Remorseful Reflections

Noah rummaged through Logan's belongings beside the campfire, finding the witch's salve and bandages.

First, a swig of liquor. The old hunter had a taste for drink, and Noah had learned to partake. He uncorked a bottle of the potent King's Bustle, wincing at the sharp, spicy scent. A single sip scorched his tongue.

A tribute to his master. With resolve, Noah forced down a hefty gulp.

The effect was immediate. His head buzzed, a cacophony thrumming in his skull, but the pain, the raw agony from his wound, dulled.

Next was the saltwater rinse. Noah poured the stinging solution over his injuries, the pain lancing through him, making his fingers falter. He quickly set the jar down.

"Ow..." he muttered, opening the jar of the witch's salve and smearing the purple paste thickly over his wound. Then, he wrapped his torso with bandages, encircling his midsection until the layers were snug, securing them with a knot.

After tending to his wounds, he leaned back and let the alcohol lull him into a restless sleep.

Daylight greeted him upon waking, with sunbeams piercing the forest canopy. The ancient camping stones had seen countless seasons pass, familiar with life and death. But Noah was not. He stood up, surveying the carnage. Crows pecked at Oliver, Dalton, and Jaffney's remains. He shooed them away, but they only retreated to nearby branches, watchful, awaiting their chance.

Burying them was near impossible, but leaving them exposed was unacceptable. Noah decided to cremate the bodies.

Logan's demise was the most tragic. His body was lost in the explosion of Afer flames, the grass now potentially dusted with the remnants of the hunter's remains, a thought that wrenched Noah's heart.

"Painful? Why the sorrow," Gladius's voice rasped in Noah's mind.

"Because I couldn't avenge him."

"Ha, to seek vengeance, you must take your life. What a delightful conundrum. Better to live well than dwell on the past and the dead," Gladius gloated.

Noah gathered more branches, making several trips until a pyre stood tall.

He dragged Dalton's mutilated body over, laying it atop the pyre.

"He was foolish, wandering the forest alone in anger. How could I resist?"

"Dalton just wanted to go home."

Noah found Oliver's body, rifling through the dead man's possessions without guilt—Oliver had it coming. He retrieved a hefty purse and Oliver's sword. Confident in his blink spell, Oliver had carried little else. Noah hefted his body, tossing it onto the pyre.

"He sought to share power with me, eager to become the strongest demon hunter. You could learn from him," Gladius remarked.

"And yet, your partnership did not save him. He's still dead."

He lifted Frederick's body, the master hunter's chest pierced through, his expression one of shock. This compounded Noah's grief.

"All accomplishments and ambitions, gone unnoticed," Gladius whispered.

"We're alike in that."

Finally, Jaffney's body, a bolt through her throat, her death neither peaceful nor dignified. Noah carried her to the fire.

"She was kind, yet fragile."

"Shut it."

He struck flint to steel, igniting the fire, which roared to life, billowing smoke into the sky. The flames hungrily licked the stacked wood, crackling as they caught the flesh of the demon hunters.

Grief overwhelmed Noah. Eight demon hunters had ventured into the Twilight Forest to slay their prey; seven fell, leaving only him.

"I was... afraid," Noah murmured, "intensely so, from the moment we entered these woods. When Denver fell, I was paralyzed by terror. But watching the others fight... I lost my fear."

He touched his chest over his heart.

"Now... the demon we hunt lives within me... I survived by betraying them all... I am profoundly sorry..."

With a sigh, Noah proclaimed, "All I can do now is atone. I am resolved to become a true demon hunter. Rest in peace, my predecessors..."

Noah clenched his fist, nails biting into his flesh.

"I resolve to drive them from this world, banish them all to where they belong. I will dedicate my life to hunting demons, to atone for my sins."

"Do you really believe that? My kind are not so easily dealt with," Gladius scoffed.

"I want your repentance."

"Repentance?" Gladius puzzled.

For the first time, Noah bargained with the demon.

"You must recognize your errors and resolve to correct them," Noah stated, engaging in a solemn internal dialogue. "You must humbly ask for the souls of the hunters you killed to forgive your tricks, your seductions, your illusions..."

"I am a demon; demons do not repent," Gladius rejected brutishly. "They came for me; why should I be the one to die? Should I not resist with all my means? Do you expect me to stand idle for slaughter? To be destroyed by your lowly banishment spells? Unthinkable!"

"If you want to live on with me, you must change," Noah declared with finality. "You must feel regret for your misdeeds."

Gladius's raspy laughter echoed.

"Misdeeds? Hunters and prey have slaughtered each other for millennia, piling corpses high. Yet you ponder right from wrong."

"If not right and wrong, then what should I consider?"

"Consider how to ascend, to break free from this cycle of killing. Together, you and I, we can find a new path. Fine, to soothe your fragile sensibilities, I promise I'll never make an enemy of mortals again, and I regret killing your predecessors and your mentor. Happy?"

With complex emotions, Noah conceded.

"There's one more thing... How do I ensure you won't consume my soul and dominate my will?" he asked.

"For now, that's difficult," Gladius hesitated before responding. "You don't understand; I seem stuck in your soul."

"Stuck? What do you mean?"

"As a demon, I'm despicable, so when I first invaded your body, my intention was to take your will."

"You failed."

"Of course, your spells... After you used 'Afer Flame,' your soul... became difficult to consume."

"Did Afer Flame protect my soul?"

"Of course, but I had to enter your body or be destroyed by this world. So I forced my way into your soul... and got stuck. It's a shame you can't comprehend my torment. The mighty soul of Blade demon, trapped by the meager soul of a mortal..."

"And you called the hunter's spells rubbish."

"I haven't changed my opinion."

"What about those floating, flying blades?"

"They're products of demonic magic, with a time limit, active for about a day or weakened upon attack. I created them in haste. Do you want them? Give me suitable materials, and I can craft for you."

"I need only one weapon."

"Very well, gather all the metals you find, and I will forge for you the greatest demonic blade!"

Noah presented Oliver's sword and his previously acquired Blade of Corruption.

"You killed Julius and crafted this weapon from his spine," Noah observed the skeletal part of the Blade of Corruption.

"You slaughter deer and strip their tendons for bowstrings. Where was your hesitation then? Limit your double standards for me."

Gladius, the Blade demon, slowly manifested its power. The demonic essence swiftly peeled from the Blade of Corruption, floating in mid-air as a dark mineral.

"What is 'demonic essence' exactly?" Noah asked.

"Solidified souls. We demons live on souls, using them as fuel and tools."

"We burn souls when we cast spells too."

"Haven't you heard the story of the hunter pioneers? Your spells are taught to you by demons."

"How much do you know about that demon?"

"I'm not sure which one; I've come to this world infrequently, and my previous descents were in other nations."

The dark demonic essence clung to Oliver's sword, forming a greyish coating. The blade elongated, metal singing as it shaped into perfect curves, the edges lethally sharp. It was the most fearsome weapon Noah had ever seen, meriting caution with just a glance.

"Can mortals do this? Can mortals?" Gladius boasted maniacally. "Behold me, Blade demon! Master of sharpness, supreme slayer!"

"Excellent weapon," Noah nodded.

"Name it. I know mortals love to name things."

"Gladius, the Foreign Gray Sword," Noah lifted the shadowy blade as sunlight glinted off its edge, casting dazzling light. "A demon's blade for hunting demons."

"Let's get to it; I can hardly wait," Gladius urged eagerly. "Go chop something, slice something, or I'll get very uncomfortable..."

"Yes..."

"Without a master, I can teach you many things. The first lesson is to endure. Once you command ultimate power, whether you choose to kill me, avenge others, or pursue your own ambitions, you can. But until then, you endure! Only the weak have the right to endure!" Gladius proclaimed.

His words were sharp but true. Noah reflected. I am nothing now, powerless to bargain with it or expel this clamorous being from my body.

As a demon lord, Gladius harbored many secrets worth uncovering. Time would tell.

I don't trust it, but I must rely on it.

I wonder if it reads my thoughts too... Well, as long as it doesn't bother me, it's fine.

Noah pondered his next steps.

First and foremost, he had to leave the Twilight Forest and return to Ash Tree Hall, the site of the hunters' hall. It was a coastal town in the northern reaches of the Roman Kingdom, near the border, part of the Upper Roman district.

The Roman Kingdom was geographically divided into four regions.

Upper Roman lay to the northeast, close to the swamps of the sorcerers, the kingdoms of the barbarians, and the lands of darkness.

The West Coast held the capital of the Roman Kingdom, where the Roman king had established his rule, with vast territories around the West Coast belonging to the royal family, making the king the most powerful lord in the land.

The Green River district, in the heart of the kingdom, was a vast expanse of flat countryside near the walking forests of the elves.

Lower Roman bordered the southern peninsula kingdoms and the eastern Shan-Yin Empire.

The hunters came from Upper Roman, and although other regions had their halls, the relationships between them were distant, with little interaction. Noah's first task was to return to Ash Tree Hall and assume control of the Upper Roman hall.

He was the only demon hunter left in this region.

Noah knew he was unprepared, but there was no one else to shoulder the burden.

Perhaps I need to train a few new hunter recruits... he mused.

Managing the hunters' hall was a grave responsibility. Noah had visited the hall with Logan, and there were various affiliates like scribes and spies. He had heard Frederick had loans outstanding, but the amount owed was unknown.

Now, all of that belonged to Noah: a hall, an organization, an industry...

Time to set out, he thought, looking north. To return to Ash Tree Hall, to rebuild the hunters' hall. He stepped forward, leaving behind the campsite where flames consumed hope and pain.