Sollar had literally run her way up the spiral staircase. Once reaching the top, she then peered out at the Capital, seeing that she was now basically on top of the city. Pillars of smoke rose from the streets, and she could still hear the sounds of clashing and the occasional explosion.

Taking her attention away from the backdrop of the city, the Demonfolk girl then turned to look at the few doors there were around the area. Some were heavy wooden doors, others were metal ones that had locks on them. The locks were no difficulty for her; she could simply cut them open with Shov-ar. But there were so many that it was difficult for her to make a choice...

One of the doors opened, a heavy metal one, and out came a particular gray-haired Harpy. He did not expect to see Sollar upon stepping out, and performed a double-take.

“Wait, Luth, how did you get...?”

He paused, then blinked twice. “Hold on, you’re not Luth.”

Sollar gripped her shovel instinctively. The Harpy stepped closer, feathered hands behind his back, as he peered at the Demonfolk girl.

“...Yeah, I see a resemblance,” he started. “So you’re the one!”

She immediately raised Shov-ar up, which caused the Harpy to step back.

“Bird person?” she asked. “Get away! I’m going to Luth-ar!”

“Hey, hey. No worries, I ain’t gonna hurt ya,”

He then reached his hand out, for a handshake. “Name’s Skarrol. I’ve been talking with your brother for quite a bit. I’d ask for your name, but I already know, you’re Sollar right?”

Sollar gave a wary glance at him. Skarrol dropped his hand, seeing that she did not trust him.

“...You know?” Sollar asked. “About Luth-ar?”

“Luth-ar? Oh, Luth. Right, heh, you add that at the end of... every name, I almost forgot,” Skarrol said. “Yeah, I know him. I know where he’s at. And he knew that you were coming up here, too. Both of us were!”

“Really?” the Demonfolk girl asked. She lowered her shovel, and stared in amazement. “You did know? How?”

“That’s... uh, you’ll have to ask him,” Skarrol replied. Rather, he didn’t want to try to explain to her how the whole surveying system that Lord Luth used. “Follow me, he’s just through this door!”

He waved his hand for her to follow, and threw open the metal door. Skarrol was only able to take four leisurely steps down the hallway before Sollar rocketed past him. He stopped the moment she did, staring in surprise at how fast the Demonfolk girl was.

Meanwhile, Sollar scanned each dungeon cell to the left and right of her, keeping an eye out for her brother. All the cells were empty, one after another, but then she spotted him near the end of the row.

She skidded to a stop and gave a yell.

“Luth-ar!”

Lord Luth, who was staring at the floor of his cell, glanced up. His eyes filled with light the moment he spotted his sister.

“S... Sollar!”

He stared, in shock, as Sollar reeled her shovel back. Subconsciously channeling her magical energy through the tool, she thrust it forward into the bars of the prison effortlessly.

Another swipe at the upper portion of the prison had the metal bars clatter to the floor, allowing Sollar to step through.

“Luth-ar!” she exclaimed again, throwing her arms out to grasp around Lord Luth. The Demon Lord, too, hugged back, embracing his younger sister

The two held each other like so.

“Sollar. You didn’t need to go after me,” Luth said. “I’m safe here, it’s not like—”

The Demonfolk girl immediately pushed him back. Surprised at her strength, Luth could only stare into Sollar’s concerned eyes.

“Yes, I needed to go to you!” she exclaimed. “Because I can’t find you! And you suddenly stopped with the talking!”

It looked like the Demonfolk girl was still hung up over his connection with her getting terminated. Lord Luth sighed.

“Sollar... that wasn’t my fault. Well, it somewhat was, they figured out that we were talking. But they cut me off from you.”

Sollar gave an angry frown. “They can’t just do that!”

“But they... did,” Luth replied.

Sollar gave a huff and crossed her arms. “Why are they never fair... Oh, I forgot!”

Her eyes brightened back up when she grabbed for something in her knapsack. After fumbling around for a few moments, she pulled out a familiar piece of dark headwear.

“Your Crown!”

Lord Luth stared at her in shock. He opened his mouth, then closed it. The Demon Lord seemed unsure what to say.

“I want to give the Crown back to you!” Sollar exclaimed. “Because I don’t want it!”

“My... my Crown? Sollar...”

“I give it back to you!” she exclaimed. “Take it!”

She pushed the Crown into her brother’s face, to which he retreated back a step because of the particularly sharp edges.

“Wait, Sollar. Just hold it still, you don’t need to push it into my— youch, you’ve got me in the eye!”

Sollar was taken aback as her fell back on the seat and his arms went up to vigorously rub at his eyes.

“Luth-ar, sorry! I’m sorry, Luth-ar!”

Luth wiped his eyes, trying to get the tears out of them. “Just... just be careful, it doesn’t hurt all that much, don’t worry.”

In truth, it hurt a lot. But he didn’t want to make his sister feel bad.

He gave a sigh, and continued wiping an eye with an arm. “But... thank you for returning my Crown.”

After he finished wiping his eyes, he gingerly took his Crown from Sollar’s grasp with both his own hands. He held it up and turned it around on his head, before looking his sister straight in the eyes.

“Sollar. The Crown didn’t do anything when you had it... right?” he asked.

The Demonfolk girl gave a stare back.

“Do something?” she asked. “No, I don’t think so?”

“It didn’t speak to you or anything?”

Now Sollar was really confused. So, she laughed.

“It’s a Crown thingy!” the Demonfolk girl said. “It’s not a person! It can’t talk to me!”

Luth didn’t seem too convinced, but he still went ahead with the procedure to transfer the Crown back to him. The Demon Lord placed the Crown back on his head, and he could immediately feel a sense of power returning to him. Of course, this new influx would be immediately drained away from him by the chains and shackles around him, but just for a second he felt far more energy coursing through his veins. He closed his eyes to steady his breath.

Then, he remembered the reason why Sollar had to return the Crown in the first place. The Demon Lord grit his teeth, to suppress the anger he suddenly felt.

There were a few ways to transfer the Crown from one individual to another. There was one in mind that potentially involved the Generals; the system never had any issues, historically, but what transpired between General Forge and Sollar might’ve been a first.

“Okay. Sollar, I’ve got an important question to ask you,” Lord Luth said. “And you need to answer it truthfully. Got that?”

Sollar cocked her head, but nodded her head anyway.

“Tell me. General Forge, did he treat you nicely?”

Sollar responded almost immediately.

“Forr-ar? No! He was nice!” she said, jumping up almost a little. “There were some times when he was mad, but he wasn’t like that all the time! And he even allowed me to get dessert before dinner!”

Lord Luth blinked for a few moments, closed his mouth, then nodded. He certainly was not going to refute that, but the Demon Lord still had his own suspicions.

“Okay, then. How did you learn about the Crown?” the Demon Lord asked.

“Forr-ar was talking a lot, and I heard that there was a Crown thing! And I wanted to see it, so I got it! It showed up in my hands.”

General Forge broke rule number one: Don’t let Sollar know about the Crown.

Lord Luth will have to bring that up later. Preferably with General Forge himself. There was no way for Sollar to have the Crown bestowed upon her otherwise.

Lord Luth placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder, and gave a sigh. “Either way, Sollar. I can’t believe you’ve traveled so far just to come to me.”

“Because I said that I needed to!” Sollar exclaimed.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have,” Luth replied. “But it was dangerous. I saw that the Hero almost got you — three times!”

“But he didn’t!” Sollar retorted. “I stayed away from him, he didn’t hurt me.”

She stretched her arms out, to show that there wasn’t a scratch on her.

“See?”

Luth placed his hands on her arms and lowered them back down. “I know. But you were still in danger. You could’ve been hurt... if anything, you should’ve tried to get further away from me!”

Sollar brought her hands close to herself. She shrunk a little at the words. “Did... I do something wrong?”

Luth softened his scowl. “No... No, you didn’t do anything wrong. But doing all of that put you in lots of danger. I don’t want to see you hurt. Or in danger. You Flared up a few times too, right?”

Sollar blinked, in confusion. “Flared?”

“Those times when you had a lot of energy, your hands blacken and... never mind,” Luth stated. “I’m just glad you’re safe, but even then it’s still not safe here. Even though you probably...”

He stared out his cell window. Pillars of smoke still rose from the streets of the Capital.

“The Flaring? Oh! I remember now!” Sollar exclaimed. “When I got lots of energy. It was when scary things were happening!”

Lord Luth nodded. “Yes, that. But I want to know, how did you manage to evade the Hero?”

Another voice then chimed in, one that made Sollar freeze on the spot and had Lord Luth immediately pull her back behind him.

“She didn’t,” Ronn replied. He had stepped in quietly, standing within the hallway and staring into the cell. “I had been trailing her this entire time.”

And there was the Hero, broadsword in hand. Trailing behind him was the Healer, the grip on her wand tight.

Lord Luth stood tall, shielding his younger sister behind him. “Ronn? Ronn, what are you doing here?”

“I am here to apprehend the Second Coming,” he replied. His helmeted head turned slightly to look directly at the cowering Sollar.

Meanwhile, Lord Luth pursed his lips. He turned back a little, and whispered, “Sollar, you didn’t tell me that the Hero was still after you!”

“I didn’t know!” she replied.

Luth shook his head and looked back at Ronn. The Hero seemed to be trying to figure out a way to get through the bars of the prison; even though there was a door and a very large hole cut through the bars, he wouldn’t be able to fit himself through while keeping his broadsword ready to strike.

A familiar gray-haired half-Harpy peered from the edge of the hallway. He gave an apologetic look at the Demon Lord.

“Uh, sorry Luth,” Skarrol said. “Tried to distract the Hero but, well, he just walked past me.”

“Do not involve yourself in this,” Ronn said, his words directed at Skarrol. “I have instructed you to report back to me with whatever Lord Luth had been plotting. Now I see that you are taking his side? What possessed you to—”

Skarrol furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, on the contrary! I ain’t siding with Luth here, but I’m siding with his sis! You’ve got the wrong impressions from this—!”

“Do not interrupt me, please,” the Hero said. That shut Skarrol up immediately.

“Leave now, Skarrol. We will have our own discussion later,” Ronn continued. It seemed the half-Harpy wanted to say something, but he paused. Then, the half-Harpy slipped away without another word.

Lord Luth grit his teeth at the loss of someone who might’ve been able to convince the Hero.

“Ronn,” the Demon Lord said. “You don’t want to do this. My sister’s... she’s not a threat. I swear by it, she’s not dangerous. You’ve already got me, so just let her go.”

“You claim she’s not dangerous?” Ronn asked. He had decided to open the door of the cell and advance towards the two that way.

“Ronn,” the Demon Lord said. “Look me in the eyes and listen to what I have to say. Will you do that, at least?”

Ronn stopped. His helmet was facing Luth, and while the Demon Lord couldn’t see his face, he could feel the Hero’s gaze boring into him.

“I will humor you,” the Hero stated.

Lord Luth gave a nervous nod. “Okay. Listen to what I am saying, and tell me if I am lying. Sollar is not a threat. Sollar is not intelligent, nor is she crafty. She is a simple girl who isn’t as smart as the typical person.”

Ronn stood still. It seemed he was evaluating that statement given to him by the Demon Lord. The silence dragged on for an increasingly uncomfortable amount of time; Sollar’s hands gripped around Luth’s arm as they waited for a response.

“General Forge had given me the same ridiculous excuse,” Ronn said.

Lord Luth raised an eyebrow. “But you didn’t say it was false.”

“No. I said it was ridiculous.”

He stood there. The broadsword remained in his hands. Luth was nervously awaiting the answer to be given to him.

“Ronn,” Junil said. “I think there isn’t... too much point in trying to pursue this.”

“I did not ask for your input, Junil.”

The Healer flinched at his response.

All while this exchange happened, Luth’s eyes flickered from between the Hero and the Healer. There was something up with this here; if even the Hero’s Healer was reluctant, maybe it’d be easier to convince the Hero himself.

“You should listen to her,” the Demon Lord added. “This is all pointless.”

“Apprehending a threat to the peace is no pointless matter.”

“Sollar didn’t do anything wrong, though,” Luth pointed out. “I’ve watched all the times she’s Flared up; one of my passive abilities. You were the one that caused all the damage every single time. The train? That was you. The water slide? You again. Even when you ruined your own partner’s venture — that woman who’s named... Fraud, right? You. All you.”

A shuddering sigh could be heard from beneath Ronn’s helmet.

“Her name is Fraul,” he corrected. “And your evaluation of my performance is flawed, at best. You also forgot to consider the riots that your sister has contributed to.”

Luth blinked, then pointed towards the window. “Those riots? She started them?”

“Allegedly. She attacked a retired Hero Party member, which resulted in the Demonfolk performing a small uprising.”

Luth stared at the Hero in disbelief, then shook his head. “I can’t imagine her doing that.”

“She did. And, as a direct result of it, has caused untold amounts of damage.”

Sollar immediately butted in.

“But, uh, he was trying to get close to me!” she exclaimed. “That person. He touched my tail and I slapped him!”

“From eyewitness reports, you’ve slapped him in front of all of his employees,” Ronn replied. “Why else would you do that, if you were not aware of the existing tensions between the Demonfolk indentured servitude class and the current Human factory owners?”

The Demonfolk girl tilted her head.

“What?” she asked. Sollar didn’t understand half of what the Hero just said.

The Hero shook his head. “Do not attempt to feign ignorance to evade responsibility.”

Sollar was frowning. “I’m not... doing anything...” she muttered.

The four stood in tense silence. Nobody dared to make a move. The Hero’s hands remained clasped on his broadsword, the edge of which glowed its distinct gray color.

“Ronn, I think...” Junil said. But she couldn’t figure out how to phrase her next sentence, so the silence remained.

A new voice interrupted the standoff.

“I refute that assessment.”

Walking from the beginning of the hallway were two familiar Demonfolk Generals. General Seis and General Forge stepped together, carrying the swagger stick and halberd respectively, but they were not alone. A multitude of various other Demonfolk walked behind them. Every single one was wielding some makeshift weapon or tool.

“Hello, Hero,” the Demofolk woman said. “You might’ve known me as Seyya, Salkin’s hard-working secretary.”

She brought her swagger stick down and tapped it against the wall.

 “However, I am actually General Seis, the Second Demonfolk General. This is quite the first in-person meeting for us, isn’t it?”

The Hero lowered his broadsword, which had initially been pointed at Sollar and Luth. He turned his body to face the two newly-arrived Demonfolk Generals and their entourage, using his other hand to guide Junil behind him.

“General Forge, you’ve returned so soon?” the Hero asked. “It would have taken you days to recover from those injuries.”

General Forge grinned. His halberd was over his shoulder. “Yep! Miraculous recovery, eh? General Seis here knows some healing magic herself, though she doesn’t specialize in it.”

General Seis gave General Forge a light kick on his thigh, making him flinch.

“Not specialized, sure,”  the Demonfolk woman replied. “But that doesn’t mean I’m bad at it.”

“Don’t need to be so rough...” Forge replied, rubbing the place he was kicked. 

“Before I was interrupted, here is what I wished to say,” General Seis said. “Our dear Sollar here did nothing to Sir Salkin. Rather, she was provoked by him.”

“She was... provoked?”

“Indeed. He gets inebriated rather commonly, and when in such a state, he attempts to romance Demonfolk that catch his fancy.”

General Seis looked over at the Demonfolk girl in question. “Sollar just happened to be walking by when she accidentally caught his attention.”

When the implications of what General Seis was saying hit Lord Luth, his face contorted in disgust.

“Oh my goodness. Why did you tell me that?” Luth asked. “Hold that thought, I’m glad you did, but why did you choose to describe it in those words? You just destroyed any respect I had for Salkin.”

“What other words would you recommend me to describe him with? I know Salkin rather well, having worked as his secretary. He is not the most straight-thinking when drunk.”

The Hero had lowered his blade. But he did not let go of it.

“So. You had knowingly signed to work beneath Sir Salkin, with the goal of gathering intelligence from him? You knew you were a wanted individual?”

“That’s beside the point,” General Seis replied. “I wouldn’t have revealed myself in any other situation. I didn’t want to, but...”

General Seis pointed in the direction of Lord Luth’s cell.

“The safety of Lord Luth’s younger sister is a priority.”

“And the Demon Lord had given you such orders?”

The Second Demonfolk General gave a tsk, then crossed her arms. “Not at all. Both of us haven’t spoken in some time. I just exercised my own judgement. And, on that note...”

General Seis pointed her swagger stick directly at the two. The end of it was glowing a slight violet color.

“Hero, Healer, I recommend you lay down your weapons now. We’ve amassed our own little army.”

The Hero glanced at the multitude of Demonfolk who were behind the two Generals. They held pitchforks, pickaxes, hammers, and even broom handles that were being used as weapons.

“You rallied the rioting indentured servants?” he asked.

“Only the Demonfolk indentured servants,” General Seis corrected. “The ones that went into indentured servitude were overwhelmingly members of the Demonfolk armies, so it wasn’t difficult to organize them. There’s still some Humans rioting out on the streets, but they’re probably being swept up by the local garrison at this very moment.”

The Hero stood there, processing her words.

“Bringing Demonfolk under indentured servitude contracts to the Capital for factory work, to stage an insurrection. I could not have foreseen such a crafty plan by the two of you. How long have you two been preparing for it?”

General Seis shook her head. “You’re misconstruing what I’m saying, and making a few bold assumptions. We didn’t plan this. The circumstances happened to line up, in part, thanks to Sollar.”

“Should I really believe that all of this is mere coincidence?”

“Yes. After the war, most of the Demonfolk military chose indentured servitude over imprisonment, by the choice of the post-war Human treaties. They were sent to work in the Capital, of all places. And your former party member, Salkin, was one of the most egregious in treating them poorly. So it was only a matter of time before riots like this happened.

“Sollar hitting him with a shovel in public view of all of his workers was simply the tipping point. Which, mind you, the slap only happened because he attempted to lay his hands on her while he was drunk, and she defended herself.”

Forge looked over to Seis. “Damn, you’re good with talking.”

Seis glanced back at him. “I like to think so, too.”

The Hero could not think of a retort to any of the points that Seis brought up. What she said made sense; Salkin’s behavior was exactly as she described.

It was a massive coincidence, for sure. This clashed with the Hero’s own perception; that he could possibly be wrong. So, he proceeded to take the second-best decision he could possibly take, and that was to ignore it.

“I refuse to believe information from the Demon Lord’s generals. Neither will I listen to words from the Demon Lord himself.”

The Hero felt a tug at his arm, behind him. He turned to look down at Junil, who was now visibly worried.

“Ronn. You’re going too far,” she said, shaking her head. 

The Hero peered at his Healer companion.

“You too, Miss Junil? Have you turned against me?”

Junil closed her eyes, then took a breath.

“I wasn’t really with the mission from the beginning. I just think... it’s...”

The Healer opened her eyes, then glanced down. She didn’t know how to finish her sentence, but that said enough to Ronn.

“You never had to question my judgment before,” he said.

“It says all the more when I have to question it now,” Junil replied.

The Hero, for the first time, did not know what to say to that.

“Uhm... Ronn-ar?”

Sollar had taken one step towards Ronn. Both her hands were together, out of nervousness.

“I have a question to ask Hero,” she said.

“...Second Coming. You have a question? What may it be?”

“You don’t like me?” she asked.

Ronn was unsure what to expect, but he did not expect such a simple question.

“It is not a matter of whether I like you or not. I am simply doing my job in apprehending you,” he replied.

Sollar peered up at him. “But why?”

“Why what, may I ask?”

“Why do you do this?”

Sollar then waved her arms around, gesturing to the entire room. “Why this?”

“Why this?” he asked. “Because it is my job. You are a potential threat. It is my given duty to prevent a threat from becoming a danger to Humanity.”

“But why do you say I am ‘dangerous’?”

The Hero wanted to scoff. But he was feeling unsure of himself, especially after Junil’s admission.

He did not like feeling unsure of himself.

“You have proven yourself to be one,” he replied. “Are you not considering the amounts of damage you have done?”

Sollar looked down and fiddled with her hands. “But I didn’t mean to...”

What a simple and honest answer to his question.

“So,” Sollar continued. “I want to do a trade.”

Lord Luth perked up when he heard her say that.

“A trade?” he asked. The Hero was echoing a similar question in his mind: What did she mean by a trade?

“I want Luth-ar to be free,” she said. “And you...”

The Demonfolk girl pointed directly at the Hero. “You want me. So we trade. He is free. I go here.”

She gestured her arms to the cell.

Lord Luth immediately spoke up.

“Sollar, don’t be rash—”

But his sister cut him off by raising her arm.

“I want to!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed. “Because... Because Luth-ar can’t do anything in here.”

Ronn, on the other hand, shook his head.

“Second Coming, it does not work that way. Your brother was apprehended for the war. I cannot free him in exchange for you.”

“No... I want Luth-ar to be free. I want to put these chains off!”

The Demon Lord’s sister grabbed her Shov-ar, and raised the enchanted shovel over her head. She was aiming it right at Luth.

He held both his hands up.

“Sollar, you can’t just—!” he was about to say.

And then came down the shovel, directly on the chains. To the surprise of everyone in the dungeon, except for Sollar, the chains broke open and clattered to the ground. Sollar picked up those chains and—

“I can be where he is instead!”

—Pressed them against her own body. Upon making contact, the broken shackles immediately re-formed, and clicked closed around her.

Sollar gasped, the moment the chains sapped into her magical energy. But it was far too late for her to take back that decision. Her arms stiffened, her eyes widened.

The Demon Lord watched, helpless to do anything.

The Hero made eye contact with her for just a moment — to see the resignation in those eyes of hers — before they dulled and closed shut. Everyone in the room witnessed her limp body slumped down, as she was caught by her brother before she could fall to the ground.

Nobody moved, all out of numb shock.