“Greetings, I’m the village head. May I have a few words with you?” the old man said with a polite smile.

Malak sighed as his headache grew more severe. He could barely concentrate. Had it not been for the maid’s support, his strength would have already given up.

“Our Master isn’t feeling too well, please come back tomorrow,” Ezrel answered from behind the village head, which surprised him.

The metallic stench of blood floated in the air. Adding to Ezrel’s imposing presence, the elder demon shrunk. Fear clouded his eyes as he kept staring at the bloodied clothes and sword in Ezrel’s firm grip. The mask hiding everything but his eyes did nothing to reassure the elder demon.

Ignoring the stranger, Kian brought his left fist to his chest and walked forward. “Master, we eliminated all the fiends surrounding the village.”

Malak nodded once. “Good job, go get cleaned up,” he ordered as both men walked away to the well. “Village head, the sun is setting. Let’s meet tomorrow morning.”

As if seeing Malak for the first time, the elder stared. “O-of course! Tomorrow then.”

Feeling his strength crumbling, the maid quickly helped Malak into Kuzma’s house. Acting like his cane, she helped him to the sofa in the living room, where he could finally rest. As Malak sat comfortably, he rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes for a minute.

ヾ(ｏ´Дゞｏ)｡o○

The sun had almost disappeared on the horizon. Unlike Gathun, the village of Biraz didn’t have street lights. During the dark of night, the villagers relied on candles in their homes. Closing the door behind them, Kian and Ezrel walked into Kuzma’s house. They were greeted by the hostess, who was dressing up the table for dinner. The maid was also helping. She took off her cloak but kept the mask on.

“Where’s Master?” Ezrel asked as he didn’t see him.

“He has been sleeping ever since he came back,” Kuzma’s wife answered as she nodded toward the sofa. “I heard he healed half of the village.”

Kian sat down next to his husband. He frowned under his mask. Malak had always been eager to help others at the expense of his health. Taking his hand, Kian shared a bit of his energy to replenish his lover’s core. When it was almost half-full, Malak’s cheeks regained some colour.

“Where will we rest tonight?” Kian asked as he observed the state of the living room.

“We only have another room to share. It can comfortably lodge two persons. The other two will have to sleep in the living room,” she answered uncomfortably.

“It’s plenty. Thank you,” Ezrel thanked warmly.

She nodded. “Let’s eat!” she shouted, and the children came running in.

“Bring two bowls into the room. We will eat inside,” Kian ordered as the maid nodded and quickly went to pour two bowls of potato stew for them.

Carefully, Kian took Malak into his arms as the children stared at him wide-eyed and with their mouths half-full with food. In a few steps, he disappeared into the bedroom, followed by the maid carrying their meal. Closing the door behind her, she joined Ezrel and the family for dinner. The table was crowded with them seated alongside each other. So many eyes witnessed the scene, and yet no one dared to question it. They already knew what happened to people who confronted people in power. They didn’t dare to befall their guests’ wrath. Despite being thankful for Malak's healing, the family was still wary of his masked followers. In an effort to dissipate the strange atmosphere, they dug their teeth into their food. Breaking a piece of bread, the maid soaked it into the stew while Ezrel chewed on a piece of dried meat. Most of the diner was eaten in silence. However, the kids behaved normally as usual. It didn't matter that each had its own portion, they still fought over the bowl containing more pieces of meat or the largest piece of rye bread.

When everyone finished eating, the women cleaned up the table while Kuzma put the children to bed. Ezrel went to check up on the couple and brought back their dirty dishes. Once everything was cleaned, Kuzma and his wife retired to their bedroom, leaving Ezrel and the maid in the living room. Her short stature made it easy for her to fit on the couch, and she felt comfortable. On the other hand, the second sofa was too short for the male demon, causing his feet to dangle in the air. After a day of fighting, he fortunately quickly fell asleep.

ヾ(ｏ´Дゞｏ)｡o○

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and Kuzma was already dressed to go hunting. He failed to bring any game yesterday and today, so he needed to make up for it today. Yesterday, he was overjoyed to hear from the masked stranger that they took care of the fiends. Carefully walking through the living room where his guests were still fast asleep, he left his house. Running, he joined Yefim at the entrance of the village. Kuzma quickly shared the news to his friend, who beamed upon hearing it. Together, they walked along the path to reach the forest's edge.

Several hours later, the sun rose on the horizon. Kuzma’s wife walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her children and guests. She sighed at the leftover ingredients on the shelf. Ever since the guards looted everything, every villager struggled to build back their reserve for winter. At this rate, they would likely starve. However, the fiend problem was now resolved. She was positive their situation will get better. Kuzma was a good hunter and never failed to provide for them. She would also contribute by selling some hand-knitted socks and gloves at the nearest town, but with the economy, there wasn’t much profit.

“Good morning,” Ezrel greeted with a smile under his mask.

She spun around with a hand on her chest in surprise. “Ah! Yes, good morning.” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” he responded despite his lie. “Do you need help?”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a guest.”

Ezrel observed the cooking woman for a moment before asking about the elder who was waiting for Malak outside their house yesterday. He gave her a description of his appearance.

“That’s the chief of our village. “He must have heard what your Master did, and he wanted to thank you?” she answered as she chopped vegetables of various colours. “Everyone is grateful for your aid,” she smiled.

“The current King is unworthy of the throne and a tyrant. We only wish to help the people and bring good fortune.”

She froze in her cooking and glanced around her house as if she were expecting to find a spy. She wiped her hands on a clean towel before facing Ezrel with worry clouding her eyes.

“Any words slandering the ruler is an act punishable by death,” she whispered cautiously. “Do not spread this around.”

“I saw that oak tree yesterday and I…” Ezrel paused as looked down at the table. “My apologies.”

“It’s alright,” she whispered with teary eyes. “Please excuse me.”

Kuzma’s wife walked out of the kitchen and disappeared into her room. Alone, Ezrel observed the deserted kitchen before going back to the living room.

In the late morning, Malak and his three masked followers stood in front of the village head’s house. They patiently waited for someone to open the door after knocking. Being the chief of the village, he lived in the biggest house, surrounded by agricultural fields and orchards. Men worked the fields while women picked the ripe fruits from the trees.

A female demon with blond hair and a whiter shade of horns greeted them. “May I help you?”

“Dear, who is it?” her husband asked as he appeared from behind. A nervous smile stretched on his lips. “I was expecting you, welcome.”

The group walked into the minimalist, yet well-decorated house. Unlike Kuzma’s house who only had a living room, a kitchen and two bedrooms, this one also had a dining room and an extra guestroom. Other than that, the chief didn’t own much power or money. He was the representative of the village and the person to see if there was a conflict.

Comfortably seated in the living room, the guests were offered a cup of tea.

“I’m Artem, the chief of the village and this is my wife, Efimiia,” he presented himself politely.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Malak answered with a smile. “I apologize for my poor conduct yesterday. I hope we didn’t offend you.”

“No harm was done,” Artem assured.

“Good,” Malak took a sip of the tea. “What can I help you with?”

The man stared at Malak in the eyes before focusing his attention on the two masked men. “I wanted to thank you for helping my village. Not only did you cure the wounded and sick, but you also got rid of the fiends terrorizing the hunters.”

“As we passed by those in need, I couldn't ignore them.”

“The generosity of your heart is evident. How could we ever repay you?”

“When the time comes, I’ll need your voices.”

The couple stared at Malak. “Are you really…” Artem asked before hesitating.

Though Malak's heart raced, he tried to control his emotions. At moments like this, he wished he was the one wearing a mask. The chief must know about his identity because he suspected that Yefim informed him.

Although he harboured hatred for the guards and the nobles ordering them, he felt powerless. Nothing he did would have changed their situation. In the end, he was made to witness the guards kill his family and friends. The age and gender didn’t matter. A generous Lord who opposed the current King ruled over them. That was their crime. After such a tragedy struck their village, their chief didn't hesitate, even if it was the devil himself that offered salvation. He will make it his duty to repay his benefactors and bring back the peace and prosperity that were once stolen from them.