Help Me Hide the Sword

After some time, Aura managed to find one person among the group who had enough cognitive abilities to hold a conversation. This individual, an older man with graying hair and weary eyes, seemed to be a leader or at least someone the others respected. Through a stilted and somewhat confusing exchange, Aura pieced together the story of these people.

They were originally from a remote religious country, far removed from the central hubs of civilization. This country, had recently lost a devastating war. The survivors—men, women, and children—had been captured and sold into slavery.

During their transport along a major trade route, they were intercepted by the bandits who had made their stronghold in these mountains. Ever since, they had been held here, never allowed to leave, their lives reduced to back-breaking labor and endless suffering.

When Aura asked which country it was, the person mentioned a name Aura had no recollection of.

It really was a remote place.

After all… they didn't even know about the existence of demons.

Aura reached up and touched the horns on her head, a subtle smile tugging at her lips. She had never imagined that the very features that marked her as a demon would one day be seen as a divine symbol.

To these people, her horns were a sign of the goddess's favor, a mark of purity and strength. They had taken the broken horn as a representation of suffering, while the intact one symbolized resilience.

With her new "believers" in tow, Aura returned to the mountain stronghold. The scene that greeted her was markedly different from the one she had left behind.

Most of the original bandits had been lured to the cave by Sasha and subsequently eaten by Aura. As for the rest, they couldn't suppress the slaves' rebellion, and their heads were cut off and hung on long poles, left to the wind, rain, and scorching sun.

According to the old man, this was a sacred ritual, a way to let the goddess who created the world exact her punishment on these sinners. Their souls, he claimed, were being judged by the divine, their bodies left to the mercy of the elements as part of the ritual.

At first, Aura had misunderstood the purpose of the ritual. She thought it was a method of preserving food, like smoking meat.

When she saw the flesh of the bandits slowly rotting and being picked apart by carrion birds, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. It seemed such a waste of potential sustenance, especially considering how efficiently she could have disposed of it herself.

In short, because of Aura's help, these slaves were no longer slaves; they had become the masters of the mountain stronghold.

They planned to turn this place into a new center of faith.

After securing their newfound freedom and safety, the former slaves celebrated for several days using the supplies left behind by the bandits.

Once the celebrations began to wind down, it was time to organize their new society. Among the believers was a former bishop, a man with a calm demeanor and a talent for management. He quickly took charge of assigning new residences and duties to each person.

The mountain stronghold, once a den of thieves, was transformed into a thriving community. Smoke from cooking fires filled the air each morning, mingling with the sounds of daily prayers, the clatter of tools, and the excitement of hunting parties setting out into the surrounding forests.

A piece of land just outside the stronghold was cleared and burned in preparation for planting. This act of reclaiming wasteland symbolized a new beginning.

Unlike the bandits who had survived by plundering, these people were determined to live by farming. They wanted to build a sustainable life once the snow melted, one where they could provide for themselves without resorting to violence or theft.

As for Aura, to be honest, aside from the initial period when she was surrounded and proclaimed to be some apostle of the goddess, a savior of the faithful from the hands of sinners, a divine overseer on earth, she didn't do anything.

There is no need for Aura to do anything.

Aura couldn't do anything either.

The Holy Sword's force field still weakened her to the point where even lifting her scythe required significant effort. So, instead of actively leading or participating in their activities, Aura became something of a living symbol for the community—a mascot.

Every day, female believers bathed and dressed her, finding a huge wooden tub and and all kinds of exotic flowers and plants from somewhere, and boiled water for Aura to wash her body. There were so many people surrounding her, and no one knew where Aura's original clothes had been taken to. Perhaps that tattered purple corset dress had been burned because it was stained with too much blood and couldn't be cleaned.

Aura didn't like being served by so many people, especially when they were braiding her hair. She didn't really like having so many people touching her hair at once.

But Aura did enjoy bathing. The bodies of demons are similar to those of humans in many ways. For example, they can enjoy the same taste of food and have similar sensitive points on the body. Things that make humans feel good can also be felt by demons.

Splash—

After a satisfying meal today, Aura soaked in the pool. She let her head fall back against the smooth stone edge, her purple hair splaying out in the water, mingling with the pale petals that floated on the surface. The scent of the flowers, a mix of sweet and earthy notes, filled her senses, easing the tension in her weary muscles.

Honestly, this kind of life was pretty nice, reminding Aura of her time living at Zanze's house. There were always people attending to her, and she didn't have to think about anything, just lying there and enjoying herself.

Only, there was no one around to scold her for being lazy.

Aura didn't miss that at all.

"Sasha, come here."

Her voice, though soft, carried a certain authority that had become second nature to her. Sasha, who had been quietly floating around the pool like a small, contented fish, immediately perked up.

"Hmm? Master Aura?"

"Help me scrape off the scabs on my back."

She attempted to reach the spot on her back where Flamme's spear had left its mark, but her arms felt like lead, and the exertion quickly sapped what little strength she had. The residual effects of the Holy Sword's suppression still lingered in her body, dulling her usually sharp senses and leaving her feeling frustratingly powerless.

Sasha's small body floated around in the water for a while before she finally managed to reach Aura with difficulty. She put her small hands on Aura's exposed snow-white back and caressed each wound one by one.

After all, she was the one who lured most of the bandits into the Aura's cave at the risk of her life.

Sasha was dirty before, so Aura hadn't noticed, but after she was cleaned, Aura realized Sasha's gray hair was actually a pale pink, with thick eyebrows and a round face. Sasha had been eating well since meeting Aura, and even better after the slave masters were killed. She had gained some weight and was no longer just skin and bones.

Most of the wounds had already healed, leaving only small scars that would gradually disappear with time, thanks to the demon's regenerative abilities. 

The largest wound, the one inflicted by Flamme's anti-magic spear, still throbbed faintly with a residual burn. The spear had left more than just a physical scar; it had embedded traces of magic that hindered Aura's natural healing abilities, forcing her to endure the slow process of recovery.

Sasha's hands moved over this wound with extra care, her fingertips tracing the jagged edges where the scab had yet to fully form. Her brow furrowed in determination as she worked to clean the area as best as she could. The water, warm and soothing, did much of the work, softening the scabs so they could be gently coaxed away without reopening the wound.

"Master Aura, you've been seriously injured…"

Sasha's gaze fell on Aura's thigh, visible beneath the white bath towel. There was a circular wound on her left leg. Although the bones and flesh had healed, a blood-red pattern similar to a leg ring was left on the skin.

Sasha reached out to touch Aura's thigh, intending to help massage the scar, but Aura, being quite sensitive, quickly withdrew her leg.

"I've made some mistakes and paid some prices."

"Even a goddess's envoy can make mistakes?"

"Haha, it's just the two of us, so there's no need to pretend, right? Sasha, you don't actually believe all that nonsense about the goddess's envoy, right?"

"Why does Master Aura say that? Sasha has always been your most devout follower."

"I didn't stay because of some divine nonsense. I stayed here because of the promise you made to me."

"You mean, as friends?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you for remembering."

"Hey, Sasha, can you stop letting so many people touch me? I don't like it."

"Sure… but Sasha alone can't move the lazy Master Aura."

"You'll grow up, right?"

"Maybe in two or three years, I'll be strong enough to carry Master Aura."

"It's only two or three years, a very short time."

Compared to the time Aura had experienced before and the time she would experience in the future, two or three years was really insignificant. For the demons, it passed in the blink of an eye.

"Master Aura, so I'll be the only one serving you?"

"I'm just more familiar with you."

"Thank you, Master Aura," Sasha squinted, smiling foolishly. "I really like Master Aura too."

"I don't like you!"

Aura needed to be served to live normally, but this was only because the holy sword's suppression occasionally caused her body to lose control.

——It's not because Aura was away from the rules and regulations of the Continental Magic Association that she became lazy.

At the same time, the reason Aura stayed in this abandoned mountain stronghold instead of fleeing immediately was because of the holy sword.

'Lord Demon King, watch over me!'

A resolute look appeared in Aura's eyes.

'Since you were killed by the holy sword in your previous life, I, Aura, will protect this place and never let any human find the holy sword again.'

Fate had brought her, Aura, here and made her the first one among both humans and demons to discover the trace of the holy sword, it must have been a sign from fate to give her, Aura, to eliminate this great threat for the demons.

The unknown existence had given Aura this opportunity, intending for her to change the future of both humans and demons, to ensure that the history of a hero slaying the Demon King with the holy sword would never happen again.

Therefore, Aura would eliminate the Sword Village at its root.

With a soft sigh, she shifted her gaze to the girl in her arms, a plan already forming in her mind. "Do you remember that game of stacking stones, Sasha?"

Sasha looked up, her pale pink hair clinging to her damp cheeks. "I remember," she replied, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Let's keep playing," Aura said, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

Sasha blinked in surprise. "Huh? Keep playing? How?"

"Next, you're going to build a village thirty miles east, around a stone cave."

"A village?" Sasha repeated, her confusion deepening. The idea seemed so out of place, so far removed from their current life of quiet seclusion in the stronghold.

"Yes, a village," Aura confirmed, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You're going to help me hide a sword, and you must never let any outsiders find it. No one outside the village must ever know of its existence."

"A sword?" Sasha echoed, her voice dropping to a whisper. The weight of the task Aura was entrusting to her was beginning to sink in, and she looked up at the demon with wide, questioning eyes.

"In exchange," Aura continued, her voice softening, "I'll teach you magic."

"…How long do I need to keep the sword hidden, Aura?"

"At least a thousand years."

"At least a thousand years…"

Cradled in Aura's arms, Sasha looked up at the demon's horns, which glistened with droplets of water, and deep in thought.