Demon's Virtue

Eiro stood there, staring at the other end of the hallway at the figure that was standing there. At that Undead that was holding that horrifying object. There was no doubt in Eiro's mind that this was the thing that had been standing on the Warden's desk the whole time. A dark, grim object that was turned into some kind of artistic piece.

The Demon ground his teeth and stared at the Undead while his heartrate accelerated. His eyes became bloodshot and were dyed completely in the color of this Demon's blood.

"Eiro? Eiro, is everything alright?" Nelli asked nervously, just worried for him, but the Demon didn't reply. He just raised his hand forward in front of him, running his hand through the notification warning him about his state of Fury that was caused by the 'Mark of Wrath'.

He held his index finger forward and pushed his thumb into the air with the rest of his fingers squeezed against his palm. He used his thumb as a guide to make sure that the shot was in line and then started creating a magic circle that was wrapping itself around his index finger.

Somehow, he couldn't move his legs right now, so instead, he had to resort to something like this. An accurate, strong shot from a distance. The moment that Eiro slowly created this magic circle with nothing but his thoughts instead of supporting movements, one of the first times that he actually managed to do this, the glowing white lines of the magic circle that he created disappeared as the spell was activated. A vacuum was created right in front of Eiro as a lot of air was sucked up from this space. It gathered at the tip of the Demon's finger and shot forward at a speed that was incomparable to a regular 'Air Bullet'.

An instant after it started shooting forward, the Undead had a hole in its head and slowly dropped to the ground, dropping the glass cylinder down so that it started rolling toward Eiro.

But even beyond that, the metal wall behind the Undead had a small hole in it after being hit by this powerful bullet, enhanced through Eiro's state of fury.

Slowly, the Demon started walking forward. He didn't care about hiding himself anymore. He didn't care that this air bullet broke the sound barrier and caused a loud crack that echoed through the halls of this part of the prison and numerous guards had been alerted.

Eiro simply made his was toward the glass cylinder and silently picked it up. It was heavy, heavier than a mostly empty container should be. But that made sense, considering that it seemed to be packed with magic that Eiro had never sensed before.

Both Nelli and Gondos seemed to be practically disgusted by all that this magic was, as if it was naturally repelling them. Eiro stood there and listened. He listened to the sound of the heart beating, causing the clock to tick. Eiro felt the vibrations of the heart that were pushed out to all edges of the container, through Eiro's skin into his whole body.

And he felt completely and utterly disgusted. Somehow, the sort of rage that he was feeling right now was different to what the Mark of Wrath usually did. Usually, Eiro still tried to fight it, and that fight caused everything to go haywire. But now, he embraced the anger. There was nothing good about this, there was no way that he would be able to justify an object like this with all the information that he had so far.

A clock made using the memento of the Warden's dead son, the disappearance of which terrified even rather strong men. And then, a clock made out of a child's heart wrapped in wicked magic, carried by a vile undead.

This was the heart of the Warden's son, kept moving through necromancy. There was no doubt about this in Eiro's mind. And so, he just stood there. Before, he tried to hide himself, but now, he didn't. Eiro placed his cloak into his treasury and stood there, his wings spread out and his tail slowly waving behind him while his colorful horns were like a nest at the top of his head.

He stared at the closest corner and watched at the supervisor that he followed down here passed it with a longsword in his hands. The man slowly looked at the corpse of a guard laying on the ground with bits of his brain splattered on the ground and wall, while a demon was standing there with the one item that had been stolen right above that corpse.

"You! What d-"

"Be quiet, you absolute lowlife." Eiro interrupted him, "I know what you're thinking. I did not steal this. Just like you were, I was looking for this to return it to the Warden for my own reasons. This man here had been turned into an undead and made to bring this thing somewhere, probably someone that was meant to use this for specific means that I can't seem to figure out." The Demon explained bluntly, and the supervisor stood there, staring at Eiro in a mixture of fear and confusion, unable to stop himself from subtly shaking all over his body.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you. Under one condition, at least. You??re going to help me return this piece to the Warden." Eiro said bluntly, and the man stood there staring at him with clear worry, "B-But why would you return it to the Warden's Office if it angers you so..?"

Eiro slowly took a few steps forward until he stood in front of the man holding the sword. Eiro pressed the center of his chest against the tip of the blade, because he knew that nothing would happen anyway.

"I think you may be misunderstanding me. I did not say I would return it to the Warden's Office. I said that I would return it to the Warden. Let's hope that not everyone in this place is as useless as it seems." The Demon said bluntly, but it seemed like the supervisor-guard was a bit confused at first. But then, it caught up to him and he understood what Eiro was trying to say.

---

The moon stood high in the sky and an eery silence filled this small rural town that wasn't all too far away from Skyhart's Capital. It was a place that would make many wonder how it was even able to subsist for so long, since the whole place was practically nothing but a single large slum. People were suffering and starving, dying on the streets, and doing anything to survive.

That was, with the exception of the people that were currently celebrating their own life in the manor standing in the center of this town.

"Oh, how wonderful that sounds! You must tell me more about that!" A noble Lady exclaimed with fake interest masterfully woven into her voice as she dragged away a fellow Lady, leaving behind two Lords to speak to each other.

"While our wives are busy, would you join me on the balcony with one of these? They are made with special Tabacco leaves importet from the south. The only place you can get them is a small Ragashi Tribe where they're used as currency, even. They are more than just impressive." One of the two Lords said as he held a cigar over to the other, a short, plump man with rosy cheeks that happily accepted.

"Oh, there is no way I would ever decline." He said and quickly grabbed the cigar that he was offered as the two Lords made their way to the balcony that was connected to this manor's party ballroom.

"So..." One of them, the one that offered the other the cigar, said with a curious expression while he got out a special magic item to use to create a small flame before lighting up the other's cigar, "How is it going at the prison these days?"

"Ah, it is going perfectly. We did not have any incidents after I changed things around there. They should have just let me take over earlier, and nothing ever would have happened to anyone." The man said with a sigh that had a slight undertone of disappointment, and the other man quietly laughed, "Of course, I think so as well. If you remember, I was one of your most avid supporters in these events."

"Of course, I know that! There would be no reason for you to try and remove me from my position altogether, after all." He replied with a light smile on his face. The two of them were practically just lying to each other the whole time.

But just before the other man could light up his own cigar, a servant or butler came outside and called for him, "There is someone that would like to speak to you, my Lord."

With a deep sigh but a slightly smug expression at how 'important' he was, the man placed the cigar and the small magic item into his suit and stepped toward the door, "Excuse me, I will have to take care of this real quick."

"Take your time." With a slight smile on his face ,the man turned back toward the view from this balcony and kept smoking the cigar, simply trying to enjoy this sight for a little while as the other Lord went back inside of the manor's ballroom.

For a little while, he just kept smoking the cigar, but then at some point, he just furrowed his brows and threw the lit cigar at ground under the balcony, "Tastes like shit."

After making a bit of spit follow the cigar down to the ground, the man turned around and was just about to head back inside, but when he did, he saw something in the corner of his eye. A slightly glowing glass cylinder.

He snapped his neck toward it, seeing the magical object placed inside before ripping his eyes open in shock, "Wh-Wh-What?! How did this get here?!" The man exclaimed, but then immediately pressed his hand onto his mouth to keep himself quiet.

He stared at the glass cylinder and took a step closer and slowly touched the object to see if it was real or some kind of trick. But really, he could feel the freezing cold touch of the glass the moment his finger came in contact with it.

"Ah, perfect. The Quest really has been completed with this, huh?" A calm, chilling voice pointed out from behind the man, and he immediately turned his whole body around in shock. The moment he did, he had the lit cigar that he just threw down the balcony pressed into his right eye. But somehow, he couldn't really scream, since his lips were frozen together and he was feeling pure pain while trying to open his mouth.

So, he just grasped his eye while the figure in front of him pulled the cigar away from him and placed it into his mouth. The cigar was somehow still completely lit as the Demon took a puff of the cigar, "Heh, you're right, Mister Warden.. It tastes like shit."