A figure emerged from the eastern forest with an unsteady gait. It was difficult for the two gatekeepers to discern the stranger’s features, but they immediately put up their guard once they realized the reason why—the silhouette was completely drenched in blood.
The keepers raised their polearms, unsettled by the half-beastkin’s odd, slinking—almost predatorial—gait. There was tension in the air as the stranger drew closer, every passing step causing it to build greater and greater until, finally, one of the gatekeeper’s eyes widened in shock.
“You… You're that new adventurer from yesterday.” He said, recognition dawning on his face. “Are you alright?!”
The guard had tried to stop Ami from dragging the obviously underequipped Fenris into the eastern forest, but was told by his supervisor to just let them through.
“... Nn, I’m… fine…” Fenris replied, his words seperated by gasps of air.
The return trip was harder for Fenris since he was alone, but he was able to get back safely thanks to the levels he had gained; his heavy breathing and lethargic movements were simply because he had exhausted his stamina running all the way back to town. However—with his equipment in tatters and being drenched in blood—the keepers were convinced that Fenris was on death’s door.
“You can here at the station while we call a healer over,” the keeper suggested. “It should only take a few minutes.”
“... Thanks, but… I need to… go back out soon…”
Fenris was already delayed because of the fight he’d gotten into on his way back and didn't want to keep his friends waiting for much longer. Not stopping to explain further, Fenris marched onward, his breath still heavy from his exertions.
“... That poor kid…” The keeper sadly shook his head at the half-beastkin’s retreating figure.
“You know what's going on with that guy?” his colleague asked, concerned by Fenris’s dead eyes.
Of course, the two guards had no way of knowing that Fenris normally looked like that; as far as they could tell, those were the eyes of a broken person.
“Right, you weren't on gate duty yesterday…” The gatekeeper mumbled to himself as he thought about where to start. “Along with those Travelers, there was a group of demons that showed up yesterday.”
“Demons? From those old stories?” Their partner scoffed, convinced that the older guard was just pulling their leg.
“A death knight almost half the size of these gates… A revenant so thick with grudge that it was as black as pitch…” The gatekeeper shuddered as he recalled those terrible miens. “And that third one—Calamity, they called her—she must have been a noble of some sort, what with how she carried herself and how the others followed her.”
“... You're serious,” the other guard realized.
“Dead serious. They dragged that kid out yesterday and—well, you saw what happened to him.”
Suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation, the guard stiffened.
“A demon princess…” They murmured, a chill running down their back.
Of course, Calamity was not actually a noble, much less a princess; however, with no one there to correct the misunderstanding, the two gatekeepers’ imaginations ran wild.
“Judging from his gear, they must’ve grabbed him fresh off the streets just to toy with him—'It's more interesting if he struggles,’ is what that demon said.”
“Good gods…”
… And so—unbeknownst to the ‘demon princess’ herself—Calamity’s infamy among Firrstad's residents grew.
A figure emerged from the eastern forest with an unsteady gait. It was difficult for the two gatekeepers to discern the stranger’s features, but they immediately put up their guard once they realized the reason why—the silhouette was completely drenched in blood.
The keepers raised their polearms, unsettled by the half-beastkin’s odd, slinking—almost predatorial—gait. There was tension in the air as the stranger drew closer, every passing step causing it to build greater and greater until, finally, one of the gatekeeper’s eyes widened in shock.
“You… You're that new adventurer from yesterday.” He said, recognition dawning on his face. “Are you alright?!”
The guard had tried to stop Ami from dragging the obviously underequipped Fenris into the eastern forest, but was told by his supervisor to just let them through.
“... Nn, I’m… fine…” Fenris replied, his words seperated by gasps of air.
The return trip was harder for Fenris since he was alone, but he was able to get back safely thanks to the levels he had gained; his heavy breathing and lethargic movements were simply because he had exhausted his stamina running all the way back to town. However—with his equipment in tatters and being drenched in blood—the keepers were convinced that Fenris was on death’s door.
“You can here at the station while we call a healer over,” the keeper suggested. “It should only take a few minutes.”
“... Thanks, but… I need to… go back out soon…”
Fenris was already delayed because of the fight he’d gotten into on his way back and didn't want to keep his friends waiting for much longer. Not stopping to explain further, Fenris marched onward, his breath still heavy from his exertions.
“... That poor kid…” The keeper sadly shook his head at the half-beastkin’s retreating figure.
“You know what's going on with that guy?” his colleague asked, concerned by Fenris’s dead eyes.
Of course, the two guards had no way of knowing that Fenris normally looked like that; as far as they could tell, those were the eyes of a broken person.
“Right, you weren't on gate duty yesterday…” The gatekeeper mumbled to himself as he thought about where to start. “Along with those Travelers, there was a group of demons that showed up yesterday.”
“Demons? From those old stories?” Their partner scoffed, convinced that the older guard was just pulling their leg.
“A death knight almost half the size of these gates… A revenant so thick with grudge that it was as black as pitch…” The gatekeeper shuddered as he recalled those terrible miens. “And that third one—Calamity, they called her—she must have been a noble of some sort, what with how she carried herself and how the others followed her.”
“... You're serious,” the other guard realized.
“Dead serious. They dragged that kid out yesterday and—well, you saw what happened to him.”
Suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation, the guard stiffened.
“A demon princess…” They murmured, a chill running down their back.
Of course, Calamity was not actually a noble, much less a princess; however, with no one there to correct the misunderstanding, the two gatekeepers’ imaginations ran wild.
“Judging from his gear, they must’ve grabbed him fresh off the streets just to toy with him—'It's more interesting if he struggles,’ is what that demon said.”
“Good gods…”
… And so—unbeknownst to the ‘demon princess’ herself—Calamity’s infamy among Firrstad's residents grew.
