-Arc 1-

  Chapter 14

  “From the Darkness, It Came”

  *?*?*?*

  Eris slowly woke up again. Her mind was hazy. Disregarding the experience of last night, she had been in a cycle of waking up and passing out. Every time she rose, she felt extremely dizzy and lightheaded. But her limbs, especially her leg, were like they were weighed down by chains.

  A figure sat at her bedside amongst the soft light coming through the window.

  Eris: “P-Petra…”

  Petra: “Oh, Eris! You actually recognized me this time…”

  Eris: “Uhh…”

  As she moved, she felt a throbbing in her head. Despite the pain and heaviness, she sat up anyway.

  Petra: “Don't force yourself to get up if you don't want to. If you need to rest, you should.”

  Staring through Petra’s concerned eyes, Eris suddenly tore at the blanket, ripping it off her body and staring at her leg.

  It was as if nothing ever happened. It was still attached, and there was not even a scar. No change in complexion or redness.

  She rubbed her hand over her own skin. Her leg was still sore, and touching it sent the memories of the debilitating agony of its loss through her body.

  Eris: “My… leg…”

  Petra: “Your leg? Eris, did you have a terrible dream?”

  Maybe it was a dream. It felt like one. The memory of that red room was nothing but haze. Only small bits came to her, and they felt like reading a story of someone else’s experience through ripped fragments of a page.

  Nothing about it felt real except for the pain and…

  Aqua.

  Eris suddenly shuddered, goosebumps crawling up her body as she clutched her shoulders.

  Petra: “Eris..?”

  She felt the now familiar sensation of her eyes filling up with hot, salty water. But she refused to let them rob her of clear vision any longer. Wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown, she looked over at Petra.

  Eris: “Petra…”

  Petra: “——?”

  Eris: “Petra…”

  Petra: “Eris?”

  Even Petra’s presence was a dream of itself. She did not seem like she was really there. A spectre, a figment of her imagination, a dream.

  Eris’s tentative hand reached out for Petra, seeking a warmth that may come from her as if her hair cascaded like rain.

  The memory of hair that did so sent another shiver down Eris’s spine, and as Petra’s hand reached out to meet hers, Eris suddenly pulled away.

  Petra: “Eris, if you’re not feeling well, you should…”

  Her voice was drowned out by a fog.

  Was Petra there, too? In that red room?

  Behind Aqua, behind Caelia, in the darkness, watching her? Demanding questions that she could not answer?

  Did she watch her writhe and sob and beg in agony for death, with a cold face like Caelia’s with no remorse?

  Was Petra the one to bring her into the room? Was she the one who suggested they torture her? Was she one who believed Eris was holding information that she did not?

  Eris could tell her own face was changing, because Petra’s expression turned from one of concern to one of confusion.

  Petra: “Eris, are you okay? Why are you looking at me like that…?”

  Eris: “Petra…”

  Petra: “Yes, it’s me, Petra…”

  Eris: “Aqua… Caelia…”

  Petra: “Hm?”

  Petra’s face did not change, and she didn't seem to react to their names like she was trying to hide anything associated with them.

  But Aqua hid her intentions well, too.

  With her body flushed cold, Eris pulled at the sheets as she crawled to the opposite side of the bed.

  Petra: “Eris, I don't know what’s wrong, but you can tell me anything, you know?”

  Her mind flashed, those words reminding her of the image of a blue haired, red eyed girl, and she shuddered. Nausea built in her stomach, and she had to take deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

  Petra suddenly stood up, making her way over to Eris’s side of the bed. Eris’s crimson eyes tracked her movements cautiously.

  As she felt Petra’s warm arms wrap around her, Eris’s heart still did not calm. The nausea did not fade. The ice in her veins did not thaw.

  Feeling Petra pressed against her, feeling her body heat mingle with her own, the rise and fall of her chest, her tight grip…

  It wasn't the same. It was completely different. It couldn't be the same. It will never be the same. How could it be the same? It shouldn't be the same. It can't be the same.

  Eris placed her hands on Petra’s shoulders, pushing her away.

  Petra: “Eris?”

  Eris: “I——”

  Petra’s emerald eyes shimmered, flickering with that horrible, familiar look.

  Seraphine looked at her the same way. She had done it again. How terrible was she?

  Petra: “I get it… I’m not sure what happened, but you want some space right now, right?”

  Eris: “——”

  Her throat tightened, suppressing a gag. As she clasped her hand over her mouth, the door swung open.

  —*—

  Seraphine clutched her knees, panting as sweat ran down her forehead.

  Petra: “Seraphine? What happened? Are you alright?”

  The red-headed maid nodded slowly, still gasping for air. The sounds of her gasping, hacking for air, sent another wave of trauma through Eris.

  The feeling of being suffocated, having all air disappear from her— suddenly the walls of her room seemed to shrink. It felt a thousand degrees hotter, and her heart raced like it was about to burst.

  Placing her hand over her chest as breathlessness arose from nothing, now Eris was panting too.

  Petra: “Eris, you too?!”

  Seraphine: “Eris… you’re… awake…”

  Petra: “Breathe, both of you!”

  Seraphine: “Aíma… she said…”

  Waving her hand as if to push more air into her lungs, Seraphine slowly regained her breath.

  Seraphine: “she said she smelled a demon-beast…”

  Eris: “Demon… beast…”

  Petra: “Aíma did? Where? Why would it come here?”

  Seraphine: “I don't know, but she said it was coming towards the manor.”

  Petra: “That sounds terrible, but… why are you so out of breath?”

  Seraphine: “I ran all the way here…”

  The staff rooms were in the furthest corner of the manor, up many flights of stairs, so it made sense to Eris at least as she regained her own sense.

  Petra: “You should rest! Anyway, where is Caelia? Usually, Eris would…”

  Eris: “——”

  Receiving Petra’s soft glance, Eris bit her lip. From the sounds of it, ‘Eris’ seems to be expected to defend the manor in a situation like this. Even if Eris has technically done battle with a demon-beast herself, it was not as if she single handedly defeated it. On the contrary, she did little against it and begged Rory to kill it in her stead. Of course, Petra knows that the circumstances were different than if ‘Eris’ was still here.

  Seraphine: “Caelia is with Aíma, they’re getting ready to fight it if it comes.”

  Eris: “Aíma is?”

  Eris understood Caelia’s fighting strength, what with her wind magic and all. But Aíma, she seemed to be defenseless and runeless like herself. How could she defend the manor from a demon-beast?

  Petra: “Either way, we should be down there if they need help.”

  Seraphine nodded at Petra’s statement, and the two of them looked at Eris. In truth, leaving this room felt like it would smite her down right now out of anxiety and paranoia. Her skin still felt cold and, though it was shameful, she honestly wanted to just leave the demon-beasts to the other maids.

  Caelia and Aqua, especially——

  Eris: “No…”

  She scolded herself.

  Seraphine: “Eris?”

  Eris: “No, no… I didn't mean to say that to you guys…”

  Petra: “If you’re still feeling unwell, you should rest.”

  Eris: “I was having unpleasant thoughts… Really, I’ll come down to help as well.”

  Petra: “If you say so, Eris.”

  Eris was stricken with the memory of her first day, as both Petra and Seraphine took each of her hands, and guided her out of the room.

  Thinking back on it, she envied herself. That Eris was innocent and uncorrupted. On her first day, before Seraphine’s tears, she never worried about how the others felt. She didn't know what they were thinking. She didn't scold herself and pull at her own hair until her eyes watered. She didn't stare at her reflection in the mirror. She hadn't gotten close with a blue haired maid, only to be betrayed by her gentle touch. She hadn't made a fool of herself, acting cowardly and pathetic, grovelling in incoherence as Petra sat by her bedside.

  Sobbing, gasping, vomiting, bleeding, begging. That was all she could think of herself doing right now. She was a pathetic encumbrance.

  Even now, all she could think of seeing Petra and Seraphine were possible actors in her own suffering. Was she being stupid, or was she really a victim of everyone’s sadism? Why was she a victim in the first place? She couldn't bear the thought of Aqua’s face, nor the way Caelia glared at her. She couldn't bear Seraphine’s empty longing, or Petra’s placating fake smiles. Mirra’s blind loyalty, Aíma’s blunt apathy. Carlos’s schemes and poorly used words, which seemed to be only designed to drive her into spirals. Like this one.

  She noticed her hands gripping theirs’. They didn't react to it, but she stopped anyway. She did not want them to think she was relying on their strength like she did Aqua.

  Reaching the first floor, and eventually exiting from the main door to the recently repaired front lawn, the other maids were already gathered around.

  Immediately, she was hit with the strong, familiar, rotting scent of a demon-beast.

  Aíma was standing on the main stone path beside Caelia. Combined with the sight of Aqua, who was standing not far behind, Eris felt a rush to her head as a mix of fear, anger, and sickness returned to her all at once.

  It was cumbersome to be affected by their mere visage like this, but even the thought of Aqua’s blue hair, or the gust of wind on her skin brought those recent, hazy memories back to her.

  Seraphine: “I don't know how useful we’ll all be here. I don't think Caelia will have too much difficulty dealing with it.”

  Petra: “But it’s good to be here in support, isn't it? Seraphine, you can support with fire or ice if needed. Aqua can heal anyone injured. Maybe Mirra can change its mind?”

  The nebulous eyes of Mirra glanced over, before immediately being cast to the floor. The difference in Mirra’s confidence between her interactions with Eris and the others was drastic. Perhaps there was a reason Mirra seemed to be more open to Eris than Petra? None came to mind.

  Seraphine: “Is Aíma really going to fight?”

  Petra: “It’s not that she's incapable in her state, but I don't think she needs to sacrifice her well-being unless necessary. Not to mention, without Carlos here, I wonder about her effectiveness. Maybe she’s only prepared as a reserve?”

  Eris: “——”

  Eris was not familiar with how Aíma could be useful in the fight. Magic as a subject was something she was not well versed in, so refraining from battlefield analytics was a given. Regardless, she wanted to avoid mingling with the others as much as possible.

  Caelia took a step in front of the petite Aíma, who was standing silently, her longer skirt blowing in the increasing winds.

  Caelia: “Aíma, how much longer?”

  Aíma: “I can't pinpoint it with exact accuracy, but I would say we only have a minute or so.”

  Eris: “She can smell it too…”

  Seraphine had said Aíma had smelt the beast, but it was not until now that the fact had registered. Reaching up to rub her nose, the pungent scent was indeed growing stronger as the minutes passed, she wondered why only a select few were conscious of the smell.

  Rory, Aíma, and herself. Perhaps it was random, though it seemed to be a rare trait if the other maids could not. At least it seemed they could not, as nobody else mentioned it.

  The sound of thunder began to ring out throughout the world, though the skies were clear. The wind was steadily flowing, but the trees began to rustle as if a gust stronger than the usual was blowing through.

  By now, the smell was growing unbearable. A horrible, pungent smell that any victim of it would be forced to scrunch the skin of their nose and scowl.

  The sound of snapping trees and the vibrations of something massive approached, and the maids held their breath.

  A massive white figure, much larger than the house-sized beast Eris had recently dueled, crashed through the treeline. The iron bar fence which lined the property of the manor was twisted apart like a twig, as the massive demon-beast invaded.

  It was undoubtedly the same one. She couldn't explain it, but she knew looking into its glassy eyes that this horse-like demon-beast, at least a third larger than it was a few days ago, was the same one.

  Horns like swords atop its massive, elongated, snow-white head. Muscles wrapped around every part of its body. Its black nostrils flaring with hot breaths. Towering above everything, almost as tall as the manor, its mane fluttering in the wind.

  —*—

  Immediately, Caelia charged in. Slashing her hand, the air warped around a blade of wind. It collided with the beast’s chest, the white fur blooming into flowers of crimson, splattering across the green grass.

  The beast roared, rearing on its hind legs before slamming down onto the surface. Like an earthquake, the world shuddered from the force. The maids were threatened with losing their footing, and there was the sound of shattering from inside the manor.

  Caelia seemed to be unaffected. Her long legs carried her across the swaths of grass and paths that made up the manor’s front lawn. The enraged beast was compelled to follow. The large gash across its chest was already much smaller than the original wound. Indeed, it seemed to be sealing itself rather quickly.

  Eris: “It can heal itself?!”

  She had not noticed this pattern before. When Rory hit it with his own magic, it collapsed and did not get up. Now, not only was Caelia’s magic, which already was delivering much stronger blows, barely affecting the demon-beast, it also was healing much faster.

  Caelia: “If you will not be killed by a simple blow, I suppose I’ll have to decapitate you.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Laying out her intention clearly, Caelia propelled herself off the ground followed by a blast of air towards the ground. The combined effort of her physical and magical strength sent her upwards.

  The soles of her shoes, still her inside loafers, made contact with the roof of a gazebo. Even though much larger than the standard gazebo, it was still dwarfed by the demon-beast.

  Of course, the horse-shaped demon-beast was not impressed by Caelia's maneuvering, and continued its frenzied charge.

  Again reaching out her arm, Caelia pointed her ring and index fingers towards the encroaching beast. Her silver rune, stimulated, suddenly began to glow.

  As a powerful gust of wind hit her, backblast from her magic being fired, another blade of wind struck the demon-beast in the muscular throat.

  Her intention of course was to cleave entirely through its neck. However, for whatever reason, despite the honing of strength of this specific attack, it failed to complete its task.

  Caelia: “——It didn't get through…?”

  The demon-beast was not unaffected, even though she failed to decapitate it. From the gaping wound in its throat, blood poured out like a waterfall. Literally in the quantity of a natural water feature, the perfectly manicured lawn was now painted in deep crimson.

  However, despite the damage it had insured, which would be lethal to any other creature, the beast did not die. Making an agonized, wet scream from its torn vocal chords, it belted out its dissatisfaction.

  As quickly as the other wounds healed, the gaping incision across its neck began to reseal. The great quantities of blood ceased to flow from the wound, and soon, not even a scar betrayed the fact a lethal wound was once there.

  Caelia: “I’m not an expert on demon-beasts, however…”

  Speaking to herself on the roof of the gazebo, the silver haired maid was forced to wonder.

  Aqua: “That ain’t like normal demon-beast regenation… that looks like healin’ magic…”

  The only user of a blue rune in many miles would of course be familiar with the usages of healing magic. A wielder of a blue rune had the domain of water and healing, which were hand-and-hand in the nature of living beings.

  While demon-beasts often were blessed with some kind of innate magic, rarely, if ever, was it that of water magic. Most commonly, it was fire, wind, or even red magic, which was the domain of physical enhancements of the body.

  As Caelia began her question, and Aqua unknowingly answered, the beast slammed its giant head into the gazebo under Caelia's feet. Immediately, the structure splintered into fractures of wood and marble. In the cloud of debris, Caelia vanished.

  Aqua: “Cae?!”

  Having to be physically restrained from throwing herself into battle by the surprisingly strong Aíma, Aqua gained sense and refrained from running in front of the demon-beast.

  It was hard to say Eris felt bad for Caelia, but certainly, despite what she had done, Eris wished for the death of nobody but herself.

  Aqua: “If I don't run in there, who’s gonna stop it from killin’ Cae?!”

  Seraphine’s hand disconnected from Eris’s as she ran down the short flight of steps from the porch to Aqua’s side.

  Seraphine: “Don't be silly! You can't use any combat spells… not without any water around!”

  The conversation was made with yells over the obnoxious sounds of the demon-beast roaring.

  Aqua: “Gimme buckets then! Or, we could send…”

  Aqua's crimson eyes turned to Aíma, who reciprocated with an emotionless stare. The tiny demon seemed indifferent to the suggestion of her being put on the frontlines being made.

  Seraphine: “That won't work! Master Carlos would need to be here, and…”

  Aqua: “Carlos be damned! Aíma—!”

  Aíma: “Unfortunately, with my current abilities, my attacks would not be sufficient.”

  Both of the maids, of opposing hair and eye color, stare at the demon maid. There was little time to waste on deliberating, however. So Seraphine suddenly detached herself from Aqua’s side, rushing towards the demon-beast which was thrashing about the rubble of the gazebo in search of Caelia.

  Aqua: “Sera?! What are you doing?!”

  Though exhausted, having ran across the entire manor twice now, the red haired maid used her aching legs to carry herself closer to the enormous monster.

  Out of all the maids and their current fighting strength, aside from Eris who was not currently capable, and Aíma without the permission of Carlos, Seraphine was the only one capable of manifesting combat power in any situation.

  Most runes were a fickle thing. Water magic could only manipulate the water already present. Green runes were often supplied with practically infinite ammunition in the form of plants, however Petra refused to wield such deadly power.

  Even Seraphine’s orange rune, with the domain of temperature and fire, was situational. Without water, ice could not freeze. Without fuel, fire could not burn. However, temperature is not just fire and ice.

  Temperature, by itself, was in everything. Ice was not cold itself, but the product of it.

  She could wield the power of heat, even if it was exhausting.

  So——

  Seraphine: “Does it burn?!”

  Raising her hands outward towards the beast, the air began to shiver with boiling heat.

  The demon-beast squealed as an area of its flesh and thin fur were brought to a deadly temperature. Its monstrous, jet black skin under its white coat began to bubble and fry, and soon the smell of burning flesh permeated through the air.

  The beast recoiled suddenly, snapping at the burning air like it was a tangible thing. It continued to back away from the heat, though it could not escape it. The source was its flesh itself.

  Despite the terrifying nature of such an attack, it was limited by its area of effect.

  Raising the temperature in a small area by a few degrees, for example the greenhouse or lowering it in the case of the freezer, was not very extraneous. But even in a small area, raising the temperature to such an extreme, especially so suddenly, was a very mana exhausting task.

  The heat had seared the beast’s flesh deep, even in a comparatively small area. On a human, their entire body would be melted. But the demon-beast was many times the size of a human, and only a fraction of it was burned.

  Seraphine: “I wouldn’t want that to be me…”

  Though a wielder of such magic, it did not mean Seraphine was immune to the effects of temperature. If it was sudden and she did not have the time to react or notice, something hot could touch her skin and burn her. Of course, Aqua could heal those minor wounds, but they were still painful.

  The beast, its wound smoking and steaming and bubbling, reared up again, slamming down with even more violent force than the previous time. The debris shifted, and with a gust of wind, the collapsed gazebo was again blown apart. This time not caused by the beast, but the person underneath it.

  Groaning as she rose, covered in soot, dirt and debris, Caelia’s eyes reached Seraphine, who was now facing down the enraged demon-beast.

  She had not witnessed what Seraphine did exactly to avert its attention, but considering her rune, and the burning smell in the air, she only imagined it was something to do with heat.

  Despite Seraphine saving her life, Caelia did not have time to express any gratitude.

  This was because the beast was now charging directly at the red-haired girl, whose running speed even fully rested was subpar.

  Seraphine was not so brave as to face down a gargantuan horned demon-beast, and she knew her exhausted magic would be insufficient for self defense, so her only option was now to run.

  Putting her trust in Caelia, she closed her eyes and let her aching legs carry her as fast as they could.

  Mirra: “I was trying to get the demon-beast to back off, but I’m no good, as expected. —No, it isn't just that…”

  The remaining maids still yet to join the battlefield reluctantly turned their attention to the violent haired maid, whose eyes were like a nebula.

  Mirra: “It’s like there's some kind of interference… like it’s already being affected by violet magic…”

  —Caelia again raised two fingers, releasing a blow of razor sharp wind that collided with the beast.

  Severing leg meat down to the bone, more blood coated the lawn. Its pink muscles throbbed, now exposed from the gaping wound, with pale bone at the center of it all. Stumbling, the massive creature was robbed of solid legs to stand on, and came tumbling down.

  Witnessing a blade of wind claw away at a leg, Eris almost stumbled, her mind taking her back to the previous night.

  Seraphine was relieved of pressure, the demon-beast no longer poised to crush her beneath its massive hooves.

  After regaining its footing, the demon-beast rose again, its cleaved limb quickly sealing. Muscles rebinding, flesh resealing, skin mending. It was almost as grotesque as watching it be torn apart.

  Eris: “If it could regenerate itself so quickly, why didn't it in the forest?”

  Rory had issued a similar— in fact— weaker blow to the demon-beast, and it seemed to die on the spot. It fell with a crash and bled in the mud, its wound refusing to seal.

  It did look older now, and much bigger. Perhaps gaining the ability to heal rapidly came with age? It seemed demon-beasts aged swiftly, considering the large increase in size in such a limited amount of time.

  Its glassy eyes surrounded by tense muscles dilated, its black nose flared and steamed with breath. Rage across the face of this wild beast, it locked eyes with the one who had nearly severed its leg, and previously, its head.

  Caelia: “Demon-beasts are attracted to the strongest opponent, after all.”

  Brushing off her skirt of debris with a gentle, focused blast of air, Caelia readied herself in place.

  Of course, she was not foolish. She was not planning on standing idle and letting the beast charge her, and withstand its blow like a southern warrior. Her plan was simple. If she could not cut deep enough with her magic, she would only have to aim for a shallow point which would deprive it of combat power.

  The eyes were a vulnerable thing. In the room of records, where blood had flowed from Eris’s sliced forehead into her eyes, she immediately became many times more manic.

  Caelia hoped this logic would apply here.

  To aim for the eyes, she would have to face the monster head on.

  The beast’s enormous legs carried its weighty body across the ground. Its speed was unpredictably rapid, even compared to its previous speed.

  She would not have time to properly aim like she had predicted. With a quick slash, wind struck the demon-beast in the skull from its eye, across its nose to the other eye. it seemed to be completely blinded, as gray liquid poured from its sockets, mixed with pink blood. Its skull was exposed from the deep gash between the eyes, and blood was now flying off the still-charging demon-beast like crimson rain.

  Yes, it was still charging. At unprecedented speeds, it would be difficult to dodge. However, Caelia’s powerful legs would not let her sit idly.

  Seraphine: “Caelia!”

  For some reason, Seraphine had gotten a boost of adrenaline when she noticed the beast had turned its attention to Caelia. Understanding immediately that the silver rune planned to do something reckless, she would not let herself, the only one here who could do anything against the beast aside from Caelia, do nothing.

  Seraphine: “Get away from us!”

  She had changed her course, cutting in front of the beast with the last of her energy as it charged, hoping to burn away the last of its strength, so it could not impale Caelia. Extending her hands, she poured her entire soul into raising the temperature of the beast’s face, hoping to melt its brain.

  However—

  A sharp, angled horn like a sword, pierced through Seraphine’s stomach. Raised to a boiling temperature, the horn sliced through like a hot knife. The world blackened around her, focusing on that point of contact. The feeling of her insides opening up to the world, seeing light they never should, while being fried like lunch meat, clouded over her as a sense of freezing heat— no, searing cold, reached her every nerve.

  —*—

  Aqua: “Sera!”

  Eris: “Seraphine…”

  Whether Seraphine was alive or dead was balanced solely on Aqua’s palms.

  However, Aíma again placed a strong grip on Aqua’s arm, restraining her from diving recklessly into danger.

  At the same time, Caelia, as if showing empathy, charged in herself, slashing her mind magic about rabidly at the beast. It of course howled in pain, but did not lose focus. Its eyes were back, no longer sliced apart, and with refound vision, it was aiming directly for Caelia.

  She pushed the entirety of her energy into her legs, launching herself upwards. However, the beast, no longer blinded, swiped its head across the air.

  Though a wielder of the silver rune, with the domain of wind and air, Caelia could not fly— nor control herself while midair. If she commanded a particularly strong gust of wind, she could blow herself aside to dodge an attack. However, that would require her to see it coming.

  The white-coated demon-beast slashed its head, and while merely missing the violent points of its horns, Caelia was struck by its sturdy skull, sending her flying before she could react.

  Even a wind mage was not immune to having the wind knocked out of her, and especially not immune to falling unconscious as she hit the ground with extreme force.

  Eris had witnessed Caelia's failure, as well as Seraphine’s near-death, their bodies limp on the ground. Seraphine’s blood dripped off the demon-beast’s searing horn as it slowly paced, its wounds slowly healing.

  Aqua: “Let go o’ me, demon! I need ta save them!”

  Aíma: “I agree that you are the only one capable of saving the two, but we can't afford to lose our only healer.”

  Aíma’s logical statement did not relax Aqua, who was prying at Aíma’s strong grip. A tiny girl, far too strong for her size.

  Aqua: “Then do something! Any of ya!”

  None of the maids made an effort to move. Petra would not use her magic for violence again. Aqua’s magic was only useful for healing unless provided ammunition, and still then was quite lacking in combat power. Mirra was inept at using her own rune, combined with the ‘interference’ she spoke of. Aíma was an enigma. Some of them had been alluding to her holding some kind of strength, but she was yet to reveal it. Eris was frozen in place. A coward who could not protect anyone anyway.

  Though they were all stunned, distraught, and terrified, especially at the assumed death of Seraphine and Caelia, they did not move.

  The demon-beast, having fully recovered from the blow across the face given by Caelia, had placed its focus on the group of maids by the entrance of the manor.

  It kicked at the ground with its hooves, as if to intimidate.

  But even the demon-beast, driven only by anger and instincts, was taken off-guard as Aqua finally freed herself from Aíma’s grip, bolting from her spot like two north ends of a magnet. She was now running with everything she had towards Seraphine’s discarded self on the ground.

  Disregarding any self-preservation, the blue haired maid arrived at the side of Seraphine, with a literal hole through her stomach.

  The demon-beast similarly left its spot in an instant, barrelling towards Aqua, crouched over Seraphine.

  Aqua: “I’d do anythang for my family. All the maids are my family. I don't really care if it’s the stupidest or the smartest thang. I’d do anything to keep them safe, y’know?”

  Eris: “Aqua, you’re really doing something stupid.”

  Even despite the horrific memories of the red room— memories of only the previous night— the visceral, gripping feeling of grief. The feeling of utter betrayal that yanked at her heart and beckoned tears. The phantom pain, the nausea, the sadness, the hopelessness, the dread, the fear, the desire for death.

  Despite it all, she still felt mixed emotions like fear, pride, and horror for Aqua recklessly throwing her life away to save those like family to her. More so, she felt rage at herself for being frozen in place, unable to do the same, or prevent any of these horrible things in the first place.

  Eris had still chosen her loyalty. That she wanted to help others feel as safe, and as warm as Aqua did that evening on the floor outside the dining hall. Even if it was all ripped away from her. She was betraying that goal by being unable to do anything at all.

  Seeing those horns, like swords, atop an enraged charging beast aimed directly at Aqua who despite everything still held on to an unwelcome place in Eris's heart— Eris could not bear it.

  Not only could she not bear that, she couldn't bear anything.

  She could not bear being unable to do anything. She could not bear being helpless. She could not bear her own mediocrity. She could not bear her own patheticness. She could not bear herself.

  It was not just that.

  It was as if everything in the entire world had come crashing down on her. Not in its literal memory, but the feeling of it all. The ripped fragments of the page being reduced to the keywords.

  Everything, everything negative she had ever experienced in the past week of being alive, collapsed on her at once.

  She was suddenly, uncontrollably, overcome with looping feelings.

  Anxiety. Dread. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Rage. Disgust. Agony. Helplessness. Confusion. Hatred. Betrayal. Doubt. Envy. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Desperation. Exhaustion. Despair. Isolation.

  Anxiety. Dread. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Rage. Disgust. Agony. Helplessness. Confusion. Hatred. Betrayal. Doubt. Envy. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Desperation. Exhaustion. Despair. Isolation.

  Anxiety. Dread. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Rage. Disgust. Agony. Helplessness. Confusion. Hatred. Betrayal. Doubt. Envy. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Desperation. Exhaustion. Despair. Isolation.

  They would not stop, and they overtook every fragment of her mind. Even her hearing, her vision, her scent, her taste, her touch, were overcome with these things. Soon she was tasting her helplessness. Hearing her rage. Smelling her desperation. It was all so much. It was all so unnatural. This was not normal. Why was her mind breaking like this? Why now, when she needed to help the most? She was most of all, useless.

  Anxiety. Dread. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Rage. Disgust. Agony. Helplessness. Confusion. Hatred. Betrayal. Doubt. Envy. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Desperation. Exhaustion. Despair. Isolation. Uselessness.

  After a brief period of time where only those things existed in a void—

  ???: “Eris? Eris?”

  Eris: “Mhhgh.”

  ???: “Eris! Oh, you’re awake… again… you really scared me, but we're all really… proud… of you?”

  She felt a murky sensation, like lying in a swamp and suddenly being embraced by warm water. An unrecognizable voice spoke to her.

  The Maids of

  Count Schwartzhardt's Manor

  In limbo between the moment that horns of the monster were approaching and when they would impale the blue-haired maid, time seemed to slow. Even for those who had little interest in whether the life of Aqua continued or not, such as the petite demon maid.

  Even as time felt as if it was slowing, one single thing moved, unaffected by the dilation of time.

  A single stone, small enough to be stuck between the ridges on the bottom of a shoe, was suddenly propelled at an impossible speed. Ripping through both space and frozen time, the atmosphere collapsed around it, giving it a brief cone of air as it tore through the sound barrier.

  The stone, making a booming sound as it instantly gained speed, collided with the silky white fur of the demon-beast’s shoulder. The devastation left behind was a large crimson crater, funnelling down into a hole which shrunk to the size of the rock itself. The hole bored its way entirely through the demon-beast, the treeline visible through the tunnel in its flesh.

  The tunnel, created by the tiny rock, was carved instantaneously, and the demon-beast did not even notice until it was already bearing a cavern in its enormous body. Not to mention, the enormous destruction left behind on the beast's surface by the impact of the rock.

  It barely made a sound as its muscular body crashed into the dirt, sending brown clouds curling into the air. It writhed around, trying to regain its footing.

  The perpetrator of the sudden and extreme act was a slender figure, framed by long white hair and crimson eyes, dressed in a frilly black and white maid uniform. Her face was blank, which in the past few days was uncommon. Anymore, this figure made a variety of distressed expressions almost constantly.

  The first to witness it was Petra, who was standing beside the white haired figure.

  Petra: “E-Eris?!”

  By the time her words were completed, Eris had already vanished from the spot next to Petra, leaving behind nothing but a gust of wind.

  The white haired maid was already standing under the demon-beast, which was standing on its wobbling legs. Its wounds were healing, but their severity made them regenerate much less effectively.

  Eris extended a leg of her own. As if lightning crashing in the sky, it was only visible for a second. Even the impact sounded like thunder, the sheer force of it shaking the earth. With that power, the entire organic structure, constructed with sturdy bone, welded by pink fibers, supplied by crimson blood and wrapped by black skin and white fur, was ripped violently from its base at the shoulder. The leg, about the size of a small tree, was launched. Flying boundlessly across the cool air, it was finally halted as it slammed into the wall of the manor. Debris crumbled down, as the beast’s blood oozed out of it.

  Again, the demon-beast screamed. Petra and the other maids desperately clutched their ears to protect themselves from the dangerously shrill noise, unable to do anything else in their shock.

  The beast collapsed, bereft of a vital limb, it struggled to stand. The place where its leg was once attached slowly began to reseal, but the leg itself would not begin to reform.

  The lack of regrowth, however, was of little concern to the beast at this point, as its mind was completely governed by the desperate, frantic desire for only one thing; survival.

  It snapped its huge mouth, kicked its remaining legs, roaring and screaming, flailing about as it tried to understand how to get up with only three legs, failing to do as adrenaline clouded its rational thinking.

  None of its protests made any amount of difference, however. The tip of Eris’s inside shoe was launched into the underside of the demon-beasts abdomen, and immediately, blood violently spurted out from its flaring nose and snapping mouth.

  Organs, bones, things vital for life and survival, were destroyed in an instant by an impossibly powerful blow. As Eris's foot was pulled back, the broken skin poured open, and the ruptured contents of its core spilled out onto the manicured lawn.

  The beast had nothing to scream with now, its lungs nothing more than crumpled meat. Yet, it tried. As a horrible wheezing pulled at the air, crimson blood was launched towards Eris’s direction. But she had already moved aside. With slender arms betraying impossible strength, the demon-beast, a monstrous impression of a horse, was lifted and thrown with ease.

  Making distance across the sky, blood and remnants of its insides raining down, the tremendous monster made a collision with the manor. In a similar fashion to its severed leg on a much larger scale, the beast seemed to deflate as it crashed into the solid wall. The wall, too, formerly pristine and beautiful, was turned to nothing but debris as the entire wall collapsed onto the white, bloody figure.

  The fatal wounds would not heal, and volumes of slick red exploded outwards from its many wounds in rhythmic spurts, as the beast let out a final, dying breath.

  As the demon-beast finally perished, the blood soaked maid with crimson eyes and beautiful white hair collapsed onto the crimson grass.

  To her, there was only anxiety. Dread. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Rage. Disgust. Agony. Helplessness. Confusion. Hatred. Betrayal. Doubt. Envy. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Desperation. Exhaustion. Despair. Isolation. Uselessness.

  Anxiety. Dread. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Rage. Disgust. Agony. Helplessness. Confusion. Hatred. Betrayal. Doubt. Envy. Shame. Regret. Disgust. Desperation. Exhaustion. Despair. Isolation. Uselessness.

  There was a brief period of time where only those things existed in a void.