Along the side of a dirt road cutting through vast open fields walked what appeared to be a nun. Her pace was calm and unhurried, soft dirt crunching beneath her shoes with each step. Her eyes remained closed as she walked, hands clasped together in front of her as though deep in prayer, completely undisturbed by the emptiness surrounding her.
After a while, she slowly opened her eyes, revealing bright blue irises before letting out a quiet sigh. "If only I had something to travel with instead of having to walk," she muttered to herself. The wind rolled through the open plains, stirring the grass in long waves around her. Looking further down the road ahead, she narrowed her eyes slightly after spotting dirt being kicked up in the distance.
"On cue, I suppose," she mused quietly.
A few moments later, the distant sound of an engine reached her ears.
The vehicle approaching was a steamwagon, though far larger than standard civilian models. It was nearly twice as wide and significantly longer, heavy wheels grinding against the road while steam hissed rhythmically from vents along its sides. Even from a distance, it looked less like transportation and more like a moving fortress. Thick metal plating reinforced its exterior, bolts and reinforcements layered across the frame in ways that made it obvious the vehicle had been modified extensively.
As it drew closer, the steamwagon gradually slowed before finally coming to a stop beside her.
Up close, the thing looked even heavier. Armored plating covered most of its body, reinforced with thick riveted steel that gave it an almost military appearance. A loud hiss of steam escaped from the back before the rear compartment slowly pulled open. A metal platform lowered toward the dirt road with a heavy mechanical clank.
Three men stepped out. The woman calmly looked them over. They wore unusual armor, something between jackets and plate armor, sturdy enough for combat while still allowing movement. Sabers hung at their waists. One had long black hair tied back into a ponytail. Another had only one visible eye, the other hidden beneath a scar that ran vertically across it, leaving it permanently shut. The last one, who stepped forward first, had unnaturally bright yellow eyes.
"Well now," he said, resting a hand casually against the handle of his saber, "what do we have here? A woman all alone on the road this late?" "That's pretty suspicious, isn't it?" the one with the ponytail added, his saber already drawn and resting lazily over his shoulder. "Not to mention dangerous," the scarred man said while crossing his arms. "Especially with demons running around everywhere lately."
The woman looked between the three of them before clasping her hands together once more. "Are you brave men protecting people from the demons?" she asked with a gentle smile.
The three exchanged glances before chuckling amongst themselves. "Yeah," the yellow eyed man answered proudly. "We from the Lorenz Company have been protecting people from the demons." He placed a hand against his chest. "And leading this group is me. Cases Fredrik." "Not only that, sister," the man with the ponytail added, "but we've already got a few rescued people inside the steamwagon." A grin spread across his face. "Though honestly, I did most of the rescuing myself. Name's Drabik Will." "And I'm the one doing most of the demon killing," the scarred man added bluntly. "Tobias Drez."
"Ah, thank goddess," the woman said softly. "I thought I would have to walk all the way to the next village or town, but you all found me instead. Truly, it must be a blessing from goddess."
Cases nodded toward the rear of the steamwagon. "Come around back," he said while jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "We'll get you inside with the others."
The woman gave a small grateful bow before walking toward the back of the vehicle. Inside, she found seven other people gathered tightly together. Three adult women, one young boy, and three girls sat huddled inside the cramped space.
"Hm," she hummed softly to herself.
Then she noticed their expressions.
The moment several of them recognized her clothing, their faces twisted into horror rather than relief.
"A-a sister?" one of the women whispered shakily. "W-would they… no… they w-wouldn't, right?"
Before the woman could respond, Tobias stepped up behind her. "By the way," he began casually, "we can't exactly let you ride for free, sister." A smirk spread across his face. "We've got a lot of people to rescue and not much space left, so we can't just let everyone in without payment."
The woman turned toward him with a small apologetic smile. "Do you want coin? If so, I'm afraid I do not carry any." Drabik chuckled from nearby. "Don't worry, sister. It's nothing like that." His eyes slowly traveled up and down her body openly now. "We want a different kind of payment."
"I'm sorry," she replied innocently. "I don't understand."
Cases stepped directly in front of her then. "Oh, don't worry," he said with a grin as he reached his right hand toward her chest. "I'll help you understand what we want." "Alright," the woman replied.
Her tone changed instantly. The soft, saintly innocence vanished from her voice entirely as her hand shot up and wrapped around his wrist. "Can't pretend anymore." With a single pull, she tore his arm completely off.
The sound was horrifyingly clean.
Cases screamed as blood erupted violently from the ruined shoulder, his severed arm still clenched tightly in her grip while he stumbled backward in shock and agony. "What the fuck!?" Drabik shouted, recoiling instinctively. At the same moment, Tobias reacted on instinct. His saber flashed free from its sheath as he swung directly toward her neck in one clean motion. The blade struck her shoulder. And snapped in half instantly.
Tobias froze. "Huh?" He stared down at the broken remains of his saber before slowly looking back up at her, fear immediately flooding his visible eye.
The woman calmly reached beneath her robes and pulled out a heavy mace. "I can't pretend to be the frail and saintly nun anymore around rapists and extortionists like you." She slowly raised the weapon, her expression no longer warm. "I am Demon Lord Zerakhea," she said coldly, "and I will be seeing you three later in Hell."
Her weapon came down. The cracking of bones, the wet spray of blood, and the tearing of flesh echoed across the empty fields.