Asher sat alone in his room, the silence pressing against his ears. Queen Luna had departed for the neighboring kingdom hours ago, leaving the palace eerily quiet. He fidgeted with the edge of his blanket, a strange unease gnawing at him, his pulse quickening with each passing second as if the air itself whispered of danger.
A flicker of movement darted behind him—too fast to track. He whipped his head around, eyes wide, but the shadows remained still. Then, as he turned back, a figure loomed right in front of him. He yelped, scrambling backward, his small frame trembling—until a familiar laugh cut through the tension.
"Relax, silly! It's just me, Ava!" His elder sister grinned, scooping him into a tight hug. "My little cutie brother is adorable even when he's scared!"
"S-Sister!" Asher huffed, squirming in her grip. "You almost gave me a heart attack! And… didn't Mom say you have to take care of the kingdom?"
Ava, all eighteen years of boundless energy, waved a hand dismissively. "Psh, they won't let me do anything serious yet anyway. So I came to play with you! Let's go outside!" Before he could protest, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him down the hall, her laughter echoing as they descended toward the training grounds.
The courtyard opened before them under a graying sky, cherry blossoms swaying in an uneasy breeze. Asher slowed, his voice dropping to a quiet, serious tone. "Sister… do you really want to be the Protector?"
In this world, the Protector was akin to a hero—a chosen warrior tasked by the goddess to slay the five demons and their lord. Ava had been selected for that fate, a weight that pressed on Asher's chest as he watched her. She turned, her smile softening, and ruffled his hair. "Shh, don't worry. This is why I exist. The goddess picked me, so she'll protect me too. Once I kill the Demon Lord, we'll live happily together forever!" She pulled him into another fierce hug.
"I don't want you to die," he mumbled into her shoulder, his small hands clutching her tunic. She'd always been his shield, his comfort—losing her was unthinkable.
"Okay, okay, my little doll," Ava chirped, pulling back with a grin. "Let's play a—" Her words caught, her eyes widening at something over his shoulder. A shadow flickered across her face, and the air grew heavy.
Asher turned, the world slowing as a deafening crack shattered the stillness. The courtyard wall exploded inward, rubble crashing down in a cloud of dust. From the breach poured a swarm of demons—souls twisted into monstrous shapes, some humanoid, some beastly, all shrouded in shadow. The air turned frigid, biting at his skin.
"We're under attack!" Ava shouted, shoving Asher behind her. Knights and soldiers rushed in, their blades clashing against the spectral horde. Steel rang against ethereal claws, and screams pierced the chaos as the kingdom plunged into darkness, the sunlight swallowed by an unnatural gloom.
"We're under attack!" Ava shouted, shoving Asher behind her. Knights and soldiers rushed in, their blades clashing against the spectral horde. Steel rang against ethereal claws, and screams pierced the chaos as the kingdom plunged into darkness, the sunlight swallowed by an unnatural gloom.
The soldiers fought valiantly, cutting down the lesser souls—wraiths with hollow eyes and jagged limbs—but the ground trembled beneath their boots. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone, glowing with a sickly purple light. From them erupted more souls, their forms grotesque: eyeless faces stretched in silent screams, bodies dripping with black ooze, claws scraping as they dragged themselves free. The air thickened with the stench of decay, and the soldiers faltered, their blades trembling as the relentless tide overwhelmed them.
A guttural snarl rose above the din, and a demon stepped from the swarm. Its long, spindly limbs dragged claws that screeched against the stone like nails on a chalkboard. Its hollow eyes locked onto Ava. "Where's the chosen woman? Ahh… there you are. The Demon of Death wants you dead, and as his loyal servant, I'll deliver you to him."
Ava drew her sword, her stance steady as stone. "In your dreams, demon. I'll cut you down first."
The creature's fanged maw split into a chilling laugh. "I'm no plaything like this soul army. I serve the Demon of Death directly. Not as mighty as his general, perhaps, but strong enough to crush you."
Steel met claw in a blur. Ava lunged, her blade slicing through the air in a perfect arc—Sword Expert precision at its finest. The demon parried with a swipe of its talons, sparks flying as metal clashed against bone. She ducked under its counterattack, rolling to its flank and slashing at its leg. Black ichor sprayed, staining the ground, but the creature barely flinched, swinging its elongated arm in a vicious backhand.
Ava blocked with her sword, the impact rattling her arms, but she held firm. She spun, feinting left before thrusting right, aiming for its chest. The demon twisted unnaturally, dodging by a hair, then lashed out with both claws. She leaped back, her boots skidding on the stone, and countered with a flurry of strikes—each one faster, sharper, forcing the demon to retreat. The souls around them shrieked, clawing at the soldiers, who were now drenched in sweat and blood, their armor dented and torn.
The demon roared, its limbs extending further, and the fight darkened. It summoned a gust of frigid wind, laced with the wails of the damned, knocking Ava off balance. She gritted her teeth, slashing through the gale, but the demon seized the moment, raking its claws across her chest. Her armor held, but the force sent her staggering. It pressed its advantage, striking again and again—claws slashing like a storm of razors. Ava parried desperately, her blade a silver blur, but the demon's speed grew, its laughter echoing as it toyed with her.
She ducked a wild swing and thrust upward, piercing its shoulder. The demon howled, ichor gushing, and retaliated with a brutal kick that caught her mid-step. Ava crashed to the ground, her sword skittering away, her body trembling as bones snapped under the impact. Blood seeped from her armor, pooling beneath her as she gasped, barely conscious.
"Sister!" Asher's scream tore from his throat as he watched her fall, the demon looming over her amidst the writhing souls. His breath hitched, and the world blurred—memories of Kannon's life flooding in. Aiko's voice rang clear: "Why are you so lazy, Kannon? If you only love your comfort, you'll lose everything." The words lingered, sharp and accusing, as the demon raised its claw.
Asher blinked, the memory fading into the chaos around him. His hands shook, but he clenched them into fists, his gaze darting to a fallen soldier's sword half-bury in the rubble. Like all men in this world, he had no magic power, no aura—just a fragile body and a racing heart. But Ava's blood stained the ground, and he couldn't stand still. The demon's claw descended toward her throat, and he bolted forward, snatching the blade—its weight light in his small hands, its edge gleaming faintly. The souls lunged at him, their claws grazing his legs, but he wove through them, his heart pounding louder than their wails.
He swung, the sword biting into the demon's wrist, severing its hand in a spray of dark blood. It howled, reeling back, and Asher pressed forward, ducking under its flailing arm. His blade flashed, slashing at its spindly legs with quick, precise cuts—each strike a defiance of his powerless state, fueled by the kenjutsu etched into his soul from another life. The demon stumbled, off-balance, and he leaped, driving the sword into its chest with all the strength his small frame could muster. It screeched, clawing at him, its remaining hand raking across his arm, drawing blood. Pain seared through him, but he twisted the blade deeper, his jaw tight, refusing to yield despite the lack of magic or aura to bolster him.
The demon lashed out again, its claws grazing his shoulder, but Asher rolled aside, yanking the sword free. Black ichor sprayed, and he darted behind it, slashing at its back. The creature spun, faster than he'd expected, and slammed its severed stump into his side, sending him sprawling. The sword flew from his grip, clattering against the stone. The demon advanced, its fanged maw dripping with malice, but Asher scrambled up, snatching a broken spear from a fallen knight.
He dodged its next swipe, the claw whistling past his ear, and thrust the spear into its leg, pinning it momentarily. The demon roared, ripping the weapon free, but Asher used the opening to retrieve his sword. With a final, reckless charge, he leaped onto its back, wrapping his small arms around its neck, and drove the blade through its spine. The creature convulsed, its screeches deafening, then collapsed into a heap of ash, the souls around it dissipating into the wind.
Panting, Asher dropped the sword and stumbled to Ava's side. "Sis!" He knelt, lifting her head gently, his hands trembling as he brushed her blood-matted hair from her face. She groaned, alive but broken, her breaths shallow, her face pale against the blood-soaked ground.
A fleeting relief washed over him—until the air grew heavy, suffocating. The shadows deepened, the cold biting deeper into his bones. He froze, a chill creeping up his spine, and turned slowly. A new demon emerged from the darkness, its form a nightmare made flesh. Its curvaceous body twisted like a corrupted goddess statue, pale skin webbed with black veins. Raven hair writhed like living shadows, and its eyes burned with eerie green embers. High cheekbones and full lips formed a face of beautiful horror, twisted into a cruel smile. An aura of dread and feminine menace rolled off her, choking the air.
"Well, well," she purred, her voice a venomous melody. "The chosen woman's little pet has teeth. But playtime's over."
Asher tightened his grip on Ava, his small frame trembling as the demon stepped closer, her claws gleaming in the dim light, the battlefield silent save for the echo of her laughter.