Chapter 231

Chapter 231: Chapter 231

She looked at Ssyla with sympathy. "The fact that this is happening here, to this specific conflict, is extremely troubling. There are remnant cults—worshippers of the First Demon Lord who believe they can resurrect him through sufficient blood sacrifice. They’ve been trying for centuries, but the major demon lords and the Hero’s Guild have always crushed them before they could accumulate enough power."

"You think this village was chosen as a sacrifice site?" Satou asked, his mind already racing through the implications.

"More than that," Freda said grimly. "This entire conflict was probably orchestrated to create the maximum amount of death and suffering in a concentrated area. Think about it—two tribes that were previously at peace, suddenly at war. Both sides suffering heavy casualties. The land itself being corrupted into a wasteland. And now one side has been enhanced with forbidden magic, turning the conflict into a one-sided slaughter."

She gestured at the bodies scattered around them. "This isn’t just collateral damage from a war. This is a ritual. Every death feeds power to whatever dark working they’re building. We need to investigate this immediately and stop whatever they’re planning."

Satou turned back to Ssyla, his expression serious. "You said your people are still alive, still fighting?"

The lizard-folk girl nodded weakly. "Those of us who survived retreated to our ancestral caverns in the eastern cliffs. It’s a defensible position, but we’re trapped. The serpent folk have us surrounded. They attack every few hours, whittling down our numbers. We were down to maybe three hundred survivors last I knew—out of a tribe that numbered over two thousand just three months ago."

She looked down at her hands, voice breaking. "I was part of a scouting party trying to find a way through the serpent lines to get help. We were ambushed. Everyone else was killed. I only survived because... because I ran. I’m a coward who abandoned my comrades..."

"You’re a survivor," Satou corrected firmly, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "And you’re the reason we now know what’s happening here. If you’d died with your scouting party, we would have passed through this area never knowing there were people who needed help."

He stood, his decision already made. The mission to hunt Merc Assault was critical, yes. But this... this was something he couldn’t ignore. The systematic slaughter of innocents, the use of forbidden magic, the possibility of a cult trying to resurrect a demon lord who’d nearly destroyed the world.

And on a more personal level, the sight of those dead children scattered across the field had triggered something deep in his psyche. He’d built his settlement specifically to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. He couldn’t just walk away from people in need.

"Ssyla," he said, his voice carrying the weight of command, "take us to your people. To your leader. We’re going to help you end this."

The girl’s eyes widened in shock. "You... you’d really help us? But you’re on a mission. I heard you talking in the carriage about hunting someone, about a journey you need to complete..."

"The journey can wait a few days," Satou said, though part of him was already calculating the time cost. They’d planned to reach the Illusion Forest by tomorrow evening. This detour would add at least two or three days, maybe more depending on how entrenched the situation was.

But looking at Kelvin and Grimnir, he saw immediate agreement in their eyes. They’d been with him from the beginning. They knew what drove him, what principles he’d built his settlement on. They wouldn’t question this decision.

Urgot looked eager, practically bouncing on his feet at the prospect of real combat. Even Freda, despite her shy demeanor, nodded with scholarly determination—this was exactly the kind of dark magic threat Morgana had trained her to recognize and counter.

Only Shadow remained silent, that mysterious cloaked figure simply standing and observing. Finally, that magically-altered voice spoke: "Your mission to eliminate Merc Assault is time-sensitive. The longer we delay, the more chance he has to recover his strength or relocate."

It was a fair point, delivered without judgment—just tactical assessment.

"I know," Satou acknowledged. "But I also know that some things can’t be ignored. If there really is a cult here trying to perform a resurrection ritual, that’s a threat that could affect the entire demon realm. And besides..." his voice hardened with cold fury, "I don’t walk away from people who need help. Not when I have the power to make a difference."

Shadow was silent for a long moment, then gave a single nod. "Your decision. I’ll adapt. But we should move quickly if we’re doing this."

"Agreed," Satou said. He turned to Ssyla, extending his hand to help her to her feet. "Lead the way. And on the journey, I want you to tell me everything you know about the serpent tribe’s current positions, their patrol patterns, their leadership structure, everything."

Ssyla took his hand, standing on shaky legs that gradually steadied as the healing potion continued its work. "Yes, Lord... I’m sorry, I don’t know your name."

"Satou. And these are my companions—Kelvin, Grimnir, Urgot, Freda, and Shadow."

" Satou," Ssyla repeated, something like hope entering her voice for the first time since they’d found her. "Our hideout is about two miles east, in the cliffs overlooking what used to be our valley. The path is treacherous, and there are serpent patrols between here and there."

"Then we’ll deal with the patrols," Satou said simply. "Let’s move. The faster we reach your people, the sooner we can end this."

They set off immediately, with Ssyla leading the way through terrain that showed the scars of recent warfare. Burned trees, scorched earth, craters from explosive magic, dried bloodstains on rocks—every few meters brought new evidence of the brutal conflict that had consumed this region.

As they moved, Ssyla provided tactical information, her voice growing steadier as she focused on practical matters rather than trauma.

"The Crimson Fang tribe—the serpent folk—they have maybe eight hundred warriors left. But with the dark magic making them stronger and fearless, they fight like they’re twice that number. Our scouts estimated they’re taking about a ten-to-one kill ratio now."