The price is good."

A figure emerged from the forest path. Clad in armor, with a proud expression, head tilted upwards, and calm movements. One of the villagers, who had been watching her as if longingly, ran up to her.

"You are finally here, my lady. We thought you wouldn't come."

The woman dismounted. She looked around at the terrified faces of the peasants and said,

"A good paladin, man, always appears at the right place, at the right time. Now tell me what it is." The boy who found me in Wentarbol said it was a serious matter.

The woman's name was Klara and she was a paladin. Well, now most of you are asking, "Who is a paladin?" I would say paladins are people dedicated to fighting evil. They are most often recruited from among priests and young non-Catholics studying in temples. A paladin has one goal: to destroy evil and spread goodness. An extremely noble goal, yet incredibly difficult to achieve. However, Klara, who grew up surrounded by soldiers and warriors, wasn't intimidated by this at all. She loved danger and was perfectly suited for the profession. Ultimately, paladinship can't be called a profession because, as some say, it's "a holy mission and a great responsibility." Whatever it was, Klara was good at it. She commanded respect with her gaze alone, and she mastered the use of weapons to perfection. More than one bandit, murderer, and other criminal had fallen at her hands. However, her greatest challenge was fighting the damned—sometimes called monsters.

"Over there, across the river," said the peasant, pointing to the forest on the other side, "in the forest, the Devil lives.

" "The Devil?" Klara asked in surprise

. "Yes, the Devil. In the past, you could go to the forest to pick mushrooms and raspberries, but now the Devil resides there. He eats anyone who ventures into the forest. No one has ever returned alive, but they say he's as big as a barn and has razor-sharp teeth.

" "If no one has ever returned, how do you know what he looks like?"

The peasant fell silent. He thought for a moment, then said,

"That's what they say. The mayor says that. He says that he's He knows nothing about devils, but he knows more than anyone else, and he ordered us to feed the goats to the Devil.

"And what?

" "And the devil ate the goats and those who fed them to him.

" "You're on to something. Isn't this just a common scab or a rotter?

" "No, no, madam. The devil is cruel. A few days ago, five of them went to deal with him. They haven't returned yet. I beg you, good woman, save us from this plague. For now, the beast is in the forest, but what will happen when it comes out? It will kill us all.

" "Okay, I'll see what I can do. But for now, take me to that mayor. Since he's so informed, maybe he'll know something more."

"Thank you, dear lady, thank you very much," the peasant rejoiced, then grabbed the reins. "The lady mounts her horse, we will lead."

The village wasn't large. And what the woman had last heard from King Hadrian, that poverty and misery had been eradicated from Jargorn, didn't quite match the reality. Small children dressed in rags played carefree in the mud, the surrounding area reeked of mustiness and unwashed flesh, and here and there, peasants lay sleeping with pigs. They reached their destination.

A large cottage appeared before Paldaynka's eyes. In the cloister were two rotten posts supporting a leaky roof. The cottage had a window so large and wide that it could have been mistaken for a doorway. The inscription carved on the door read: Berner Kunof - mayor of the village of Koniozady. Two shillings for the advice.

The house looked old and neglected, yet it contrasted sharply with the peasants' mud huts.

They went inside. In the room, a man sat on a chair (which was the only piece of furniture nearby). However, he was so overgrown and worn that he could have been mistaken for a waterman. He looked at the guests intently, then, spitting heavily into his beard, said,

"What devil brings a woman to my door?"

Klara wanted to react instinctively. Instinctively means punching the old man in the face. However, she was stopped by the peasant's significant gesture and one of the regulations stating that "People are killed only as a last resort." Klara was one of those paladins for whom any insult was a last resort. She took a deep breath and, adopting the most pleasant tone of voice possible, said:

"Greetings, worthy sir. Exactly: Devil, and as a detail - Devil. Do you know what devilry is lurking in the forest?" The smile never left her face.

"With a butt and size like that, you're not fit to be a servant girl, are you, guys?"

Chuckles and smiles echoed around the room. She couldn't resist, and her friendly expression automatically fell from her face. She grabbed the old man by the chin and yanked him back with all her might. The mayor leaned forward and fell from his chair. She put a fist clad in a studded glove to his throat.

"Listen, you decrepit pervert." I'm here to kill a demon, but I can afford other sacrifices along the way. Now shut up and answer the questions.

The mayor paled, and the room became strangely empty. He cleared his throat and nodded in agreement.

"Listen: Do you know what kind of monster is plaguing your people?

" "Two shillings for the advice," the old man said timidly.

"Damn it," the paladin screamed. "Not only did I come to your backwater, but you're setting me conditions! I don't give a damn about helping them!

" "What about two shillings?"

Thanks to this question, the mayor convinced himself that Klara was an excellent hunter. From that moment on, he too had a certain reflex – whenever he saw someone resembling a paladin, he bolted the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX She

stormed out of the cottage, furious.

"Lady, Lady!" a familiar peasant shouted. "Oh, please, don't leave us, we beg you!

" "I've had enough. I came from a big city to this sunken hole, for a bunch of stinking peasants who still insult me. Give me a horse, quickly. I'm in a hurry to get back to civilization."

The man fell to his knees, clinging to her legs.

"Lady, forgive us! We have small children, a sick wife, and the cows need milking, and the pigs need feeding. What if the devil devours me? Who will feed the family then? Who?"

She looked at him. Now he looked truly depressing and pitiful.

"Fine," she replied calmly. "So be it." But I'm only doing this for you. Where's the bridge?

"Over there," the man pointed, "how can I repay you?"

Klara clipped her sword to her belt, smiling to herself.

"We'll talk about that later."

She left her horse and crossed the broken bridge, which was essentially one giant termite swarm. "I'm coming for you, devil," she thought. "Your doom is coming.

"

The forest wasn't much different from any Klara had seen before. The path was extremely sandy and very narrow. Here and there, one could spot wrecked wagons or caravans, evidence of bandits' activity. Or the devil's. But why, in common sense, would the devil need gold? The treetops gradually became so expansive that sometimes it was semi-darkness, even darkness. After an hour's walk, the road ended. Seeing no other solution, she began to push her way through the undergrowth into the depths of the forest. This forest possessed one special feature: the grass growing there was incredibly lush, even as tall as Klara herself in places. The forest must have been incredibly old.

Just as she was about to deviate from her current course "through the nightshade," something suddenly rustled in the grass. She instinctively drew her sword. It was approaching rapidly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the top of the creature's head peeking out from the grass. She prepared to attack. She slashed at the same moment the monster leaped out of the undergrowth. Her blade collided with its hard skull, pushing both combatants to the ground. She stood up as quickly as she could, examining the beast. The creature wasn't very tall—roughly the height of a human. It had red skin and red eyes. Two large ram's horns were on its bald head. The monster also possessed a row of fangs protruding from its face-like mouth, and was undoubtedly a sought-after devil. As Clara was about to finish off the dazed demon, it spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Well, well, well, and this is how I'm treated?

" "You say so?" she asked. A paladin, because as we know, the damned didn't speak.

"I'm not squealing. And you just acquired the miraculous gift of understanding demons who use pig language. And what do you say to that?

" "Don't allow yourself, devil. Why do you torment these people? What did they do

to you?" "What kind of devil am I? Call me Rawlet. Why do I torment them? They force themselves into my mouth, that's why. Or rather, he himself forces them into it.

" "Who is that? What 'he'?

" The devil seemed not to hear the questions.

"So beautiful, so delicate. You've changed. So much. From a bunch of roses to its thorns."

"How can you know what I was like and what you're talking about?

" "We damned have our secrets. "

"I don't know where you got such information... How dare you!? How dare you speak to me like that, you worm!"

The devil stood up, baring his teeth, and the tone of his voice changed noticeably.

"And by what right did you ensnare this one?" boyfriend? What right did you have to tell him you loved him and valued him, only to break off your engagement? What right did you have to toy with his feelings? What?! Tell me!

"How... how do you know that? Only one person could have told you that, and she certainly doesn't know you. Surely..."

The creature straightened ominously and then began full of hatred

, "Because I am that person. Look how my sick love for you was punished. I remember perfectly well the day I knelt before you with flowers in hand, and what did you do? You ran away! Shame and ridicule turned me into this beast. I had to hide in this forest and make a deal with Berner to survive. Because of you, I am forced to live in such degradation! Did I say live? No. This is not life. Once beautiful, rich, young, and now what?! A pathetic creature, incapable of doing anything for himself. It's your fault!

" "Oh great creator," whispered Clara, dropping the sword. "Tom is Really you? What happened to you? How did this happen and what do you have in common with Berner?

"As usual—hundreds of questions. Because of you, I had to make a deal with him: I raid caravans, giving him gold, and in exchange, he sends me villagers or game every so often. I give him the money, and he gives me my life. At first, I cursed fate for punishing me like this. But after a while, I realized it was you who brought me to this state. You! And now you're going to pay for it.

" "Tom, calm down. That was a long time ago, and anyway, after all that chaos, I joined the brotherhood. Forget about those times. They'll never come back."

"Exactly: 'He won't come back'! But now the same fate I cursed has sent me a gift in your form. He gave you to me on a plate. He gave me revenge.

" "What do you want to do? What do you demand?

" "Revenge. And although I once loved you, hatred now fills my mind. Now I'm guided only by it, because it's all I have left. You will pay for your betrayal with your life." The demon's red eyes glowed in the semi-darkness like two candles in the darkness. His claws slowly began to clench and unclench as if gasping for air.

"It's not wise. I know—I'll help you. I'll take you to the temple, and they'll surely advise you there...

" "No. Too late. All this time, sitting in this hell, I've been seeking and craving revenge. And now I'm supposed to lose it? No."

"Tom..." Klara moaned pleadingly.

"No. I won't let this opportunity slip away! You'll feel the pain!" With those words, he lunged at her so quickly and so fiercely. She hadn't had time to react. A large claw scratched the woman's cheek in a nasty way. He fell to the ground, clutching his face.

"And what? Do you feel that? Right? Do you feel that?!" he asked with a stubborn, manic tone.

She rose. Tears streamed down her cheek. But they weren't tears of pain. Rather, they were tears of regret. Regret for a sick love. Another tear fell to the ground as she unsheathed her sword. Tom hunched over, preparing another attack. She raised the blade slightly above her head, assuming a defensive position. For a time, they remained frozen in their poses. During that "time," a thousand memories of Tom flashed through Clara's mind. Shared laughter, fun, joy. Walks and games together. What was Tom thinking? Nobody knew. Or maybe...

Suddenly, a jump, the flash of a blade, the mark of a claw, spilled blood, a cry of pain. Clara opened her eyes. The headless body of the devil, or rather Tom, lay on the ground. His head rested at her feet. She dropped the sword. She cried. She cried long and loudly over her behavior. Now she truly realized who the real monster was. No, not Tom—but she. She herself.

People later said it was the devil who wept over her fate. But it wasn't the devil. It certainly wasn't her....

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She no longer cared. She didn't care that all these sacrifices were the reason for Mayor Berner's greed. She didn't care that she had a wound on her cheek large enough to easily hold half her little finger. She walked carrying Tom's head in a sack.

When she crossed the river, a familiar peasant noticed her.

"Lady, lady, what's wrong with you? What, is the devil dead?

" "Dead," she replied, walking on, ignoring him. The farmer didn't budge

. "And the payment? Lady, whatever you want: we'll give you money, we'll give you cattle, and you'll find a pig."

Clara gave him only a fleeting glance, the peasant didn't understand the allusion. She mounted her horse, turning to him.

"I don't want payment. Money or..." she bit back a smile, "pig. Let's just say it was a personal battle."

He nodded. Just as she was about to ride away, she suddenly stopped her mount. She stood for a moment, as if considering, then spoke. "

Peasant?

" "Yes, madam?

" "I have only one request," she said, tossing him the bag containing the head. "Deliver this to the mayor and tell him that if it's not enough, I'll meet him again. He'll know what I mean.

" "Very well, madam. I'm going to the mayor's office soon. Perhaps we'll meet again someday. Who knows what fate will bring."

She smiled and waved to the man.

"I hope," she thought as she rode towards civilization, "that fate won't be so cruel. I hope.