scholar. I know countless examples in history where ordinary tools were used in conflicts. But still… I can’t help thinking. If Infernal Blades didn’t exist, my father wouldn’t have died. I can’t stop thinking that.”
Aria studied him carefully. Ewen quickly looked away, avoiding her stare.
“Do you really hate Infernal Blades that much?”
“I do.”
Aria sighed and rose from her seat. “I can’t stand what I am either.” She moved to an open space, then turned to face Ewen. “But I still have to take pride in who I am. Otherwise, I’d be betraying Cecily, who believes in me. I want to fight alongside her with my head held high.”
Ewen stayed seated, his brow furrowing as he tried to process her words.
“You’re a narrow-minded person, Ewen. So, I’ll show you what I really am and turn your worldview upside down.” She flashed a feeble smile. “Oh, by the way, I haven’t actually introduced myself. My name is Aria. The Infernal Blade Aria.”
Ewen’s eyes grew wide.
Aria recited the incantation. “Unshackle from slumber. Seize the truth. The wind, in my hand. Slay God.”
A whirlwind rose. A dull, silver wind surged from the floor and swirled around Aria. As the wind enveloped her, her body dissolved, intertwining with the gusts, before slowly solidifying into a single blade.
The wind exploded outward, revealing a rapier embedded in the carpet, glinting faintly in the flickering light of the hearth. The force of the wind sent a stack of papers tumbling off a nearby bookshelf.
The rapier lay still, buried in the floor.
After several seconds, the winds enveloped her once more, and Aria reverted to her human form.
“…”
As the wind faded, a few loose strands of hair fell across her forehead and cheeks. Aria slowly opened her eyes, scanning the room.
“Wuss.”
The young man was gone. The door, left ajar, creaked as it swayed, letting in the cold air from the hallway.
Aria swallowed the wave of emotion rising inside her, forcing it down. Her first thought was that she would never tell Cecily about this. This was a trial she had to face alone.
“I have to get stronger.”
Stronger. Stronger. Stronger. In mind, in blade, in everything.
She firmly swore to become much stronger so that no matter how much she was hurt, she wouldn’t falter.
Aria refused to let herself cry. She would not shed a tear. Ever.
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