POV Eduard von Schleycwig
The last ray touched the roofs, flowing like a river across the tiles. The battlements of the fortress towers darkened. Above the black edge of the horizon, the sun burned for the last time, shining in a pink fire.
With a heavy clatter, the gates closed: first in the north, then in the south, and last in the west of the city. Life came to a halt. Merchants locked their shops, murmuring softly about prices, sales, and suppliers.
"Oh, Brother Sinka, you don't say. Salt, pepper, and bread are getting more expensive, but wine, on the contrary, is getting cheaper... The end times have come, Brother Sinka... mark my words..."
Smoke rose to the sky from chimney pipes. With the clatter of boots, a group of guards marched towards the square. There, on the uneven and slippery cobblestones, they were met by the day shift. A brief greeting from the officers, a coarse soldier's joke aimed at the shift, laughter, a stern reprimand from the superior, and soon the guards split into dozens, heading off to patrol the streets.
A regular day. A regular evening. The city was preparing for sleep.
Eduard von Schleycwig tore himself away from work and approached the wide window. He opened the shutters and stuck his head out, exposing his face to the invigorating coolness. The candle flames flickered, the draft pulling from the window to the curtain. The edges of the papers trembled. Eduard inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air. He loved the end of the day. In that brief interval between work and sleep, the Grand Master cooled his heated mind, bringing his thoughts into order.
Eduard had been working from the dark of dawn to the sunset, battling endless tasks as stubbornly as he once fought with a sword. Of course, now, instead of armor, the weight of responsibility pressed on his shoulders, and his hand was weighed down not by a sharp blade, but by a swan feather and a carved seal. But the essence hadn't changed.
Instead of a wave of orcs surging toward the formation, letters arrived, carried by endless couriers. Instead of harpies swooping down from the sky, there were ambassadors with urgent news, each one more pressing than the last. And it had to be accepted, listened to, and then, like in battle, where there was no time to think, the seal was struck on paper with a decision.
Heavy is the crown of the Great Master, oh, how heavy! And those who say that power is freedom lie. There is no greater slave than the ruler, and no greater burden than thinking for others!
Day by day, more and more affairs demanded Eduard's attention. Bad news came from all the kingdoms. The fall of Leskatia had torn apart trade routes, and famine had begun in Trindenburg, turning into riots. The Jusitciar Empire declared claims over the Shinar Isles.
Knights were evading service, following the principle: "Believe in the Supreme, but do not unsheath your sword." For the first time in many years, the Order had failed to recruit new heroes: the Goddess kept disappointed silence. It was as if she had lost faith in humanity.
The monsters had grown bolder, running amok at the border points as if they were in their foul demonic realms. Mamono were spreading everywhere. Many ancient families had been infected with vampires and other undead. Peasants hid and fed the monsters. In the churches, Dark Priestesses were gaining influence, spreading propaganda against divine rule.
Receiving daily casualty reports, Eduard winced as though from a toothache. Every kidnapped person added to the Demon Queen's subjects and spawned offspring, further increasing the already sizable army of Darkness.
The Inquisition was struggling with the wave of problems.
The Grand Master had to speed up legal proceedings for suspicious individuals, depriving them of the devil's advocates. He introduced group trials, and verdicts were carried out immediately. The lands of the Order were consumed by the flames of cleansing pyres, but even the acrid ash could not erase the sickly sweetness of the monsters' lies.
Still, Eduard's resolve had somewhat stabilized the situation. However, on a strategic scale, the initiative was still firmly held by the monsters.
'If things continue like this,' the Grand Master thought, 'In a few generations, the mamono will gain numerical superiority, and humanity will disappear.'
These thoughts filled Eduard with sadness. But he wasn't about to give up, firmly believing in the wisdom of the Supreme Goddess.
The Master raised his eyes: his gaze was fixed on an unusual falling star. It flew across the sky diagonally, growing larger. Fiery pieces fell off the star, slowly descending. Suddenly, it became as bright as day.
A distant hum turned into a deafening thunderclap. Gusts of wind hit his face, but Eduard paid them no mind, absorbed in the terrifying and majestic sight.
"A sign!" the Master exclaimed, quickly making a prayer gesture. "The Goddess has shown us a sign!"
Windows opened everywhere. Frightened people spilled into the streets, anxiously pointing at the sky with their hands. A solitary bell rang, calling to prayer, and, a second later, it was answered by the trumpeting sound of a battle horn. The Order's warriors rushed out into the courtyard, adjusting sword straps and helmet ties on the move. Among them, the sergeants and captains were barking short orders.
The horn sounded again, but from the other end of the castle. But at that moment, the light began to fade. The star vanished behind the edge of the forests and extinguished, leaving a crimson trail, a bleeding wound that split the sky in half.
The Master closed the shutters and retreated into his office, pondering what he had seen.
"This is definitely a sign," Eduard muttered thoughtfully. "But what does it mean? Does it promise victory or, on the contrary, terrible defeat and the end of the world? Only the Goddess knows the answer."
With a painful groan, the Master sank to his knees before the altar in the corner of the room and began to pray fervently.
***
POV Druella
Night soared above the kingdom of monsters. It spread its raven wings, covering the land in a violet mist.
Druella left the palace and walked leisurely along the park's path, seductively swaying her hips. Any person not healed by demonic energy would have thought the garden abandoned, but Lilim, like many monsters, enjoyed naturalness.
She despised grids, fences, barriers—empty shackles for the garden. Lilim didn't like pruners or scissors—tools of torture for the leaves and branches freely growing around the palace. Instead, Druella gave the park the chance to grow and gather strength, to the delight of the mamono and incubi.
Druella turned aside, and her boots sank into the soft green carpet.
Cicadas cracked, and in the ink-black gaps of the trees, green sparks of fireflies hovered. From the warm darkness, cheerful laughter and muffled moans echoed. Lilim smiled. Deprived of a husband, deprived of feminine happiness—until the end of this absurd war, Druella found joy in others. When she watched the passionate intertwining of bodies or heard fiery confessions, her soul filled with sincere joy. Another couple. Another love story with a happy ending...
Lilim stopped before a mighty oak with widely spread, long branches.
'It's like us, monsters,' Druella thought. 'So strong and steady. Constant, loyal. And as vulnerable to the steel of an axe.'
She felt a bit sad. Unkind news came from all the mamono kingdoms. Success in Leskathia provoked humans to retaliate. The Order's warriors made constant raids on border villages and outposts, mercilessly killing anyone who crossed their path. They didn't even spare babies. The knights roughly snatched them from their cribs and threw them into a huge bonfire—joining their mothers and fathers. Heartless humans...
No, not heartless, but deceived by the lying Supreme and the no less deceptive Order, desperately clinging to power and outdated ways! Humans are good... Even the clergymen deep inside still hold a piece of love, foolishly calling it darkness...
"Why are they so cruel?" Druella asked sadly, addressing the tree. "We open our arms to them, we come to them with hearts full of love. But they meet us with hatred and weapons in hand... When will this finally end?"
The oak did not answer. Its branches trembled under the sudden gusts of wind. The grass bent to the ground, and Druella's gaze lifted upward. High in the sky, a star appeared, burning with a fierce flame, so bright that the heavens erupted in a crimson blaze, rushing eastward.
There was a thunderous roar, the wind strengthened, and dry leaves fell from the trees, carried away by the tight currents of air. The sweet couples hiding in the park fell silent, drawn to the unusual natural phenomenon.
Fortunately, it did not last long—the star reached the horizon and dimmed, yielding to the night's darkness. The quieted garden once again filled with the sound of happy love.
"A big star—a big wish," Druella whispered. "I want the wars to end. Forever."