"Wonder what for." Eryk shook his head. Someone broke into his castle and defeated three of four of his most reliable guards, and he didn't seem to care.

Nor did Zuimu, but her smile was apparent, even behind her mask. Quickly, she reached into her pocket.

"Another thing I need to sign? What's with all you people building things in Magna?" he made a strange face.

"Mh." Zuimu nodded, before handing him the sheet.

He scanned the words written atop and then hung for a few more seconds around the ones scattered below. Zuimu had enough time in Eversky to practice her writing, and while some scrobbled would suggest Old Manjuno for the most pretentious "style-winners" among Tributals, the Nuil easily deciphered her message, and then looked back at her, a little shocked.

Zuimu blinked a few times, waiting, before Eryk reached out for his crutch at the side of the bed and stood, perhaps collecting his words.

"You want to work here?" Eryk asked, with an unsure expression. In response, she quickly nodded, but Eryk didn't seem as sure of her agreement. "Why would you?"

She tilted her head.

"Do you... want to help me?" he asked, putting his hand on his chest, and baring his teeth.

Zuimu nodded, closing her eyes.

"This isn't some joke, right?" he continued. "You think you could sacrifice your own life to be of any help or..." he looked back at the paper. "I suppose you meant Magna here but you wrote Magma."

Zuimu rolled her eyes, her gestures suggesting: "You perfectly know what I meant!"

Eryk wasn't particularly convinced. The last time Lamon became the man he once was, he fought through all the people who desperately tried to be in the same position as him simply because of the money they were to receive.

Lamon seemed different, however. At times, Eryk genuinely thought that the man cared for him as much as he cared for his right hand.

Then what about this girl he just met?

Zuimu, to be frank, followed exactly two principles in her plan. One followed the story she read in Ganmon, and the other pretty much entailed getting a clear answer to all her burning questions, one way or another.

"You don't have to." Eryk opened his palms. "Are you really strong enough-"

Zuimu suddenly pointed to something on the paper, and Eryk read it again.

His face, once again, shifted towards a different expression.

Not one of curiosity or interest concerning Zuimu's words, but rather, a strange disgust appeared. He stuffed it into his pocket, fixed his collar and cleared his throat.

"You're a Demonear," Eryk muttered. He bared his teeth, before turning around and facing the snowful window. "I don't do business with the likes of you."

Zuimu had to take some time for his words to settle in, but when they did, Eryk spoke again.

"The entire world disregards your profession, and here I was, looking for answers concerning how you entered the castle. You brutally fought your way through, because you always want to get what you want." Eryk turned, scoffing. "Because you think you deserve it."

Zuimu furrowed her eyebrows. "Mhhm!"

"Is this why you came here? To deceive me?" Eryk looked at her again, hastily lifting the paper. "I'm a Demonear, I can protect you." he read the words she pointed to, and Zuimu clenched her fist. "All you do is hurt others before hurting yourself."

Zuimu stepped closer, but Eryk pushed her away.

"The world would be better without you. We don't need more demons. We don't need more death. We don't need more problems!" he snickered, putting her hand on his shoulder and almost pushing her off the stairs before hesitating at the last moment.

Zuimu stared at his blank expression, which quickly shifted back into that earlier anger, but... it wasn't something that stemmed from genuine hurt.

Without another word, she gazed into his fiery gaze, spotting a cold soul hiding beneath all those bleak colours. There was no shine to them after all.

Yet, she didn't understand. Eryk's hand instinctively landed on her three-pronged spear, hidden in a sheath behind her back, but he didn't do anything, except for letting Zuimu go.

He sighed, before scouring away from the girl. Zuimu stared at him for a few more seconds and the words of Zibun or Kaiko bounced back. Even if she wanted to try, the Nuil put up a barrier between the two, perhaps, in the form of an excuse.

He wasn't afraid of Zuimu. He was cautious.

The girl stood up and reached her hand out before Eryk raised a finger, as well as his voice.

"You three," he uttered, and Zuimu turned towards the wooden door, with the mentioned number of guards flinging it open and storming up the stairs. "Get her out of my chamber."

Zuimu shook her head again, almost leaping forward with how fast she was about to run.

Suddenly, six arms collided, and then landed on her arms, pulling her away from the prize she sought. Eryk stood still, staring outside, while she struggled in their iron grasp.

She could've done it. She could've used that Demonear power Eryk seemingly despised to escape their clasp, but didn't.

After reaching the edges of the water connecting the exit, her hand managed to land on her mask, and with a swift pull-off, her voice echoed in.

"Where are they, Nuil?" she yelled out. "Where are my friends-"

The door was shut.

Eryk furrowed his eyebrows, putting so much pressure on the crutch that it should've snapped in two. He squinted his eyes, trying to stare through the snow, spotting the distant statue of Darius.

A Demonear, who with his sacrifice, saved and rebuilt the city of Magna from the ruins. Preserving the history of Tukmans, Zenons and Vigils, keeping those three fortifications intact.

...and now, only a faulty king remained.

***

Fortunately enough, the bells rang when Zuimu was carried through the halls, and seeing as the guards weren't necessarily keen on keeping up with someone of the likes of her for the next hours, instead of putting her in the basement prison cell, they kicked her out with a boot.

Either way, she probably would've been able to escape. Even if they took her weapon, there was always that demonic side of hers, she probably would've been able to squeeze her way out of that confinement and into searching for answers.

But Zuimu vowed not to do so. That smile of the fifth prayer she thought about kept fading away, especially after she put her mask back on and strolled forward.

It stopped snowing after a few minutes, and the Mirillians which earlier worked at creating the extension at the bar moved into sweeping the snow away from the Midcity square and forcefully dumping it into the rivers. Snow never really hailed in Mirillis, but the upper stones of Soban sometimes crashed into little shiny pieces and obstructed the rocky streets. Mirillians often pushed such piles into the waterfall's end, believing that the great chimera would eat such and erect even more bountiful towns.

Talking about things springing out of nowhere Zuimu came to notice that a fountain appeared only after a few hours of her arrival in Magna. It stood right behind the well, with the landscape extending in its background, but unlike any other, the statue atop bore no resemblance to Eryk or any other ruler.

It was a small sun standing on a stone pole, and if one looked from the right angle, it'd cover where Darius' head once was. Such quick changes reminded her to look at the Midcity Bar once again, and skipping around the renovated cobblestones, the door was left swiftly ajar.

Walking up the stairs, the insides were completely hollow. Long gone was the access to the inn's upper rooms, and all the tables were missing.

She stepped around the counter, all the selection of alcohol wiped out with stains on the sides, and the entrance to the backroom and the basement was locked.

If it couldn't be Eryk, then it must've been Ella who knew something, but where was she?

If things were laid out that way, maybe she wasn't supposed to know. Maybe it didn't matter, or as Eryk said, no one wanted to concern themselves with the likes of Demonears. She squinted her eyes, clenched her fist, and stepped out.

The next steps led her towards the Kyrkogarde district, and after hours of painfully navigating the new roads, her gaze landed in the direction of the few huts strung alongside the river, seemingly unchanged, much like everything in the district, spare for a few new graves which appeared.

Zuimu stepped inside a few roads, and when people hid inside houses, staring at the cloudy sky, she found herself in front of the one she knew, and again, it was left completely unscathed.

She knocked on the door, and window, and tried to take a peak in, but everything was left in its right place. The weapons Elton carried and the ones which she hung her eye on were still in those baskets or on colourful carpets, hanging from the walls, but there was no one to sharpen them. The cauldron was empty, and no sound came from the inside.

Zuimu didn't know where and if Zenon was still around in Magna, but hastily predicted from Eryk's words that Demonears weren't welcome, so he wasn't either. Walking around Homieo, she recalled how easily he came to hate the one who stood behind the Demonear test, and how he never hid his anger. Back then, it seemed genuine, and the Nuil himself played out to be a completely different person from the one he was now.

Weary thoughts clouded her mind, and soon enough, Homieo turned into something it wasn't beforehand. Not that she changed district, simply mentioned earlier, the open streets with many big houses turned into cramped ones with tall buildings housing many different families on different floors. The access to the river and the newly-formed bridges was halved, and only a few remnants of the past remained.

She crouched down, spotting a basket hastily slopped and seemingly crushed into pieces, sitting at the side of the stone foundations. With a quick tug, a small piece of paper flew out from the insides, with the words "Jeffy" written atop.

She recalled the name. Jeffy was the third partner of the Morians who attended the test.

"Morio, wasn't he?" she thought. "Jyuzou, too." she blinked a few times. "Atomu and Chyuuichi mentioned them a lot, and those were the ones we fought for. Fought, because we were Demonears who could easily handle the swarms of demons in Mount Aria. But what about him? Was he respected as a Demonear or a person?"

There was no answer, at least, not one in plain sight. Maybe the world wasn't meant for them. Maybe humans were meant to be at the bottom, protected by Half-Demons, instead of their wit.

But Zuimu longed to be a human.

She looked at her weapon, and couldn't bring herself to smile.

She sighed, looking up, as snow started hailing once more.

In the distance, a silhouette appeared, treading through the snow.

Zuimu squinted her eyes before they quickly widened, and with a decision that only took her a couple of seconds to process.