She Almost Killed Flamme?

Obviously, they are all demons who cannot understand emotions, so why is this purple-haired demon so good at disrupting other people's emotions?

'It's really... a strange demon...'

It was maddening, and yet, strangely disarming. He couldn't decide if her demeanor was a calculated ploy or if she truly cared so little about the power dynamics of their kind. Either way, it left him completely off-balance.

"Alright then," Aura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension. She leaned back in her chair, one hand casually resting on her chin, the other gesturing toward the door. "Since you're not planning to pledge loyalty to me, just rest up after you've filled your stomach and then leave. The door's over there."

Her tone was light, dismissive even, but there was something about it—an unspoken finality that made Schlacht's skin crawl. There was no malice in her words, but there was no warmth either. She acted as though his presence truly didn't matter to her, as though he were just a passing breeze she might forget the moment he left.

"Understood..." Schlacht murmured after a pause, the word slipping from his mouth before he could think. He pushed back his chair and stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were still trying to make sense of what had just transpired.

He turned toward the door, his mind swirling. A meeting between demons, ending so calmly? Like strangers parting ways? No battle, no scheming, no conflict? It felt surreal. Wrong, almost. And yet, there was something strangely appealing about it. It's not bad, though. Just... strange.

'It's really... a strange demon...'

As he reached for the door, ready to leave this bizarre encounter behind, Aura's voice rang out again, halting him in his tracks.

"Oh, by the way, since you've eaten my porridge, it's only fair if I ask you a few questions, don't you think?"

Schlacht stiffened, his hand freezing on the doorknob. He turned his head slightly, enough to catch her gaze from the corner of his eye. There it was again—that unsettling, unreadable look she gave him. It wasn't threatening, exactly, but it wasn't friendly either. It was... something else.

"Fair enough," he replied cautiously, letting go of the door and turning to face her fully.

Aura tilted her head slightly, her purple hair catching the light as a small smile played at the corner of her lips. "Let me ask," she said slowly, her words deliberate, "do you know what state Schlacht is in right now among the demons?"

Know your enemy and know yourself, and you can fight a hundred battles without defeat. If Aura wanted to deal with Schlacht, she'd need to gather information first. Whether it was weakening his forces or planning an assassination, understanding the current state of the "Sage of the Demons" was critical.

Schlacht's heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to remain calm, his face betraying nothing. He stood perfectly still, every muscle in his body tense as he processed her question.

"Schlacht?" he repeated, his tone neutral, though his mind raced. 'Why is she asking about me? Does she know? Could she have figured it out?'

The demons are now in a state of civil strife. Because the demon king has unified the demons, the demons have gathered together as never before and have formed a rough social form. Since they have gathered together, there will be fighting. Schlacht and another faction have been fighting endlessly. You can't talk to me, and I can't talk to you. Both of them think that they represent the future of the demons and want to seize the power under the demon king.

That was why Schlacht had been hunted by other demons before.

'But her?' he thought, glancing at Aura. 'Is she one of them?'

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice dropped a fraction as he asked, "Are you looking for him?"

Aura's smile didn't falter. If anything, it deepened, her expression a perfect mask of casual amusement. "No," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "Just curious. What plans could such a far-sighted sage, capable of glimpsing the future, have for the demons' development?"

Schlacht stared at her, searching for any hint of deception. Her words were measured, calculated, yet delivered with such ease that it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Was she probing for information? Testing him? Or was she truly just... curious?

"Oh, I wouldn't know," he said at last, his voice carefully neutral. "I'm not Schlacht."

The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Aura saw right through it. She tilted her head again, her gaze lingering on him for just a moment too long before she let out a soft laugh.

Aura spoke in lies, and Schlacht responded in kind.

Both harbored ulterior motives.

Schlacht felt uneasy. The current situation wasn't favorable, and the gnawing sense of losing control over his own fate left a bitter taste in his mouth. He shifted uneasily in his seat, his gaze darting to Aura, who seemed utterly relaxed, leaning back in her chair with an air of nonchalance.

'This isn't how it was supposed to go.'

He had woken up expecting the cool silence of the woods, where he would have time to regroup, recover, and plan his next steps. Instead, he had found himself in this strange predicament—plucked from his path by a demon whose motives were as opaque as her demeanor.

But such deviations were nothing new to him. He had long ago accepted that even his ability to foresee the future couldn't guarantee perfection.

Yes, Schlacht could see the future, but future sight wasn't omniscience. His magic of foreseeing a thousand years into the future was still incomplete. For now, he can only communicate with his future self a thousand years later and let his future self give instructions to his present self.

The ultimate form of magic that could predict the future a thousand years - the magic of sharing memories with one's future self a thousand years later, or even allowing one's future self to come to the present, was something that Schlacht had not yet mastered.

Even when following my future self's plans, perfection is impossible, Schlacht mused, his lips curling into a faint, self-deprecating smile. He had understood this truth long ago.

The problem, he knew, was the shifting nature of time. The future self he communicated with existed in a timeline that had yet to be altered by his current actions. Every decision he made sent ripples cascading through the timeline, reshaping it in unpredictable ways. Even his future self—a version of him shaped by a thousand years of wisdom—dared not make too many definitive comments about the present.

The uncertainties were maddening, yet Schlacht persisted. After all, what other choice did he have?

He sighed quietly, his thoughts drifting to one of his greatest failures: Flamme.

She was the product of his worst planning error, a glaring example of how even his future sight could fail him. It had all started centuries ago, with a single, seemingly clear directive from his future self: eliminate humanity's first sage, Summerfield.

So Schlacht had done it. He had killed her.

But the timeline did not stabilize as expected. Instead, a more formidable human arose: Prescott, the Saint of Magic. Once again, his future self instructed him to act, and once again, Schlacht followed through, cutting down this rising threat.

Yet the cycle continued. Another timeline brought forth Electra, the Architect of Magic, a prodigy who revolutionized humanity's understanding of magic and shattered the demons' monopoly over its use.

Schlacht had mobilized his forces, sacrificing a third of the demons who had defected to him, and finally broke into the human territory and killed the human child who was still playing in the mud with an idiotic look on her face.

Finally, the timeline seemed stable. The threat was neutralized, and Schlacht allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction.

But then came Flamme.

Unlike her predecessors, she was an anomaly—a figure completely unaccounted for in any of his foresight. Rising from obscurity, she not only surpassed all those before her but fundamentally reshaped the trajectory of humanity.

As the ancestor of human magic, Flamme didn't merely spread its use; she weaponized it, arming all of humanity and leading them to an era of unprecedented power. Under her influence, humanity grew stronger than ever, their unity and magical prowess posing a threat to the demons that was several times worse than even the earliest timelines.

Schlacht stood still, a growing sense of frustration twisting inside him. Really? He couldn't suppress the thought. So that's how this was going to be?

No matter how many brilliant humans he had killed, no matter how many timelines he had altered, an even stronger one always appeared. Humanity had a seemingly endless capacity to evolve, to grow more formidable with each passing century.

Schlacht had never encountered such an unwinnable war, not even with the advantage of foresight. No matter how meticulously he tried to bend the future to his will, the world always found a way to throw an unexpected curveball.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing. In the future, he had witnessed the balance shift. The demons, once on the cusp of victory, were slowly crushed by the overwhelming tide of human advancement.

He could feel the weight of that truth like a boulder pressing down on him. The demons had been even with humanity in the past—at least, in some timelines—but now? Now the humans were destined to crush them.

Standing before him now was yet another unforeseen variable, a disruption of his carefully laid plans. Just like Flamme had been. Schlacht narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking over Aura's relaxed yet confident posture.

Where had this purple-haired demon come from? His future self had never mentioned her. Not once. And yet, here she stood, so calm, so assured—an anomaly in the timeline that he could never have predicted.

"Why did you settle near the Holy Sword?" Schlacht asked, his voice laced with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.

"Oh? Did you also feel the power in the air? Although you are short, you are quite knowledgeable." Aura glanced at Schlacht in surprise and continued,

Aura tilted her head slightly, as though weighing her next words. "The Demon King unified the demons," she began, her tone shifting to something more measured, almost reverent. "Our future is bright. Many ambitious demons are laying plans for that future. I'm no different; I have my own goals for the greater good of the demons."

Aura's gaze turned toward the source of the sacred energy—the direction of the Holy Sword. Her expression was firm and resolute, a look Schlacht had only ever seen in his own reflection.

'She's serious,' Schlacht realized. There was no doubt in his mind now—this demon wasn't simply posturing. Her ambitions were real, and they carried the same dangerous edge as his own.

"It seems," he said carefully, breaking the silence, "that you and I are comrades, working hard for the victory of the demons."

Aura turned her gaze back to him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Schlacht thought he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—approval, perhaps? But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same cool detachment she'd worn since they first crossed paths.

"May I ask your name?" Schlacht inquired respectfully.

Aura paused. It wasn't a long pause, but it was enough to make Schlacht wonder if he'd overstepped. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a faint furrow appearing between her brows as though she were calculating something.

Why the hesitation? Schlacht thought. Surely she isn't afraid to share her name with another demon. Unless...

Aura hesitated because she feared revealing too much. But then again, what could this young demon deduce from her name alone?

Could he really uncover her identity with just that?

There is no one who knows Aura in this era.

Unless it was Schlacht spying on the present from the future, Aura was absolutely safe.

Reassured by this thought, Aura decided it would be okay to tell this little demon.

"Aura," she replied.

[Did you hear that?] he immediately called out, his mind reaching for the voice of his future self.

[Aura,] the voice responded, its tone sharp with urgency. [The great demon from a thousand years from now, born five hundred years ago... How could she appear in this era?]

[You don't know either?] Schlacht pressed.

[The future is shifting,] the voice admitted reluctantly. [She's a variable. But she shouldn't have done anything significant yet to alter history... No, wait. Perhaps she already has. If you've observed her, I should know more shortly—]

Schlacht's pulse quickened, but he kept his expression neutral. Aura was watching him, and he couldn't afford to let her see even the faintest crack in his composure.

Moments later, the voice returned, stronger this time. [Wait, the timeline has shifted. I've found records of Aura in your era. She's the only demon in history who came close to killing Flamme, the ancestor of human magic! It's in Flamme's own writings—she described Aura strangling her, nearly ending her life when she was just twenty and still weak. But... then... some details seem erased, likely by human hands. Flamme must have sensed my presence.]

Schlacht's eyes widened fractionally before he quickly schooled his features. 'She almost killed Flamme?' he murmured under his breath, the disbelief clear in his tone. He glanced at Aura again, his gaze sharp and probing.

'Just her?' The thought echoed in his mind, impossible to ignore. Aura didn't look like the type to leave things half-finished—let alone let a future legend like Flamme escape her grasp. And yet, here she was, standing before him, a mystery wrapped in contradiction.