“Ai-chan, sing me a song. This road’s so dull, like a gray sky with no birds.” Eli shrugged and hitched Edlyn higher on his back like a pack of feathers.

“Heh, keep dreaming.” Edlyn curled her lip like a blade catching light.

“Wow, you’re no fun at all, like tea gone cold.”

“Hey, bastard, don’t push your luck!” Edlyn thumped his back like a hammer on a drum.

“Huh? Push my luck?” Eli barked a laugh, then smacked her small butt like swatting a cheeky fox. “Now that’s pushing my luck.”

“You—!” Edlyn’s glare flashed like flint striking steel.

A sudden impulse surged through Eli like a spark in dry grass; he turned, scooped her off his back, and held her as if cradling a startled bird.

His steady stare pressed on Edlyn like summer heat; her anger slipped, and she blinked, lost as if fog rolled in.

Eli smiled and lowered his head like a tide leaning to shore.

Edlyn pushed his face away with both hands like swatting a moth. “Y-you—what are you doing?” Her voice quivered like a plucked string.

Eli’s arms tightened around her like a warm net, his face blissful. “Ah! Why? Why?” His voice spilled like a child at a fair.

“You—you—what do you want?!” She struggled like a fish in a net, but numb legs were lead and cotton, so she went still in his arms like a curled cat.

He dipped his head and caught her mouth in a hard kiss like a storm breaking; Edlyn’s eyes flew wide like moons.

After a long moment, their lips parted like leaves from a branch.

Eli (smug): …

Edlyn (dazed): …

Eli (grinning wickedly): …

Edlyn (coming back to herself): …

“Heh-heh-heh, Ai-chan—you smell sweet and taste sweeter, like fruit in the sun.”

“You! We—we shall kill you!” Edlyn’s fury flared like a torch in oil.

Eli hugged her small frame tight like a shield. “Aw, Demonic Lord, don’t be mad. You’ll get used to it, like rain in spring.”

“We shall kill you!”

A memory rose in Eli like ink in water—some book said there’s a way to stop a girlfriend’s fight...

So he leaned in as naturally as wind finds a gap; while Edlyn blinked, he stole another deep kiss like a thief at night.

“Mmph.” Edlyn went hazy for a heartbeat like mist over a lake.

Eli drew back and saw the girl in his arms blinking blankly, like a deer on snow not yet broken.

The roguish Hero felt full and proud, like a cat that caught the cream.

Holy hell, I kissed the Demon King silly today. That’s badass, like fireworks in daylight.

Edlyn curled in his embrace like a shy flame; why no sudden thunderstrike?

Because her long-suppressed Succubus need surged back like a black tide; it flooded her in a breath like monsoon rain.

No matter how she clamped down, it slipped through like sand through fingers; his scent alone made her melt like wax.

That unspeakable heat crawled over her skin like ants of fire; so to keep face, she chose stillness like a statue and silence like the moon.

Eli, none the wiser, just smiled and walked on, steps light as wind over grass.

After a long while, Edlyn forced the Succubus impulse down a notch like a lid on a boiling pot; her body steadied a little like a ship finding the current.

The state was still bad, like a frayed bowstring; she only fixed Eli with a threatening stare like a fox warning a hound.

Eli, thick-headed and pleased, carried the girl forward like a victor carrying a banner.

Before long, a ripple in the air prickled them both like needles in the wind; their eyes lifted toward a patch of shadow like a storm on the horizon.

Eli glanced down at Edlyn, brows knit like iron hooks. “Ai-chan... I didn’t sense wrong, did I?”

Edlyn drew a deep breath like drinking ice. “No. A very, very dense death aura, like rot in a swamp.”

“Do we go take a look?”

“Better not. We’re both in poor shape, like arrows half-snapped.” She tapped her chin like a chess player weighing a move.

“Heh-heh. Too bad. I won’t let you leave.” The raspy voice slid in like a knife through silk, and killing intent locked on them like a hunter’s snare.

Eli faced the sound, right hand dropped to the hilt like a hawk to a perch, left arm cinched Edlyn’s slim waist like a guardrail.

“Who are you?” Eli asked, voice steady as a drawn bow.

“Who am I? I should be asking who you are.” A figure peeled out of the shadow like ink from paper.

He had the pointed ears and perfect face only the Elf Race wore, but a cruel scar ran from the corner of his right eye to his chin like a cracked river, marring that beauty.

“We’re passing through, nothing else meant; hope we didn’t disturb you,” Eli said with a frown like a cloud.

The elf shook his head and smiled cruelly, teeth like a wolf. “Your mere presence before me is the greatest offense.”

“Oh? And what do you want?” Edlyn spoke, amused like a cat with yarn.

“Why, to let you sample my newest torture,” he crooned, then in a blur he was in their faces like lightning, a palm slicing down like a guillotine.

Eli drew in that instant, white steel caught purple claws like frost meeting bruise; he fell back, flicked his blade, and leveled it at the elf like a lance. “Do you really want to die?”

The perverse elf laughed, wild as hyenas. “Want to die? Hahaha—no. I’ll teach you a fate worse than death!” He murmured a spell; his hands darkened to purplish-black like rotting plums, nails lengthening like talons.

Purple bled along his arms like spilled dye; he grinned. “A Sacred Rank swordsman—good, good. Die!”

He lunged in a warped stance like a spider unfolding, rushing them like a gale.

Edlyn clung to Eli’s neck like ivy and weighed him with grave eyes. “Stupid Hero, careful; to Our eyes, his whole body steams with blood-qi, like fog off a slaughterhouse.”

“Blood-qi? Isn’t that just killing intent?” Eli’s tone was light, like leaves in wind.

“No, you idiot! We mean the kind you get from soaking daily in mountains of corpses and seas of blood,” she said, voice heavy as iron.

“To you right now, that’s a big threat,” she added coolly, as Eli’s blade met the elf’s palm like flint on stone.

“Huh? So how’s that different from killing intent?” Eli spun with Edlyn in his arms like a dancer dodging a falling lamp.

“It harms the body’s functions, more or less; We’re not fully sure,” she muttered, brow creased like folded paper. “Hundreds of years ago a subordinate had it; We asked for fun, and that’s all We know.”

Eli’s sword tip crashed against the elf’s palm like a nail into oak, yet it didn’t pierce; his breath hitched like a missed step.

The elf seized the moment and pressed in close like a storm wall.

Eli sprang back, blade sweeping for the elf’s neck like a moon arc.

The elf snapped both hands to the steel, gripped, and wrenched; Eli’s sword broke with a cry like a snapped icicle.

“Hahaha! A swordsman without a sword—helpless, right? Die!” he jeered, joy ugly as mold.

Eli slipped aside from the claw like a shadow dodging torchlight; then, using Edlyn’s back like a slate, he sketched a magic circle on her clothes and stamped it onto his hand like a seal.

He booted the elf away like punting a wolf, thrust out his palm blazing with sigils, and roared, “Wind God’s Extreme Thunder!”

Boom!

A tornado and savage lightning coiled in his palm like chained dragons, and a gray beam punched out like a cannon shot.

The elf hadn’t expected high-tier magic; the lightning caught him full-on like a net of spears.

They broke apart to distance like duelists in frost. Edlyn eyed Eli with disdain, cool as winter. “Hero, where’s your Holy Sword?”

Eli shrugged like a lazy wave. “Couldn’t exactly respawn with me.”

Across the way, the perverse elf glanced at the palm-sized hole in his back like a burned brand; purple light flooded it like spilled paint, and in a blink the wound was gone like a wiped slate.

“Didn’t think two little mice had teeth,” he said, eyes cold as glass.

Eli sighed, gaze wary. “What’s with his body? It’s weird, like rubber soaked in poison.”

Edlyn pointed toward the elf’s chest like an archer sighting. “Dummy, didn’t you see the purple gem in his palm? Likely all his power flows from that thing like a spring.”

“Emmm. I still can’t deal with him now. Ai-chan, should we bail?” Eli’s voice dipped like dusk.

“Tch. A Hero who only runs—Our Demon Race isn’t like you,” Edlyn said, scorn sharp as sleet.

“Fine, princess. What do you want?” Eli asked, patience thin as paper.

“Hold a bit longer, and We can help,” she said, eyes turning like dark wheels.

“Ha? Help my ass.” Eli rolled his eyes like marbles.

“Just give Us thirty seconds.” She pressed her hands together like a prayer and closed her eyes like night falling.

“Alright, alright.” Eli sighed, then shouted at the elf like a bell. “Come on, kid—hard to believe I’m a mage too, huh?”

He swept his hands, and dozens of golden circles bloomed around like suns. “Magma Annihilation!”

Lava fountained from the sigils like dragon blood; the elf danced through the gaps with nimble feet like a weasel.

“Damn human,” the elf spat, but a misstep took a hit to his left shoulder; fire chewed a bloody hole like acid.

Eli watched the roaring elf with a flat look like rain on stone. “Alright, kid. Say whatever you want.”

Under Eli’s storm of energy like rain and thunder, time ticked like dripping water.

Then the elf found a seam like a crack in ice; a claw flashed for Eli’s throat like a scythe.

Eli didn’t dodge; as the purple hand neared like a viper, a black, strange longsword slid from Eli’s chest like a shadowed fang and sheared the elf’s outstretched hand like bamboo.

The elf sprang back like a cat with its tail stepped on, retreat ragged as torn cloth.

Edlyn sighed like wind through reeds. “Tsk. He didn’t use his right hand; his left doesn’t have that gem.”

She handed Eli an ancient black blade like a night river. “Sigh, this was the Demon Race’s ‘Holy Sword,’ crafted to erase you; now it’s yours,” she said with a shrug like falling leaves.

Eli took the black sword from her arm like settling a raven on his wrist; a strange familiarity washed through him like a bell-tone, and his heart trembled like struck glass.

The blade lifted like a winter moon, and his voice came cold and weary, yet full of majesty like a mountain in fog. “Thug, bring me your life.”