The horse cab slowed as the road narrowed, packed earth giving way to weathered planks reinforced with iron bands. A wooden palisade came into view—low, practical, more symbolic than defensive—its posts etched with simple warding marks worn smooth by time.
Greythorn Village.
The driver reined the horses in near a modest square dominated by an old oak whose roots broke through the soil like grasping fingers. A few villagers paused in their work to look up—curious, wary, but not alarmed.
Sora stepped down first, smoothing her dress as her boots touched the ground. Null followed, the cab door thudding shut behind them.
The air here felt… different.
Quieter.
Not peaceful—restrained.
As if the land itself was holding its breath.
A beastman approached from the square, flanked by two younger villagers. He was broad-shouldered, his hair streaked with gray, face lined by sun and responsibility rather than age alone. A wooden charm carved with forest sigils hung at his neck.
He stopped a respectful distance away and inclined his head.
"Esteemed Cleric," he said, voice steady but edged with relief. "We are honored you answered our request."
Sora returned the gesture, placing a hand lightly over her chest. "Village Chief. I am Sora. This is Null, an associate assigned to the mission."
Null nodded once.
The chief's gaze flicked briefly to Null—assessing, measuring—then back to Sora.
"Please," he said, gesturing toward a longhouse near the oak. "We can speak inside. What we've witnessed… it's better explained without an audience."
Inside, the longhouse smelled of dried herbs and old wood. A central hearth glowed faintly, though no fire burned. Wards—simple but carefully maintained—lined the beams.
The chief motioned for them to sit.
"My name is Eldrin," he began, lowering himself opposite them. "I've led Greythorn for twenty years. We know our forest. Every sound, every season."
His jaw tightened.
"That's why this… troubles us."
Sora folded her hands atop her knees. "Start from the beginning."
"It began a little over two weeks ago," he said, voice rough. "At first, it was small things. The forest grew… wrong. Leaves blackened overnight. Game vanished. And the mana—those with sensitivity said it felt thick. Rotten."
Null's gaze sharpened slightly at that.
"We thought it was a passing disturbance," the chief continued. "So we did what we always do. We hired adventurers."
His hands clenched against his knees.
"A competent party. Six of them. Experienced. They had dealt with monsters, bandits—worse, even."
Sora's expression softened, already anticipating what came next.
"They entered the forest at dawn," the chief said. "By midday, they encountered it."
He swallowed.
"A demon beast."
The words seemed to weigh the room down.
"Not some feral creature," he went on. "It moved with intent. Wherever it passed, the forest warped—trees twisted in on themselves, roots bled black sap, and the ground cracked with demonic energy."
He lifted his gaze, meeting Sora's eyes.
"The adventurers fought it."
Null spoke quietly. "And?"
The chief's jaw tightened.
"They didn't stand a chance."
Silence followed.
He forced himself to continue.
"They said its presence alone crushed their mana flow. Spells misfired. Blades dulled mid-swing. One moment they were advancing—"
His voice broke.
"The next… they were being torn apart."
Sora's fingers curled slowly in her lap.
"Three died," the chief said. "Two on the spot. One later, dragged back by his comrades."
His shoulders sagged, as though the admission physically drained him.
"The remaining three fled. Barely. Severe injuries—burns that won't heal properly, bones twisted by demonic corruption."
His breath hitched.
"…My son was among them."
Sora closed her eyes for a brief moment.
The chief lowered his head.
"He was a frontliner. Strong. Stubborn," he said with a hollow smile. "The beast struck him with a wave of corrupted mana. His leg… his mana channels…" He shook his head. "The healer says he may never fight again."
A long, painful pause filled the room.
Null felt something tighten in his chest.
"After that," the chief said, lifting his head again, resolve cutting through his grief, "we knew better than to send anyone else. The forest is no longer something we can handle."
He bowed deeply again, this time slower, heavier.
Sora did not rush to respond.
She remained still, hands folded, eyes lowered—not in detachment, but in thought. The weight of the chief's words settled into her, threading themselves through training, doctrine, and lived experience.
A demon beast.
Here.
In a human settlement's forest.
That alone was unsettling.
"A demon beast does not manifest without cause," she said softly.
Her voice carried the calm certainty of someone who had studied such things not from rumor, but from grim necessity.
Null leaned forward slightly, attentive. The village chief straightened, bracing himself.
"There are three primary paths by which such a creature can exist," Sora continued. "Each… worse than the last."
"The first is corruption by accumulation."
She turned her eyes toward the shuttered window.
"A normal mana beast—native to this land—can succumb if exposed to sustained negativity. Fear. Death. Lingering malice. If such pressure overwhelms its core, the mana in its body collapses inward and inverts."
Her brows drew together.
"This creates a fallen beast. Dangerous, unstable, driven by instinct alone. But its influence is limited. It consumes—it does not cultivate corruption."
The chief nodded slowly. "That… that is what we hoped."
Sora did not mirror his hope.
She raised her second finger.
"The second possibility is environmental inversion," she said. "If dark mana saturates the land itself, the forest begins to degrade. Trees twist. Soil rots. The habitat begins to breed demonic traits."
Null quipped. ""That would imply a sustained source."
"Yes," Sora replied. "And that is why this scenario is deeply troubling."
Her gaze sharpened.
"True mana does not become dark mana naturally. Not in such density. For an entire forest to be affected, someone must force the conversion."
"—it would require a demonic ritual. One that forcibly inverts ambient mana."
The chief's breath caught.
"The final possibility," she said, "is direct influence."
Null felt the air change.
"A high-ranking demon," Sora continued. "One that does not need to reveal itself to act. Their mere presence distorts mana flow. It attracts corruption, turns beasts into vessels, and reshapes territory into demonic grounds."
"Either a greater demon" she added, "or an arch demon".
The words lingered, heavy and unkind.
Greater demon.
Arch demon.
The distinction was not academic.
It was the line between manageable and catastrophic.
Sora let the silence stretch—not out of hesitation, but to allow the weight of reality to settle properly.
Then she spoke.
"If it is a greater demon," she said evenly, "I can handle it."
The statement was not prideful. Not boastful.
It was a fact.
Null glanced at her—not surprised, but attentive. The village chief's eyes widened just slightly, hope and fear colliding behind them.
"But if it is an arch demon…"
She did not finish the sentence immediately.
The air in the longhouse felt heavier now, as though the wards themselves were listening.
"…Then it is beyond my capability," she said quietly.
The chief swallowed hard.
Silence followed—taut, fragile.
Null broke it gently.
"So for now," he said, "we don't assume the worst."
Sora nodded. "Correct."
She rose from her seat, posture straightening—not in ceremony, but in readiness.
"For now, we investigate," she said. "Quietly. Precisely. We identify the source of corruption, assess the density of dark mana, and determine whether the demon beast was a cause… or a symptom."
He inclined his head. "Understood."
She turned back to the chief.
"We will enter the forest at first light"
The chief stood abruptly, bowing deeply.
"You have my deepest gratitude," he said.
Sora paused, then added more softly, "As for your son and the survivors—have them brought to me after this meeting. I can prevent further corruption and heal them."
The man's breath shuddered.
"…Thank you," he whispered.