Era of the Demon And Angels

Her tiny lips parted slightly, and in a soft, almost breathless voice, she murmured—

"Pwetty…"

Her childish voice was filled with innocence and quiet wonder as she basked in Nimfa's presence, as if seeing something beautiful for the first time.

Nimfa's heart clenched.

She gently brushed a teary eye of the girl's face, her smile never faltering. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice full of warmth.

The beastkin hesitated again before slowly, timidly pointing to herself.

"M-Miru…"

Her voice was so small, barely above a whisper, but it carried a sense of quiet determination. It was the first time she had spoken her name freely—without chains, without orders.

Nimfa's smile brightened.

"Miru. That's a beautiful name."

Miru flushed slightly, gripping the fabric of Nimfa's dress tightly.

Then Nimfa turned slightly, her expression still gentle but more playful as she gestured towards Noir.

"And this gloomy guy over here?" She smirked. "This is Noir."

Miru peeked from behind Nimfa's shoulder, her eyes cautiously shifting toward Noir.

The moment their eyes met, she stiffened.

Noir, still crouching, stared at her in silence. His crimson eyes—cold, piercing—held no immediate warmth.

Miru flinched, hiding her face against Nimfa's back.

Nimfa chuckled. "I know, I know, he looks scary, right?" She leaned in close, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "But between you and me… he's really not that bad. Just a little grumpy."

Noir let out a heavy sigh. "Again, I can hear you."

Nimfa only giggled as Miru hesitantly peeked out again, still clutching Nimfa's sleeve.

Noir, now fully aware of how cautious the girl was, shifted slightly. He took a deep breath and softened his tone—just a little.

"…I won't hurt you."

Miru blinked.

The words felt foreign to her.

Not because she didn't understand them—but because no one had ever said them to her before.

Noir, sensing the weight of her silence, simply stood up and turned away. He wasn't the type to coax trust out of someone.

Trust had to be built.

And for the first time, as Miru watched him step back instead of forward, she wondered…

Maybe this demon wasn't as frightening as she thought.

A Few Days Ago

"Oi! Hurry up and load those slaves!"

A rough male voice bellowed across the dimly lit slave camp, his tone laced with impatience. The crackling of fire illuminated the cruel faces of the traders, their shadows stretching across the trembling bodies of their captives.

"Yes, sir! OI! MOVE IT!" another man barked as the sharp snap of a whip lashed through the air.

SMACK!

A piercing cry echoed.

The victims were children—young, fragile souls bound in chains. Their clothes were tattered, their faces hollow from starvation. Among them were elf children, a rare sight in the Mortal Realm, making them a highly prized commodity in the black market.

A young elf girl sobbed quietly, her thin frame shaking as the man's whip coiled around her back again.

Miru, hidden inside a large wooden barrel, clutched her knees tightly to her chest, her small body trembling. Through the tiny gap in the wood, she could see everything—the pain, the helplessness, the despair carved into the faces of the others.

She wanted to scream.

But she knew if she made a sound, she'd be next.

Outside, the slaver continued his brutal count.

"Hmm… How many were in this batch again?" the whip-wielding man muttered, scratching his unshaven chin. His dull eyes scanned the terrified faces before him, oblivious to Miru's absence.

A second trader called from the front, "Oi, Jhon! Did you load them all up?"

Jhon frowned, his gut telling him something was off. But with a tired shrug, he dismissed the thought. "Whatever. Yeah, they're all in."

"Then let's move!"

With a sharp crack of the reins, the carriage rumbled forward, its iron-barred cages creaking under the weight of the captives. The whimpers of children were drowned by the sound of hooves pounding against the dirt road.

Miru didn't wait.

As soon as the slavers were distracted, she pushed open the barrel lid and slipped out, darting toward the darkness of the vast plains.

Her tiny feet pounded against the cold ground, her breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

"Run. Run. Run."

She didn't know where she was going. She didn't know if she'd survive.

She only knew one thing—

She refused to go back.

A Few Days Later

Miru's escape had come at a cost.

Her lips were dry and cracked, her tiny body weakened from hunger and exhaustion. Each step felt heavier than the last, her vision swimming as she stumbled forward across the empty plains.

She clutched her stomach as it let out a weak, aching growl.

"I-I'm hungry…" she whispered, rubbing her small belly.

Her fox-like ears drooped, and her tail, once fluffy, now hung limp behind her. Her amber eyes, once filled with curiosity and life, had turned dull and empty.

Her legs gave out beneath her.

With a soft thud, she collapsed into a patch of bushes.

"Mama…"

She barely had the strength to say the word as her vision blurred. In the distance, she saw her mother's face—smiling, warm, safe.

"Mama… I'm sorry…"

Her eyes fluttered shut.

Darkness.

A voice cut through her unconscious state.

"Nimfa! I need those sticks to start the fire!"

A loud voice. A deep voice. A voice she didn't recognize.

Her ears twitched. Her small fingers clenched weakly against the dirt.

Slowly, she forced her heavy eyelids open.

Through the leaves, she saw them—two figures standing near a campfire. One was tall and dark, his presence imposing like a shadow against the flames. The other… golden, soft, and radiant, as if the moonlight itself had taken shape.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"A… Demon and an Angel? Together?"

Panic surged through her malnourished body, but when she tried to move—

Nothing.

Her body wouldn't obey her.

She was too weak to even crawl.

In the Present*

And then—

A loud growl echoed.

"Growlll—"

Her stomach protested loudly, betraying her.

Mortified, Miru's fox ears flattened against her head, and she clutched her ragged cloth tightly, as if she could hide from them.

A brief silence followed.

Both Nimfa and Noir heard it loud and clear.

Miru's face turned crimson with embarrassment as she tried to shrink into herself.

Noir, who had been standing with his arms crossed, let out a small sigh.

Without hesitation, he patted the top of her messy hair, his voice shifting into something unexpectedly soft.

"I'll cook something for you, so hold on a little, okay?"

Miru froze.

Her amber eyes widened slightly. She hadn't expected gentleness.

His hand was big, warm, and unlike the slavers' rough, cruel grips, his touch carried no pain.

The beastkin girl, who had only known fear, only known cruelty, only known hunger—was being offered kindness.

Her tiny hands tightened around her rags as her throat burned.

For the first time in days, a small hope flickered in her hollow chest.

Noir walked toward the makeshift butchering area, his movements sharp and efficient. With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved ingredients from his dimensional pouch, the air shimmering faintly as supplies materialized in his hands.

Noir's POV

"Hmm… what should I make?"

His eyes flicked toward Miru. She sat stiffly beside Nimfa, her frail body barely holding itself together, her amber eyes darting between them with a mix of uncertainty and silent longing.

"She hasn't eaten in days… she needs something soft, easy to swallow."

He sighed, rolling up his sleeves as he picked up his knife.

"Tendlium stew should do."

The blade glided through the wild boar meat, cutting it into perfectly equal pieces. His hands moved with precision—muscle memory from years of surviving in harsh lands. The rhythmic sound of chopping filled the quiet camp.

Satisfied with his preparation, Noir slid the excess meat back into his dimensional pouch, the shimmer swallowing it whole.

Then, with a simple flick of his hand, he summoned a black iron pan, placing it over the fire.

As soon as the meat sizzled against the heated surface, a rich, savory aroma filled the air.

The scent of searing boar meat, combined with fragrant herbs and melted fat, wafted toward Nimfa and Miru, teasing their senses.

Nimfa, who had been idly running her fingers through her hair, paused mid-motion.

"Mmm… that smells delicious." Her golden eyes flickered with interest, the corners of her lips curving into a small smile.

Beside her, Miru sat frozen.

Her fox-like ears twitched, flicking at the alluring scent in the air. Her small tail, once limp, began to wag hesitantly.

But despite her body's reaction, she didn't move.

Once the meat was perfectly browned, Noir poured a rich, herbal broth into the pan, letting it simmer. The fragrant steam curled into the night air, blending with the flickering glow of the campfire.

He took out three wooden bowls and placed them carefully on the ground.

A thick, golden stew filled each one, the tender meat floating alongside softened root vegetables. He placed a side of bread next to each serving—freshly baked from Nimfa's stash of supplies.

With practiced ease, Noir set the bowls in front of them. The warmth of the meal radiated against the cool night air.

Miru's small fingers twitched.

The sight of the steaming bowl in front of her felt… unreal.

This wasn't scraps. This wasn't half-eaten leftovers tossed onto a filthy plate.

This was a real meal.

Nimfa smiled gently, nudging Miru's bowl slightly closer.

"Go ahead. It's yours."

Miru stared.

Her stomach twisted painfully. She wanted it—she wanted it more than anything.

But…

A deep-rooted fear made her hesitate.

Her amber eyes flickered toward Noir.

She knew food was never free. What if this was a trick?

Would he take it away? Would he hit her for even thinking she could have it?

Would she be punished if she ate too fast?

Her trembling hands remained in her lap, her body paralyzed between hunger and fear.

Noir, who had been observing quietly, let out an exasperated sigh.

Before she could react, he scooped her up with ease, lifting her off the ground.

"H-Hyah!" Miru let out a startled squeak as Noir effortlessly placed her onto his lap, directly in front of him.

Her small frame tensed, eyes darting around in shock.

She wasn't used to being handled so gently.

"Eat," Noir ordered, his deep voice firm but not unkind. "Slowly. You haven't eaten in days."

Miru sat frozen, her tiny body rigid.

Then, Noir grabbed a spoon, scooped up a small piece of meat and broth, and held it toward her.

"Here."

Miru's throat tightened.

She hesitated, her tiny hands curling into fists, uncertainty clouding her fragile expression.

But when she looked up—she met his crimson eyes.

There was no cruelty there. No force.

Just… waiting.

A strange warmth spread through her chest.

Tears welled in her amber eyes, but she parted her lips.

The first bite melted against her tongue.

Her eyes widened instantly.

The stew was rich and warm, the meat so tender it practically dissolved in her mouth. The soft, fragrant broth coated her tongue, each sip sending waves of warmth through her frail body.

The bread—soft, slightly crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside—soaked up the broth perfectly, making each bite effortless.

It was the best thing she had ever tasted.

She barely realized it when the first tear slipped down her cheek.

"It's… delicious…" she whispered, her small voice shaking with raw emotion.

Nimfa, who had been watching silently, felt her chest tighten.

This wasn't just a meal for Miru.

This was the first time she had ever eaten something freely, without fear.

This was the first time she had ever tasted food that wasn't given as a cruel reward for obedience.

This was the first time she had ever been taken care of.

As Miru continued to eat, tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't stop.

She mumbled words of gratitude between bites, her voice barely understandable through the food in her mouth.

Noir simply continued feeding her without saying much, his movements uncharacteristically patient.

Nimfa smiled softly.

Her golden eyes shimmered in the firelight as she watched the tiny girl, once afraid and trembling, finally eat without fear.

For the first time, Miru looked like a child.