The air shifted.
It wasn’t something loud. There was no explosion, no grand entrance—just a faint, almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere.
But for Shirone and Stellan, lying broken on the ground, it felt as if the very fabric of reality had tilted.
And then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Unhurried.
From the darkness of the alley, a figure emerged—a man.
He was tall, his frame wrapped in a dark coat that swayed slightly as he walked.
His black hair was tousled, but his eyes—
They were emerald green.
A deep, piercing green that gleamed under the faint light, holding a weight that sent shivers down the spine.
There was no emotion in them, no trace of surprise or concern as they landed on the scene before him.
Not at Shirone, barely clinging to consciousness.
Not at Stellan, who was struggling to move.
But at the woman.
Or rather, the thing that had taken the shape of one.
The demon’s golden eyes narrowed.
For the first time, a flicker of caution crossed her face.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice losing its playfulness, turning sharp.
The man didn’t answer.
He simply moved.
—And in the next instant, the woman’s body shattered.
No—she didn’t break.
She morphed.
Her human form peeled away like fragile paper, revealing the truth beneath.
A towering, grotesque figure took her place.
Her once flawless skin darkened to obsidian, lines of pulsating red cracking through it like molten veins.
Clawed fingers stretched, each as long as daggers, dripping with a sickly mist that made the stone beneath sizzle as it touched.
Her face split open, revealing rows of serrated teeth that curled up in something that vaguely resembled a grin.
A demon.
Not just any demon—an elder one.
Stellan’s breath caught in his throat.
He had fought demons before.
Killed them. But this... this thing was different.
The air became thick, suffocating. The pressure alone made the walls around them crack.
Shirone felt his vision blur.
His body screamed at him to move, to run, but there was no escaping this.
Not against something like her.
And yet—
The man with emerald eyes simply sighed.
"Pathetic," he murmured.
The demon’s red eyes burned with fury.
"Arrogant wretch—!"
And then she vanished.
No sound. No movement. She was just gone.
—Until she appeared right behind him.
Claws laced with corruption swung forward, aimed directly at his heart.
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A direct kill.
Except—
She missed.
The man tilted his head slightly—only slightly—and the claws sliced through empty air.
And before she could even react—
His hand moved.
Two fingers. That was all he used.
And with two fingers—he crushed her wrist.
A sickening CRACK rang through the air.
The demon’s eyes widened in shock.
"Impossible—"
But before she could finish, the man’s other hand blurred.
A single strike.
Precise. Absolute.
His palm struck just below her ribs—where the cracks in her darkened skin pulsed the strongest.
And in that instant—
The demon’s body froze.
Her molten veins, once burning bright, dimmed.
Her limbs trembled.
Her claws—**her power—**began to wither.
"Y-you… what did you…?"
Her voice cracked, disbelief filling her gaze.
The man withdrew his hand, stepping back as she staggered.
"It’s simple," he said, his tone still calm, almost bored.
"Your kind has a core that fuels your existence. But unlike lesser demons, your core isn’t in your heart or your head—"
His emerald eyes glowed faintly.
"It’s in your spine."
The demon’s breath hitched.
She tried to move.
But she couldn’t.
Her own body refused to obey.
It was as if her power was draining away, leaking from the exact point where he had struck.
She screamed.
A raw, inhuman wail that echoed through the ruined city.
The ground trembled beneath her, her form flickering between stability and collapse.
And then—
With a final, desperate shriek—
Her body shattered.
Dissolving into nothing.
Not a trace of her remained.
Just silence.
Heavy, thick silence.
Shirone and Stellan could only stare.
The battle—if it could even be called that—had ended before it even began.
The demon, an overwhelming force that had nearly ended them both, was gone in three moves.
Three.
And the man who had done it stood there, untouched.
Unbothered.
Like he had simply swatted a fly.
Stellan exhaled a shaky breath. His heart was still hammering in his chest.
Shirone, still weak, forced himself to speak.
"You…" His voice was hoarse. "Who… are you?"
The man glanced at him, his emerald eyes flickering with something unreadable.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Just a passerby."
And with that, he turned, walking away, Then he stopped.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, turning back to Shirone and Stellan.
"Have you seen any portals around here?"
Shirone, still reeling from the recent encounter, shook his head. "No, we haven’t."
The man’s expression shifted to one of mild disappointment.
"Is that so..." he murmured, more to himself than to them.
As he began to turn away again, Stellan, mustering his remaining strength, called out, "Wait."
The man halted, glancing over his shoulder.
"There’s someone who might know about portals," Stellan continued.
"A guy named Kael."
The man’s interest seemed piqued.
"Take me to him," he said, his tone leaving little room for argument.
Shirone and Stellan exchanged a glance, both recognizing the urgency and potential danger of the situation.
Despite their injuries, they understood that this man was not someone to be taken lightly.
"Alright," Shirone agreed, pushing himself to his feet with a wince. "We’ll take you to Kael."
The man nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Lead the way." Man said.
Shirone, wincing from his injuries, looked up at the man.
"Lead the way? We’re half-dead; we can’t walk." Shirone said.
The man raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement.
"Half-dead? You both seem pretty chatty for corpses."
Stellan managed a weak chuckle. "Well, we aim to please."
The man sighed, glancing around.
"Alright, let’s make this easier." He reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid. "Drink this; it should help."
Shirone eyed the vial suspiciously. "What is it?"
"A potion," the man replied nonchalantly. "It’ll heal your wounds temporarily. Enough to get you moving."
Shirone and Stellan exchanged a glance.
With no better options, they each took a sip from the vial.
Almost immediately, a warm sensation spread through their bodies, dulling the pain and giving them the strength to stand.
"Better?" the man asked.
Shirone nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
"Good," the man said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Now, shall we?"
As they began to walk, Stellan couldn’t help but ask, "So, do you have a name, or should we just call you ’the mysterious potion guy’?"
The man chuckled softly. "You can call me Aric."
"Well, Aric," Shirone said, "let’s hope Kael has the answers you’re looking for."
Aric’s emerald eyes gleamed. "Let’s hope indeed."