Chapter 189: The Wise Man of the Village

For most creatures on the Material Plane, the lines of alignment weren’t so strict: a conservative, old-fashioned gentleman might do something uncharacteristic out of curiosity, and a ruthless criminal might generously toss a handful of Gold Coins to a beggar on the street.

Ron often leaned toward kindness, but that didn’t stop him from picking up the Feibo family’s Engraving Knife.

But alignment did possess real power, especially for beings with faith, or those born from it. An Angel would lose the protection of the heavens for falling from grace, and a succubus would suffer greatly for trying to reform.

When the bloodthirsty and murderous Babu Demons of the Chaos Camp suddenly became less "chaotic," their power naturally waned from its peak. Clearly, they weren’t as fortunate or powerful as Zarell, who had been able to forsake her alignment and find shelter and protection under another being.

"Tell me the location of your village and the layout of the surrounding sentry posts." The villager, trapped in this situation, couldn’t answer any more of their questions. After learning the village’s location and the arrangement of its guards, they let the man—who had lived and died in utter confusion—finally rest in peace.

"It looks like we’ll have to find that ’Wise Man’ to get to the bottom of this," said Constance. "Let’s hope he’s more reasonable."

"That’s wishful thinking. He’s probably a demon, so how could he be reasonable?" Aive snorted. "The problem is, we can’t kill him. We have to take him alive."

"Why? If we kill him, won’t the illusion he cast be broken?" Sera asked, confused. "Then we can just ask the villagers after they come to their senses."

"Let’s be realistic. What would a group of ordinary people know? They aren’t from the generation that personally experienced the kingdom’s fall," Silvia said with a helpless sigh. "Besides, any demon capable of weaving such a massive web isn’t a problem you can solve just by killing it."

"What if we banish it back to the Abyss and the effect isn’t dispelled? What do we do then? Burn the whole village to the ground?"

The Vampire Descendant wasn’t too opposed to the idea, but even she thought it was too extreme. Besides, her benefactor, Ron, would never agree.

"Can you please tell me how you even came up with a solution like that?!" Victoria stared at her, speechless. "A normal person wouldn’t even consider it!"

"That’s not true," Delaford grunted. "I was just thinking the same thing!"

Although Ron’s party had learned the village’s location and layout from the corpse, the information from the Communication with the Dead spell was fragmented. By the time they could see the firelight from the village, the night sentinels had spotted them as well.

"Demons are invading!"

They already knew that neither the humans nor the demons here were normal, but hearing those words shouted from the mouth of a bloated Timid Demon still filled Ron and the others with a sense of indescribable wrongness.

’The times have really changed. Now even demons are calling humans demons!’

The great bronze bell on the watchtower was rung furiously. Moments later, all the able-bodied men from the village, along with several demons, rushed out. They raised torches, scimitars, and spears, completely surrounding Ron and his companions.

"Benefactor, it’s taking all my effort not to laugh. These Babu Demons are holding torches, but they have darkvision. It’s like they have no idea."

Silvia drew close to Ron. However, just as she tried to lean on his shoulder, the Half-Elf Warrior subtly took a step back, nudging the Vampire Descendant to the side.

"Demons!" a middle-aged man in the lead snarled, clutching a wooden club and glaring at Ron’s party. "You destroyed our kingdom and trampled our cities! Are you still not satisfied? Do you want to hunt down and exterminate every last descendant of the Farama Kingdom?!"

"Then bring it on! We will never be taken without a fight! Until we’ve shed our last drop of blood, you will never truly conquer Farama!"

He seemed to hold great authority in the village. After his impassioned speech, even the weakest of the Timid Demons were roused to action.

"We aren’t demons! We’re here to help you!" Constance tried to reason with them, though it was futile. "It’s the opposite! The demons are right there among you! Can’t you see that short one beside you? That’s a demon!"

"And that tall, skinny one with the spear!"

"Utter nonsense!" the man roared in fury. "Jerry and Paraven have been my friends for many years! We grew up together! How dare you make such baseless accusations?!"

"Men, let’s get them! We have to wipe out this small band of demons! Don’t let a single one get away!"

"Oh, perfect!" Sera sneered, taking the Grip of the Vast Wave in hand. "Enough of this pointless jabbering. Once I send them all back to the Abyss, you’ll figure out who’s right and who’s wrong. Let’s go!"

"Kill the Balrog Flame Demon first!" a Babu Demon yelled, charging forward with a few reckless human villagers.

Ron: ’...If Sera were actually a Balrog Flame Demon, there wouldn’t even be ashes left of you! Where do they get the nerve?!’

"Get ready," Ron said, raising a hand and unleashing a Freezing Ray. "We’re not going to see that ’Wise Man’ unless we break through them!"

Just as the humans and demons were about to spill their blood for their home, a long, drawn-out sigh echoed from deep within the village.

"George, stop. They are not the enemy."

"Wha—" The middle-aged man froze. "How can that be? They’re demons—"

"That is merely their outward appearance. It is the only way they could pass through the outside world to reach us," the mysterious voice said, its tone completely placid. "Do you remember the pilgrims? Without a disguise, they would be hunted as prey by the demons."

"Let them enter. I believe they have something to discuss with me."

"But..." George’s expression was conflicted. To his eyes, these invaders were each more hideous than the last, and they all radiated an aura of pure evil. How could that possibly be a disguise?

However, the one who had spoken was the elder, the Wise Man who had survived the great cataclysm. He was a man of immense experience. He had watched George himself grow up, just as he had watched George’s father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and even great-great-grandfather. In the village, his word was the supreme authority.

’He has protected us for hundreds of years. Would he really harm us now?’

"Very well. Since the elder has spoken," George sighed. He waved his hand, ordering "Jerry," "Paraven," and the others to stand down, clearing the path into the village. "Go on, then. Go and have an audience with him."

"But don’t forget, I’ll be watching you!"