Boooom!
Columns of flame raged on through the battle field, destroying and decimating demons upon demons with no restrictions. Cerbe was running rampage with nothing to stop it.
Boooom!!
Damien was somewhere else on the battleground, sending fireballs after fireballs towed approaching demons with such determination and energy that no demon could come close enough to pay a hand on him.
Luton on the other hand had found its way through the mass of beings, silently devouring whatever it found tasty or attractive. Even Damien didn’t know where the Stellar Slime was as it continued to change locations too quickly for him to track.
Around the battlefield, demons fell without a halt. Damien’s appearance with Cerbe had managed turned the tide so greatly that the relief couldn’t be hidden on the faces of the other fighters around. Even Arielle felt the relief, wiping sweat off the side of her face.
She took a moment to stare at Damien’s valiant back as he ran through the area, destroying every demon gathering he found. He looked the most reliable amongst everyone.
~~~~~
After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, the last demon fell. Its body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and an eerie silence descended over the battlefield.
Damien stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His clothes were torn, his body bruised and battered, but he was alive.
The defenders erupted into cheers, their cries of victory echoing through the air. Damien didn’t join them. Instead, he turned to Cerbe and patted its bloodstained head.
“Well done,” he said softly.
He looked toward the horizon, where the demons had first attacked from. The night had been long and brutal, but the town still stood.
For now, that was enough.
The battlefield was quiet now, save for the groans of the injured and the soft hum of magic as healers moved about, tending to the wounded.
The aftermath of the battle painted a grim picture. Corpses of demons and fallen defenders were being gathered into separate piles.
Wanderers, guards, and civilians lay among the casualties, some needing immediate care, while others required only burial.
Damien leaned heavily on Cerbe, the hound’s solid frame serving as his makeshift support. He was visibly exhausted, his silver hair matted with blood and sweat.
His piercing blue eyes remained half-closed as he watched the cleanup unfold with an air of indifference.
Cerbe let out a low, warning growl whenever anyone approached Damien, a clear signal to keep their distance. Most heeded the hound’s warning, steering clear of the battered summoner.
Despite Cerbe’s growls, one figure advanced undeterred. Arielle moved with purpose, her expression a mix of relief and curiosity.
Her courage didn’t shake, even as Cerbe’s growls deepened. She halted a few meters away, her lips parted as if to call out to Damien, but hesitation stopped her.
Damien’s eyes opened lazily at the sound of Cerbe’s escalating growls. Seeing Arielle standing nearby, he sighed and issued a command through his system. “Cancel Cerbe’s summon.”
In a flash of light, Cerbe vanished, leaving Damien without support. He staggered slightly but caught himself and made his way to a large wooden crate. Seating himself, he finally allowed himself a moment of rest.
Freed from Cerbe’s intimidating presence, Arielle moved closer to Damien, her curiosity evident in her eyes. She crouched slightly to meet his gaze and asked, “What happened? What was that thing that entered the town?”
Damien leaned back against the crate, his body aching with every movement. His voice was low and gruff when he replied, “I dealt with it.”
His vague response didn’t satisfy her curiosity, but the relief in her expression was palpable. Whatever had happened, the threat was gone, and that was all that mattered to her at the moment.
Arielle’s gaze shifted to Damien’s head, where Luton was wobbling contentedly. A smile tugged at her lips, and before Damien could stop her, she reached out to touch the slime.
“Don’t—” Damien started to warn, but his words trailed off as Luton leapt from his head straight into Arielle’s outstretched arms.
Both of them froze in surprise.
Luton didn’t attempt to devour her or react defensively. Instead, it settled comfortably in her embrace, its gelatinous form warm and soft against her hands. Arielle laughed lightly, stroking the slime’s surface.
“I don’t believe it,” Damien muttered, shaking his head.
Luton’s behavior was completely unprecedented. It had never shown such affection toward anyone else before.
“Your slime is adorable,” Arielle said with a smile, holding Luton close.
“Adorable?” Damien scoffed. He pointed at the slime. “That thing is the same rank as the wolf you saw earlier. Grade Three. It’s anything but adorable.”
Arielle’s expression faltered as she processed his words. She looked down at Luton, her disbelief evident. “But… it feels so harmless.”
“That’s because it’s suppressing its aura,” Damien explained, waving a dismissive hand. “If it wasn’t, you’d have a very different opinion right now.”
Arielle studied Damien closely. His voice was weaker than usual, and his posture betrayed his exhaustion. Even seated, he looked as if he might collapse at any moment.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her tone soft but concerned. “You don’t look well. Do you need help?”
Damien shook his head. “Not for now,” he replied. “I just need rest. A lot of it.”
Kreeei!!
As if on cue, a loud screech drew their attention to the sky.
Thud!
Aquila descended gracefully, landing a few meters away. The griffin’s powerful wings kicked up a cloud of dust as it folded them against its sides.
Damien rose to his feet slowly, each movement a testament to his weariness. As he walked toward Aquila, Luton leapt from Arielle’s arms back onto Damien’s head, wobbling happily.
He climbed onto Aquila’s back, sparing Arielle a brief glance. “See you around,” he said, his voice still hoarse.
Arielle sighed as she watched him take off. “Stubborn as ever,” she muttered before turning back toward the Mercenary office. She had paperwork to finish.
Minutes after Arielle had settled at her desk, the door to the Mercenary office creaked open. She looked up, expecting another mercenary or a citizen needing help.
Instead, it was Damien.
He stood in the doorway, looking as battered as before, but his expression was different.
“On second thought,” he said, stepping inside, “I need your help.”
Arielle blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change of heart. “What kind of help?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
