The next day, the sky remained overcast. Crows circled overhead, gliding past withered treetops to land among the charred corpses of the dog pack. Four skittish ponies pulled a six-wheeled cart toward the village.

The good news revived the half-ruined village. The Elder beamed, announcing a celebration to thank the Celestial Deity for blessing their adherence to tradition. The poor contributed labor, felling dead trees to build a viewing platform. Several men carried stone deity statues from the Elder’s home onto the stage. Generously, the Elder opened his cellar, ordering sacks of wheat, oats, and cured meats piled onto long tables—a quantity that stunned Fro.

Before the platform stood three long tables laden with food. Meat content decreased with each tier: the third table held only mold-speckled wheat, black bread, and thin gruel. The lowest caste ate on the ground, clutching grimy wooden bowls filled from a communal pot of porridge.

Bella was among them. After the dog pack dispersed the Wraiths and died, the Elder no longer needed her to gather Thundergrass. Deemed worthless, she’d been kicked out of his house. Her large, hopeful eyes fixed on the Elder devouring roast meat at the first-tier table.

The celebration excluded its greatest heroes: Aelina and Fro.

When Aelina asked for her reward, the Elder waved his greasy hand. "Here. Your Thundergrass."

A servant presented a wooden tray holding ten half-withered stalks—thinner than Aelina’s pinky finger.

"Only this much?"

"This is our village’s last reserve," the mustachioed Elder said, rubbing his hands together. His gaze never left Aelina’s full chest. "But if you’d let me... *experience* it..." He giggled. "Consider this conversation forgotten. You understand."

Aelina barely glanced at the Thundergrass. Smiling down at the Elder’s beady eyes buried in fat, she said, "Keep the herbs. We’d simply be honored to attend this sacred celebration."

Fro snorted beside her.

The shrewd Elder sensed something amiss. Yet as the day’s honored guest, the beautiful Silverhaired Maiden had personally begged to stay. Driven by instinct, he agreed—and his mind flooded with fantasies.

*If only my belly pressed against hers...* he mused, eyes tracing Aelina’s flat stomach and slender waist. *Later, when I raise the Ancestral Staff and chant in the Celestial Tongue... the Deity will make this girl crave me. Then I’ll—*

"Of course," he declared, puffing out his chest. He shot Fro a challenging smirk.

Before the feast began, the mustachioed Elder—the celebration’s star—climbed the platform. He gripped the Ancestral Staff: a wooden rod adorned with feathers and vibrant patterns. As the village shaman, he chanted guttural words before burning incense, his flab jiggling with each movement.

Villagers drummed nearby. Those below knelt, murmuring gratitude to the Celestial Deity. Not one thanked the two who’d slain the Wraiths and dog pack.

"Their minds match those rabid dogs outside," Fro muttered.

"Aelina, this is the Celestial Deity the Nofia worship," he whispered. "I’ve heard they sent thousands of half-naked villagers charging at the Silver General’s lines—just to waste our Elf archers’ golden arrows."

"Fools. Sacrificing thousands for arrows? A slaughter."

"Aelina, where’s your promised reversal?" Fro fumed. "Let this lying pig enjoy their worship? No one thanks us. They praise the Elder’s ‘wisdom’."

Indeed, tears glistened in villagers’ eyes after the prayers. They turned to laud the Elder.

"We’d never have survived without him," a woman sobbed, wiping her eyes. "Bella’s sister doomed us all."

"The Elder’s mercy lets Bella stay," her timid husband added, eyes red. "His wisdom saved us—executing her sister before she destroyed us."

"I knew he’d handle the mad dogs!"

"Those outsiders meant harm. Only our Elder outmaneuvered them."

"Celestial Deity, thank you for sending your guardian!"

"All thanks to the Elder!"

Their whispers reached Aelina. She snorted. "Bring our friend from the cart," she ordered Fro.

She strode past villagers prostrate on the ground, ignoring the Elder’s jiggling fat as he preened on stage. Mounting the platform, she faced the mustachioed man. He turned, desire brightening his beady eyes. *Has the Deity answered my prayers?*

"Miss Aelina," he purred, "I’ll be finished shortly. Wait just a—"

"Mustache," she smiled down at him, "I have an announcement. Prepare to be roasted."

"What?" The Elder blinked.

"For you." Aelina tossed him a silvery object. He caught it instinctively—then his entire body convulsed. Rolling his eyes, he collapsed. His heavy frame shook the platform. A near-dead lightning grenade tumbled from his robes.

"She murdered the Elder!"

"Help him! Someone help!"

"Witch! What sorcery is this?"

"Kill her!"

Aelina snatched the Ancestral Staff. Facing the furious crowd—most still stunned—she slammed the staff down. "SILENCE!"

Her commanding voice froze the square. "Your Elder traded with a Hellspawn demon!" She didn’t pause for shock, thrusting forward aggressively. "The dog pack was his gift! The demon gave his son a whistle to control them. He planned to sacrifice your souls!"

Villagers roared, fingers jabbing at her.

"Impossible!"

"Lies!"

"You whore!" A woman surged up, pointing. "Big-chested women are sluts—just like Bella’s sister!"

"Fro! Bring his son’s corpse!" A black-armored Knight hauled a rotting male body onto the stage, face exposed.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. A slight, timid man stared. "That’s... the Elder’s son?"

"He vanished weeks ago!"

"The Elder said he died fighting the Ghost Woman!"

"He sacrificed him!" Aelina spread her arms, grief etched on her face—every gesture calibrated for maximum effect. "I know demoncraft. Bella’s sister had a rare pure soul. He defiled her, twisted her death into a Wraith. His son gathered the bloodthirsty dogs. He barred escape to harvest you all for the ritual!"

"Lies!"

Aelina whirled, stabbing a finger at the accuser. "Then why did he attack the Demon Hunter sent to save you? This ‘celebration’ marks the demon’s birth! Your flesh and souls will feed it unless we stop the ritual now!"

The crowd faltered, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Lies!" The Elder struggled upright on the platform. "Kill these treacherous outsiders!"

His family had ruled the village for centuries. As the Celestial Deity’s voice for over a decade, his authority ran deep.

Villagers abandoned reason. They snatched wooden clubs, pitchforks. Fro dropped the corpse, drawing his shortsword. He waved it fiercely, forcing the front ranks back. They shoved each other forward. Fro kicked one man’s gut, raising his blade. "Step closer, and I cut you down!"

Aelina pressed her crossbow to the Elder’s head. His face purpled with rage. "Filthy witch!"

"I have proof!" She held up a wolf-head badge taken from the Demon Hunter. "This trembles near evil. My visions revealed his cellar—the ritual site. Innocent villagers, come see for yourselves before killing us!" She kicked the Elder’s head. "Agree?"

The Elder calculated. His cellar held nothing. Better to let them search than die now. "Fine! But release me first."

"You have no leverage." Aelina ground her heel onto his fat hand. "Filthy ape."

"AHHH!" As pain seared through him, the Elder glared up at Aelina’s contemptuous face—and his groin stiffened abruptly.