Cecilus walked beside the white devil, quietly surveying the streets around him. The two of them had once again entered a major city, Ashkara, the very place where Cecilus had first encountered Darrin.
"Won't take much longer before I gather the remaining souls I need," Cecilus said, glancing ahead through the bustling roadways. "Where do we go afterward?"
"I shall explain once the souls are collected," the devil replied without hesitation.
Cecilus folded his arms as they walked.
"Also... using my summons has become easier over time. When I first obtained Xena, whenever she was injured it felt unbearable. Now the sensation barely reaches me."
"That is merely the result of the strength you've accumulated," the devil explained. "Each soul you claim reinforces your own. Souls belonging to individuals with great magical aptitude strengthen yours far more than ordinary ones... yet even weak lives, when gathered in vast numbers as you have done, will eventually amount to the same effect."
"So... every time I gain another soul, the pain dulls a little more."
"Yes," the devil replied dryly. "That is precisely what I just said."
"Sure, buddy..."
The devil continued floating forward as if the sarcasm had never been spoken.
"We are nearing the final stretch. I have several locations in mind where secluded villages may be found."
"Huh? Where?"
"Many possibilities exist," the devil said thoughtfully. "There is a marshland rarely traveled by outsiders. It is rather peculiar, its waters spill into the desert sands, creating vast pockets of quicksand. There is also a region famed for its scattered oases. We could return to the eastern coast... or even journey westward until the desert gives way to the far side of the continent."
Cecilus barely needed to think.
"Let's go back to the coast. The weather was pleasant there... at least until that frost mage decided to toy with us."
The devil chuckled softly.
"Hah... toy with us. That is certainly one way to describe it."
Cecilus frowned.
"But how do you even know where all these villages are? Do you carry some kind of map?"
"No."
The devil's tone was calm.
"There are individuals who devote their lives to discovering such things like explorers, scholars, and researchers. I was not one myself, yet I once knew someone who was. His works have grown rather famous over the years. Many historical records cite his observations as their source. I simply remember a number of details from the time I spent with him."
"What's his name?"
"Ramon."
Cecilus tilted his head.
"No surname?"
"None recorded," the devil answered. "I never understood why he chose not to include it."
The devil drifted slightly higher as they walked.
"Perhaps we might find some of his writings in the shops along the way. In his lifetime, Ramon estimated that only ten percent of the villages on the demonic continent had been discovered."
"Only ten percent?"
"Yes. And from what I have seen, the population has grown since then... though the conditions of this land have not."
"How so?"
"There is no ruler capable of uniting the continent," the devil said. "It is nearly lawless. The land itself is barren and poor, so even foreign nations see little value in conquering it."
The devil's voice lowered slightly.
"No one wishes to explore such a place. A mage like the one who froze the sea could appear at any moment and erase you from existence. Likewise, someone like you might wander through and harvest souls without warning."
Cecilus scratched his head.
"Yeah... it doesn't exactly feel like the best place to live. Hopefully we can finish this quickly and leave."
He paused mid-step.
"...Wait."
The realization struck him like lightning.
"Why have I been traveling everywhere on horseback?"
The devil glanced sideways.
"How else would you travel?"
Cecilus stared at him in disbelief.
"I can fly, for God's sake! Wasn't the whole reason for getting the crow so I could fly!?"
"...Yes. That was indeed the purpose."
"Then why didn't you remind me?"
"Why did you forget?" the devil replied lazily. "I am not the one gathering souls. The speed at which you accomplish the task matters little to me."
This devil... Cecilus thought irritably.
He only offers useful information whenever he feels like it! Sure, forgetting was partially my fault... but this is still ridiculous.
Does he have some strange restriction on what he's allowed to say? Or is it because of the deal he made with my past life?
Either way, this confirms it. He's not a reliable source.
"Well then," Cecilus said aloud, throwing his hands up. "Let's leave immediately. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can say goodbye to this miserable continent."
"I believe I will remain here a little while longer," the devil said calmly, "even after you gather the remaining souls."
Cecilus blinked.
"What?"
"Our little agreement, the one made between you and me in the past, expires once you complete the task."
Really? Cecilus thought.
So that's it? I gather the souls... and then the devil disappears from my life?
The two reached the massive gates of the city.
The white devil floated in front of Cecilus, slowly opening its mouth.
"Well then," it said, its voice curling into something faintly amused, "let us see these flying skills of yours."
Its face drifted upward, partially obscuring Cecilus's view as the corners of its mouth twisted into a thin, frown.
***
Far to the south, beside a quiet river, a small boy lowered a wooden pail into the water.
He crouched low, gripping the handle with both hands before struggling upright. The bucket sloshed heavily as he shuffled along a narrow dirt path lined with mud-brick huts.
Eventually he reached his home.
With both hands occupied, he leaned forward and knocked on the door using his forehead.
"You're back already?"
A woman's voice sounded from inside. A moment later the latch clicked open and the door creaked wide.
"I got the water, sis."
The boy dropped both buckets onto the small entry mat.
"What? No! Mirok!" the woman exclaimed. "Don't leave them there! Bring them inside!"
"Nah," he said, already backing away. "You deal with them. I've gotta meet my friends at the river."
"What? We live right next to it! Waiting one minute isn't going to kill—"
But Mirok had already broken into a jog down the path.
His sister sighed and stared down at the buckets.
"Well... I suppose I'd better start."
She bent down to lift them.
By then Mirok had already disappeared from sight.
Instead of returning to the river, however, he veered left toward a line of sandy hills.
The village stood on the edge of the desert. Most homes were built from hardened mud brick, their walls cracked by wind and sun. The nearby river was the only reason the settlement survived at all.
Mirok climbed one of the sandy slopes.
When he reached the top, he looked down into a quiet plateau below.
Hundreds of stones dotted the sand.
Each one bore faded carvings along its surface.
Graves.
Mirok hurried down the slope, stumbling slightly in the loose sand until he reached two stones set close together. Each were about half his height.
He knelt.
Clasping his hands together, he bowed his head.
"Mother... Father..."
He paused.
"I don't know if you can hear me. Tirra says there isn't an afterlife... that when people die, they just disappear."
He shook his head quickly.
"But I don't think that's true. I think you're both still listening to me... somewhere."
He took a breath.
"Tirra's been a little strict lately. I've been helping a lot, but she still wants me to do more chores."
He scratched the back of his head.
"It's okay though. I won't get mad... I know it's hard for her too."
A small smile formed.
"I made some friends recently too! The boys invited me to play by the river. So you don't have to worry about me anymore."
He looked back at the direction of his house in the distance.
"Our home feels a little too big now... just me and Tirra. If she gets married someday, she might even move out."
He stood up and dusted sand from his knees.
"Anyway... I'm going to meet my friends. I'll talk to you again later."
He waved awkwardly.
"See you."
Back at the house, Tirra was busy cleaning.
She wiped sweat from her brow and glanced toward a stack of folded clothing beside a wooden crate.
"I wonder if these would sell for anything..."
She lifted one of the garments and examined the worn fabric.
A few villagers are traveling to the main city soon, she thought. I could go with them for safety...
But that would mean leaving Mirok alone.
She remembered the earlier exchange with her brother and smiled faintly.
He probably can't handle something so simple…
Then her expression hardened.
But trusting him a little is a sacrifice I have to make.
We're running low on money… and I'd sooner die than marry myself off just to survive.
I have to keep studying. I'll find a proper way to make a living someday.
Later that evening, Mirok returned home.
"Welcome back," Tirra said warmly.
Dinner was already prepared. A pot of soup simmered on the table, filled with thin slices of a strange blue radish.
The Ascended Continent housed many different types of crops throughout its fertile lands; on the other hand, the demonic continent was mostly composed of a large desert, resulting in the amount of crops that could sustain life being very few. This blue radish was seen growing in even the most harsh soils and sand across the entire continent.
"Hi, sis."
Mirok sat down and grabbed a small wooden spoon, eager to start eating.
"Mirok... wait a moment. I have something important to tell you before you begin eating."
He looked up suspiciously.
Did she get engaged?
"What is it?"
"I'm planning to travel soon," Tirra said. "I want to sell Mother's old clothes. They don't fit me, and I doubt you'd want to wear them."
Mother's clothes?
We must be short on money...
"So what does that mean?" Mirok asked. "You're bringing me with you?"
"No. I thought you could stay here and take care of the house."
Mirok blinked.
She trusts me enough to leave me alone?
"What? But I never do chores!" he protested. "Why would you trust me with the house?"
Tirra laughed softly.
"So even you don't trust yourself? Hah... unfortunately I don't have much of a choice. Traveling with the villagers will already cost money. Bringing you would only make things worse."
Mirok sighed.
Yeah... that makes sense.
"They're leaving in about a week," she continued. "I just want to know if you'll be alright on your own."
"Y-Yeah... I'll be fine."
"That didn't sound very convincing."
Mirok remembered the conversation at the graves.
I can do this... right? It's only for a short while.
"Wait!" he blurted suddenly. "Then who's going to cook for me?"
Tirra leaned forward and pinched his cheeks.
"You are!"
"For the next week, I'll teach you everything you need to know."
Mirok blinked slowly.
I'm going to cook...?
A quiet sense of dread began to bloom in his chest.