The town stretched out before them, alive with movement and chatter. It was a place untouched by the horrors of battle, where the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air, where merchants shouted over one another, and soldiers walked with the weariness of men who had seen too much.
Toji rode through the streets, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. He wasn't used to places like this—so full of life, so… ordinary. It was strange how the world kept moving, uncaring of the war that raged beyond its walls.
People whispered as he passed.
"That's him. The one who tore through the battlefield."
"They say he fights like a demon."
"He doesn't even use magic. How is that possible?"
Toji ignored them. Let them talk. He wasn't here to make friends.
Ahead, Serene dismounted, tying his horse to a post outside a small stone building. It was unimpressive compared to the towering structures of the main square, but there was something about it—something ancient. The worn wooden door was covered in arcane symbols, and the windows glowed with the warm light of candles.
Serene glanced at Toji. "Come on. You need this."
Toji scoffed but followed.
The interior smelled of ink, parchment, and dust. Scrolls and books lined every shelf, and a massive table in the center was covered in open tomes, maps, and strange diagrams.
A young man stood behind the table, adjusting his glasses as he studied a particularly aged scroll. He looked up as they entered, his sharp blue eyes flicking from Serene to Toji.
"So, this is him?"
Serene nodded. "Toji, meet Frankie. He's a scholar, one of the youngest ever recognized by the Grand Library. He'll help you make sense of this world."
Toji leaned against the doorframe, unimpressed. "I don't need some bookworm explaining things to me."
Frankie smirked. "You'll change your mind soon enough."
His confidence was irritating. Most people were either afraid of Toji or eager to prove themselves against him. Frankie, though, looked at him like he was just another subject to be studied.
"Sit," Frankie said, gesturing to a chair. "This will take a while."
Serene clapped Toji on the back. "I'll leave you two to it. You need knowledge as much as you need strength." With that, he left.
Toji sighed and sat, arms crossed. "Alright, scholar. Enlighten me."
Frankie rolled out an ancient scroll, revealing a depiction of six towering figures, each surrounded by swirling elements. Their names were etched in old script beneath them.
"The Old Gods," Frankie said. "The ones who shaped this world."
Toji raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. They created everything, and now we're all supposed to bow and scrape before them?"
Frankie gave him a knowing look. "I take it you're not religious?"
Toji smirked. "Let's just say gods in my world weren't worth much."
Frankie nodded. "You're not alone in thinking that. But in White Star, faith isn't just belief—it's power."
He pointed at the first figure on the scroll, a radiant being crowned in golden flames.
"The God of Light. Those who worship him wield divine energy, capable of purging darkness itself."
His finger moved to another—an ethereal woman wreathed in mist.
"The God of Rain. Her followers control water, from gentle streams to raging storms."
One by one, he went through them: the God of the Forest, whose believers could command nature; the God of Wind, who granted speed and flight; the God of Thunder, whose power crackled through the heavens; and finally, the God of Fire, whose flames could reduce entire armies to ash.
"Magic isn't some neutral force in this world," Frankie continued. "It's given. And it's taken. The gods decide who is worthy."
Toji leaned forward. "And if you don't worship any of them?"
Frankie hesitated. "Then your power is… unnatural."
Toji's eyes narrowed. "Unnatural?"
"There are whispers of those who reject the gods completely," Frankie said, lowering his voice. "They can still use magic, but it twists into something else—something outside the gods' control."
Toji tapped his fingers against the table. "Sounds like the gods don't like competition."
Frankie smirked. "You catch on fast."
Toji sat back, staring at the flickering candle between them.
"You said magic is tied to faith. But what if someone—hypothetically—was powerful without faith at all?"
Frankie studied him, then said carefully, "Then they would be feared."
A heavy silence filled the room.
For the first time, Frankie looked at Toji not with curiosity, but with something else—recognition.
"You're one of them, aren't you?"
Toji didn't answer.
Instead, he reached out, plucked the candle from the table, and crushed the flame between his fingers.
Toji leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "Speaking of it, I heard people calling demons while coming here. What's that about?"
Frankie adjusted his glasses, sighing as he reached for an old scroll. The parchment was brittle, its edges frayed by time. He unrolled it carefully, revealing faded ink drawings of distorted human-like figures. "Ah… the so-called demons."
He tapped the illustration with two fingers. "These are what the people of White Star believe to be the lost ones—unbelievers who have abandoned their faith. It is said that when a person turns away from the gods completely, they forsake their own humanity. Their souls, no longer bound by divine favor, become corrupted, turning them into something… else."
Toji raised an eyebrow. "Something else? You mean they just… stop being human?"
Frankie nodded. "That's what the scriptures say. The transformation doesn't happen instantly. At first, unbelievers just lose their magic. Without a god's blessing, their ability to wield divine energy vanishes. But over time, their very bodies begin to change. The faithful believe they become servants of the dead, consumed by the darkness that opposes the gods."
Toji scoffed. "Sounds like religious fear-mongering to me. 'Believe or be damned'—classic."
Frankie smiled faintly. "I expected you to say that. But you must understand—this belief has been passed down for generations. Entire wars have been fought over it."
Toji's expression remained unreadable. "And what do these 'demons' look like?"
Frankie pushed the scroll closer. The faded drawing showed figures with elongated limbs, hollow eyes, and twisted features. Their mouths were stretched wide, as if screaming in eternal agony. Clawed hands reached out from shadowed bodies.
"This is how they are depicted in religious texts," Frankie explained. "According to stories, they are drawn to death, thriving in battlefields and graveyards. Some say they feed on souls."
Toji tapped his fingers against the wooden table. "And you believe this?"
Frankie hesitated. "I believe that the world fears what it does not understand."
Toji's lips curled slightly. "A scholar's answer. You're saying it could be true, or it could be a way to keep people obedient."
Frankie exhaled. "Maybe both."
Toji leaned forward. "Tell me—has anyone actually seen one? A real demon, not just stories or paintings?"
Frankie lowered his voice. "There are whispers… accounts of soldiers and wanderers encountering something not quite human. But it is difficult to separate truth from myth."
Toji stared at the scroll, his mind working. "So, if I stop believing in your gods, I'll become one of these things?"
Frankie shrugged. "That is the claim. But I don't think it's that simple."
Toji stood, walking toward the window. The town outside was still bustling despite the late hour. Merchants packed up their stalls, children ran between buildings, and soldiers patrolled the streets. He watched them, wondering how many lived in fear of becoming something they didn't understand.
"People are afraid of losing power," he muttered. "If magic is tied to belief, then rejecting it means weakness. Maybe that's what they really fear—not turning into demons, but losing what makes them strong."
Frankie studied him. "You think strength defines humanity?"
Toji smirked. "It does for me."
Frankie sighed, rolling the scroll back up. "Well, you should be careful with that mindset. Strength alone won't protect you from what's out there."
Toji turned, his gaze sharp. "And what exactly is 'out there'?"
Frankie hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "Perhaps it's time you saw for yourself."