Light continued to talk and try to understand Lara's perspective, as someone born without powers found it hard to comprehend why falling was not much common.After some conversation, he realized the simple reason: those who ascended were powerful and noble, all beloved by mana. Mana, in turn, despised weakness and hated when the weak tried to dominate it.
It is impossible to determine someone's path unless they are at least an apostle, but of course, if an ordinary person like Lara began to master magic, the choice she had made would become clear.
Moreover, these fallen ones often killed those beloved and blessed by mana; it was easier to obtain mana from corpses than from the atmosphere. This also created a certain stigma and fear even among those who were not mages—after all, from their perspective, the fallen were serial killers.
Indeed, for most people, Lara admitting that she wished to fall was somewhat frightening. To them, she was essentially declaring that she was willing to kill the saints of mana.
Another difficulty Lara encountered was identifying mana. Even though she knew what it was and could feel it, she couldn't discern it. To her, mana had always been around her, like air and everything it comprises. It would be like asking someone to consciously say how much of the air around them was oxygen, carbon, and nitrogen. Now, she would have to learn to separate one from the other—a process that was easy for Light, who had never felt it before.
In summary, teaching her would be somewhat difficult, and it would have to start from a point that had been unnecessary for Light. Besides, she would have to hide any trace of magical power; after all, to others now, she was a terrorist intending to kill their nobles, kings and saints.
It was getting dark, and Light was already envisioning the first steps to help his lady. Every time he thought about it, he couldn't help but smile a little; it had been many centuries since he had gone out with someone. The status might call her needy, but Light wasn't much different.
Captain Silvyr Keanan was back. Despite not needing it, he was always escorted by his men. Several men took the lead and approached him, taking the opportunity to inform him of their activities, offering a general report on the camp's situation.
As soon as he finished receiving the initial reports, he turned and called out to Light, who was walking alone nearby.
"I have informed the other captains as well as the commander of your presence. I'd like to remind you that your situation is delicate, and not everyone agrees with having the envoy of death among us."
'Of course, that's obvious. Angels and their envoys always appear before catastrophes, often caused by them.'
"I tried to calm them down by reminding them that in most…"
'Yes, most. Not all…'
"...of the times, the problem comes from outside, and the envoy only serves as a warning for us to act before it's too late." Light nodded at him, trying to reassure him. By now, he already understood much of the implications of being an angel's servant.
"In any case..." the man cleared his throat. "I would like you to stay on the outer part of the camp tonight. Although you are only an initiate, you are a good warrior, as was evident in your fight."
"No problem" Light replied. The captain quickly signaled one of his men to be responsible for monitoring and guiding Light in his activities. Although stronger than Light as a Disciple, his supervisor did not have much aura.
Light was then guided outside the camp and began patrolling about 500 meters from it. He could see several lanterns from other people, both ahead and behind. Some were deeper in the woods, while others were closer to the camp, still able to converse with the common servants.
The purpose of having several guards patrolling at a distance from the camp was simple but somewhat Machiavellian. Essentially, it created several layers of guards monitoring for anomalies. If a layer ahead was attacked by simple monsters, the one behind would quickly alert the others.
Why were so many layers necessary? Well, not all monsters were simple. Some men were being lured away, wandering alone in the darkness, only to disappear. Some enemies could control minds, and if they got close, they could wipe out the entire guard instantly.
By having layers, at least one would remain unaffected and could attempt to rescue the others... Of course, what actually happened was that the middle layers sometimes survived, while those at the front died. Only the initial layers were safe... the first two, in this case...
Except for Light, everyone was accompanied by three other men. There were seven layers, and he was in the fifth. All the guards were Disciples, forged through hard and heavy training. Although they hadn't experienced great battles, they were all capable warriors.
Light wandered calmly with the lamplight. The environment was calm and peaceful; from time to time, he turned around to check if any men had disappeared or were under attack.
The wind was coming from the camp, heading towards the woods, rustling the leaves. Only the sound of his own footsteps could be heard. Not far away, there was a river with water flowing between the rocks, fish occasionally jumping out of the water, aiming at some fireflies passing by.
Light had seen one of these a long time ago when he was still a child. One of them was quite close to him, flying near his head, then slowly descending and landing on a nearby rock.
Fascinated by the glowing insect, hypnotized, Light extended his hand to catch it. At that moment, with the beautiful insect in his hand, lost in his own thoughts, a cold embrace came from behind. It was comforting. With silver hair and golden eyes, a head rested on his shoulder, and a sweet, melodious voice spoke.
"If I were you, I would turn around…"
Immediately, like a ghost, the woman disappeared. Light recognized her, and snapping out of his stupor, he followed her advice. He abruptly turned around. In front of him was a slender owl dressed in a tattered cloak fluttering in the wind, taller than a man, its beak and feathers stained with red blood, its eyes black as an abyss.
***
Name: André
Title: Envoy of Death, Silent Assassin
Status: Hunting
Rank: Disciple
Race: Demon (Lesser)
Aura: 530
Strength: 13
Agility: 25
Endurance: 12
Skills: Mana Manipulation, Nether Manipulation, Concealment...
Characteristics: Patient, Hunter, Proud...
Observation: Don't be fooled by his appearance; real demons rarely have red skin and horns. This is André, a lesser demon who brings death wherever he goes.
***
The smell of iron intensely invaded his nostrils, his heart freezing as he realized that the monster was about to kill him.
The owl stood in front of him, merely tilting its head downward, analyzing Light, who quickly drew his weapon and aimed it at the creature. André leaped back, his wings spreading from under the cloak, flying without making a sound.
Light quickly looked around; all the other layers had been breached. Eight men had died without making a sound, their bodies scattered on the ground with various parts bitten, suggesting that the creature had fed on them.
Light's shout echoed through the place, alerting the others.