The two made their way to a nearby inn.
The inn smelled of dust and old wood. Its sign creaked in the wind, paint faded, but it was the closest shelter they could find.
Selene crossed her arms, glaring as the two of them stepped through the door. "I have no belongings," she said flatly. "Not even a coin. Don't expect me to pay for anything."
Indra exhaled softly through his nose. Of course you don't. Archeron's daughter, dropped into the mortal realm with nothing but her temper. He gave her a tired look, then turned his attention to the man behind the counter.
The bartender was heavyset, balding, his eyes sharp with suspicion. Before the man could speak, Indra's tone slipped into silk. "We only need one room. Surely a place like this can spare one, just for tonight?"
The bartender opened his mouth to refuse. But Indra leaned forward, letting his blue eyes catch the man's gaze, letting his words carry a subtle pressure. "You'll give us a room. No coin. One night. No questions."
The bartender blinked, wavered, then slowly nodded. "Top floor. End of the hall."
Selene shot him a sideways glance as they climbed the stairs. "You manipulated him."
Indra shrugged. "Better than wasting money I don't have."
Inside the room, Selene immediately pointed to the bed. "The bed is mine. You're on the floor."
Indra looked at the wooden boards, then at her. For a moment he considered refusing—but then he sighed, lowering himself to the hard surface without complaint. "As you wish."
Selene turned her back to him, lying stiffly in bed, her golden eyes half-open as if expecting an attack. But eventually, her breathing slowed, and she drifted into sleep.
Morning came with the distant noise of wagons on the road. Indra rose quietly, stretching the stiffness from his limbs. Selene still slept, curled away from him. He slipped out without a word, stepping into the crisp morning air of Fasl.
The area was modest—stone streets, timber houses, merchants calling out from stalls. But Indra's mind was far away.
He turned a corner, hands in his pockets.
A sound drew his attention—shouting. He glanced into an alley where three rough men cornered a group of well-dressed girls, their jewelry gleaming like bait. The thugs yanked at the girls' satchels, laughter echoing.
Indra's eyes narrowed. He stepped in without a word. By the time the girls noticed him, the thugs were already dead—strangled by invisible strings, throats crushed. The girls gasped in horror as Indra plucked the purses from their trembling hands, pocketing their wealth as casually as one might pick flowers.
They fled screaming. Indra crouched by the corpses, his body shimmering faintly before melting into a liquid sheen. The bodies dissolved into him, bones and blood vanishing as if they never existed. When he straightened, there was no trace left behind.
Minutes later, he stood at a merchant's stall, unloading rings, trinkets, and silks. The merchant weighed the goods, suspicious but eager. "For this? I suppose ten silver and fifty bronze shall suffice."
Indra smiled faintly. "Deal."
By the time he returned to the inn, Selene was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with her white hair tangled from sleep. She scowled at him immediately. "Where did you go?"
Indra held up a small pouch, coins clinking. "I was busy."
Her golden eyes widened at the glint of silver. "Give me some."
"No."
Her face twisted in outrage. "What do you mean, no?"
"We need this," Indra said calmly, his voice cutting through her anger. "If we want to buy something important, we can't waste it."
She crossed her arms. "Important? Like what?"
Indra grinned. "A relic."
The dark market was buried beneath the town—an underground warren of narrow halls, torchlight, and whispered deals. The air was thick with incense and sweat, filled with the clink of coins and the gleam of forbidden goods.
Selene wrinkled her nose as they wove between stalls selling cursed daggers, bottled monsters, and blood-soaked charms. "Disgusting."
Indra ignored her. His eyes were on the prize. And there it was—displayed on a wooden rack, cloaked in faded cloth. A scythe, its blade dull and chipped, its handle cracked with age. The seller, a hunched man with milky eyes, hissed the words like they were poison.
"You want this kid? It's supposedly a relic of a Demon. I'll give it to you for fifty silver."
Indra's hand moved before Selene could argue. The coins clinked against the table, and the scythe was his.
Back at the inn, Indra dropped the pouch of fifty bronze coins—worth one silver—on the counter. "Another night."
The bartender only nodded, not saying a word.
In their room, Selene glared at the scythe as Indra set it against the wall. "That thing? That's what you wasted everything on? It looks like firewood."
Indra's lips curved. "This 'crappy relic' is the Demonic General's Scythe."
Her eyes widened. "You're joking."
"Im not, It needs your Divine Essence to awaken though." Indra said simply.
Selene stared at him. "And why would I ever do that for you?"
Indra's smile sharpened. "Because the faster I gather the weapons, the faster you're free of me."
Silence hung between them. Then Selene's shoulders slumped. "…Fine."
Indra extended his hand, threads of invisible string wrapping the scythe. As a Puppeteer, he forced it to bend to his will, its dull body trembling under his control. Selene sighed, then raised her hand. A spark of royal purple trickled from her palm, seeping into the scythe.
The relic screamed. Dark Light burst across its surface as cracks split, shedding ancient skin to reveal polished black steel beneath, the blade curved like a crescent moon. Its demonic aura flooded the room, only to vanish as Indra pressed it into his body, the slime swallowing it whole until nothing remained.
Indra exhaled slowly, satisfaction flickering across his face. One down.
That night, he leaned against the wall while Selene adjusted her dress. "I heard about a slave auction nearby," he said.
Her head snapped toward him. "A slave auction?"
"We could save them," Indra continued smoothly, "and relieve the buyers of their wealth."
Selene hesitated—but he knew her too well. Her lips pressed tight, then she nodded. "…Fine. Let's do it."
The auction house loomed at the edge of town, guarded by armored men. Indra studied them, frowning. "I don't have ranged abilities, I'm unable to get rid of them. Do you mind helping?"
Selene sighed, exasperated, then snapped her fingers. Teal flames erupted across the guards' bodies. In an instant, they were ash.
Indra chuckled. "Beautifully done."
He leapt onto the roof, light as a shadow. Selene followed, her dress billowing. She glanced at him, her expression sharp. "So, how do we do this?"
Indra's grin spread. His blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight.
"We kill them all."