Long, long ago, a young demon girl wandered into a certain village.
Newly born, the girl followed her demonic instincts and searched for food.
What she found was a farmhouse standing at the edge of the village.
Her small shadow slipped into the apple orchard cultivated by that farm, but it didn't take long before the farmer and his wife noticed her.
However, this was exactly as the girl had intended.
Born in the shape of a cute human child, the demon girl instinctively understood how to make use of her appearance.
Feigning the role of a starving orphan, she begged the couple for food.
Dressed in tattered clothes to arouse their sympathy, she planned to eat the couple once they came close. That was her intention.
But the couple turned out to be far more cautious than she expected and did not approach her.
Even so, her plan did not completely fail. From a safe distance, they tossed her a few unsold apples and offered them to her.
Left with no choice, the girl took a bite of an apple.
In that instant, her demeanor changed entirely.
Forgetting her original plan and all pretenses, she devoured the apple with reckless abandon.
She even forgot the taste her instincts craved—its sweet and sour flavor captivated her completely.
Seeing her eat their apples so plainly and with such delight, the couple naturally let down their guard.
For the time being, they decided to let the girl stay beneath a tree at the edge of the orchard.
They laid bedding inside a wooden crate large enough for an adult to fit in, creating a minimal sleeping space so she would not suffer. Beside her as she slept, they placed carefully cultivated apples so she could eat.
Even so, they did not bring her into their house.
This was because the couple still harbored a minimum level of caution toward her.
No matter how adorable she looked, it was obvious at a glance—one look at her horns was enough to know she was not human.
One night, after some time had passed, the couple talked things over.
No matter how hard they tried, they could not have children.
Even when a traveling fortune-teller had once visited the village and told their fortunes, the cruel result was the same—they would never be blessed with children.
Still, they had not given up on that dream.
And now, as if by divine revelation, a cute demon girl had come to live in their orchard.
It was only natural that the longing smoldering within them would flare up once more.
Eventually, the wife spoke up at last.
"Let's make that child our daughter."
Though he shared her feelings, the husband rejected the idea.
"She's a demon," he said.
Letting her stay in the orchard was one thing, but bringing her into their house was absolutely out of the question. He tried to calm his wife and reason with her as coolly as he could.
Though they understood each other's arguments, neither of them would bend.
Just as it seemed their discussion might turn into a quarrel—
A roar that sounded like a monster's cry, accompanied by a thunderous shaking of the ground, echoed from the direction of the orchard.
Startled, the couple jumped to their feet and rushed outside.
—But there hadn't been any monster attacks on the orchard recently!?
Indeed, thanks to the recent decrease in damage caused by monsters, the couple had grown comfortable—and careless.
When they hurried to the orchard, an unbelievable sight awaited them.
There stood a monster as large as a giant tree.
And before it, battered yet unyielding, stood the back of that very same girl.
Dodging the monster's massive arms as they swung down, the girl wielded a sword that had somehow appeared in her hands, skillfully carving wounds into the creature's body.
With movements just like those of the village's guards, she endured its attacks, her body covered in injuries, and finally succeeded in driving her sword into the monster's head.
The monster collapsed with a deafening crash, and the girl fell from its body as well, crumpling to the ground.
Panicked, the couple rushed to her side.
She had lost consciousness and was already asleep.
Yet despite her peaceful sleeping face, the sight of her small, wounded body made the couple realize the truth, tears streaming down their faces.
The reason the orchard had suffered no damage all this time was because this child had been protecting it from monsters.
Because the monsters that had appeared before were not very strong, the girl had driven them off so easily that the couple never noticed. Only now, after a powerful monster had attacked and left her covered in wounds, did they finally understand.
Both husband and wife embraced the demon girl, crying as they held her.
"Thank you for protecting our precious orchard,"
"And we're sorry we didn't realize it sooner."
At last, the couple made their decision.
They would bring this child into their home and raise her as their daughter.
They would do their utmost to persuade the villagers and the guards, somehow convincing them to accept her.
No matter what ending awaited them, no matter what hardships lay ahead, they resolved to have no regrets.
In the end, through the couple's tireless efforts, the demon girl was accepted by everyone in the village.
From then on, she walked proudly in the sunlight, not only within the orchard and the couple's home.
Sometimes she played with the village children, sometimes she watched the training of the stationed guards, and sometimes the neighborhood elders gave her sweets.
Before long, the villagers came to accept the sight of the demon girl blending naturally into village life as something perfectly ordinary.
Whenever they watched the girl like that, the couple felt once again that they had been right to take her in as their daughter.
The fact that she was a demon no longer mattered to them in the slightest.
All that mattered now was that their daughter was unbearably precious to them.
—
There was only one thing that saddened them.
The girl had still never shown them a truly human smile.
They loved her deeply regardless, but even so, they wished that someday she would smile at them just as naturally as they did.
—
However, that wish was never to be fulfilled.
The village was swept up in the flames of war and engulfed in fire.
Their home and orchard, too, were burned by those who invaded the village, and within those flames, the couple's bodies became forever motionless.
The daughter returned to the house where no living humans remained.
With no expression on her face, she looked down at the two who would never move again.
In the end, their wish was not granted, and the daughter never once smiled until the very end.
Yet even without changing her expression,
she did not try to leave their side inside the burning house.
Even though the flames had already spread throughout the building and there was no escape left.
The girl showed no sign of panic. Slowly, she sat down beside the fallen couple and refused to move from there.
A human husband and wife, and their demon daughter.
In the end, that family never parted, disappearing together into the flames of the house.
—
"Well then, that's the end."
"Eeh? There's no more, Grandma?"
"I'm sorry, Ange. That's all I ever heard from my mother—your great-grandmother."
"So what happened to the three of them in the end? Did they all go somewhere together!?"
"Well… I'm sure they're still together somewhere, living happily even now."
"Hehe… I hope so."
—
Back then, when I was still a child.
Even after hearing such an old tale from my grandmother, the idea that the three people in the story had died never once crossed my mind. I simply assumed that the couple would soon wake up, escape the burning house together with their daughter, and go on to live happily somewhere else.
At the time, I didn't truly understand what death meant, so such thoughts never formed in the first place.
That was why, when I first heard the story, all I felt was a faint tightness in my chest—nothing more. I barely gave it any thought. Perhaps even as a child, somewhere deep down, I had sensed the truth and unconsciously felt the bitterness of the ending.
But as I grew older, that vague feeling gradually became something I could clearly recognize.
And then I realized just how warm—and how heartbreaking—the story my grandmother had told me truly was.
I still remember the tears and the suffocating pain that suddenly welled up inside me when I understood it for the first time.
Even now, I don't know whether the troubled look on my grandmother's face back then was exasperation at my lack of understanding, or concern for the day when I would finally come to understand.
Still, I can't help but feel a little regret that I was never able to share these feelings with her.
—
But there is something I find even more regrettable than that.
According to the story, all three members of that family died—but now, right before my eyes, stood someone who might be able to deny that very fact.
And the grandmother with whom I could have shared this truth is no longer in this world.
◇
Well then, despite having told the story up to this point, the truth was that Ange's first impression of Linie was not particularly good.
Just when she thought Linie had saved her from being attacked by demons, the next moment Linie turned her sword toward her instead.
When Linie stopped at the last second and began paying attention to the apple orchard beyond, Ange felt a spark of hope that this might be the demon from the old tale. With that hope, she spoke to Linie.
After somehow managing to learn her name, Ange immediately hurried to the orchard, picked apples ready for harvest, and rushed back to Linie.
"Um, I know this is sudden, but… would you please eat this apple?"
Holding out the apple with both hands, Ange bowed deeply and begged her.
These apples had been raised together with the village children, nurtured all the way to this point. In fact, the reason she had started growing apples here in the first place was because of the story her grandmother had told her—the tale of the "Demon of the Apple Orchard."
The thought that the very demon from that story might be standing right in front of her made it impossible for her to stay still.
"..."
Linie glanced sideways at the apple for a moment, then gently snatched it from Ange's hands and took a bite.
The instant she heard the sound of chewing, Ange lifted her face.
At the same time, tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
The demon of the apple orchard was eating their apples. Just that alone made all her hardships feel rewarded.
But that feeling vanished in an instant.
"…It tastes like shit."
"Huh?"
At Linie's blunt first comment, Ange froze, her mouth hanging open in shock.
"It lacks acidity, the texture's bad, and it's kind of dry. You can tell at a glance it wasn't grown at the proper temperature."
Ignoring the stunned Ange, Linie continued firing off harsh criticisms one after another.
After handing back the half-eaten apple, Linie immediately walked past Ange and headed toward the orchard.
"Ah—wait!?"
Ange hurried after Linie as she strode briskly toward the apple trees.
The children who had been hiding in the orchard scattered in fear as Linie approached, but she paid them no mind.
Upon reaching the orchard, Linie surveyed the apple trees, the soil, the air—every detail—before finally declaring without hesitation:
"The soil condition's bad too. I'm amazed you managed to grow anything at all like this. The only thing you did decently was monster prevention."
"Ah— Yes…"
Turning toward Ange, Linie spoke flatly, her face completely expressionless.
"So, to sum it up—why did you think it was a good idea to make me eat something like this? More importantly, how do you people usually eat this stuff?"
"Well… um, we have this spell here called 'Magic That Makes Fruit Taste Three Times Better,' and…"
Hesitating, Ange answered as she pulled out a single grimoire.
"…So basically, a cheap trick for fooling children."
Linie narrowed her eyes and muttered the words—not angrily, but with sheer exasperation. At that point, something inside Ange finally reached its limit.
(Wh-what is with this demon woman!?)
On the surface, Ange forced a strained smile, but inside she was far from calm.
She could accept the criticism itself.
If this demon truly was the daughter from that famous apple orchard, then someone who had grown up with experts would naturally possess far more knowledge, skill, and experience than they ever could.
"…Next time."
"…Huh?"
"Next time, I won't lose. I'll grow better apples—apples that'll make you smile! So please… wait until then!!"
She hadn't meant to turn it into a contest at all, yet the words came out defiantly.
Linie stared back at Ange, who was making her declaration with tearful eyes, her gaze cold and indifferent as ever. That attitude only deepened Ange's frustration.
The wish to make their daughter smile—a wish even that couple had never been able to fulfill.
If she could meet her, Ange wanted to draw out that smile with apples they themselves had grown. That was her faint, cherished dream.
"…Hmph."
After squinting at Ange for a moment, as if pondering her words, Linie turned her gaze back toward the orchard.
Ange tilted her head in confusion—
—and then, in the next instant—
"—Mimic Trace, activation."
At the same time those words were spoken, a sword suddenly materialized above Ange's head, plunged downward, pierced straight through the grimoire in her hands, and pinned it to the ground.
"Wha—?"
Too slow to react, Ange stared down in shock at the grimoire she had dropped.
Then, an even greater tragedy struck.
The blade of the sword burst into flames, which quickly engulfed the book.
"Aah—!?"
Ange cried out in alarm.
She hurried to grab at least the grimoire, but the heat radiating from the sword repelled her.
The blade, imbued with a special magical effect that generated flames, reduced the grimoire to ashes where it stood.
"Ah… ah… the grimoire… the spell that makes things taste better… how could you…"
Ange collapsed weakly, murmuring in despair.
Linie stepped closer, looked down at her, and said:
"If you want to grow truly delicious apples, the first thing you need to do is throw away that magical crutch. …You said you wanted me to eat them, right?"
"…Y-yes…"
"Then stand up."
"Huh—wah!?"
Grabbing Ange's hand without mercy, Linie forced her to her feet.
With Linie's face right in front of her, Ange could do nothing but stare, completely overwhelmed.
"I'll retrain you—and those brats behind you—from the ground up.
Truly delicious apples don't need tricks like that to taste good."
Despite her expressionless face, the sheer force of her presence left Ange no choice but to nod repeatedly.
And so, the days of Linie's apple-growing instruction for Ange and the others began.
That was how Ange and Linie came to spend their days together.
—
Several months passed after that.
It was frustrating to admit, but under Linie's precise guidance, Ange and the others had learned to cultivate apples good enough to sell in the village—without relying on the so-called "Magic That Makes Fruit Taste Three Times Better."
They installed temperature-regulating magic tools that Linie had produced from who-knows-where, replaced rain shelters with sturdier ones that let more sunlight through, and made many other improvements that frankly would not have been possible without Linie's involvement.
Thanks to all that, they were finally able to grow—and enjoy—far better apples.
Ange still vividly remembered the day they tasted the first apples born of those improvements, crying together with the children.
So this was what apples raised with true, authentic guidance tasted like.
She felt conflicted, wondering what on earth they had been growing all this time. It wasn't that their past efforts had been meaningless.
They were already accustomed to the physical labor of farming, so Linie rarely had to correct them there. Still, even in basic farm work, their skill didn't come close to hers, and at the time Ange had nearly lost her confidence altogether.
Even so, before she realized it, Linie's presence had become a natural part of Ange's and the children's daily lives.
Though Linie looked like a lovely young woman, she was curt and carried an air of constant lethargy, so the children initially hesitated to approach her. Still, their curiosity got the better of them—they secretly watched her archery training, or clasped hands together in excitement at her masterful farming techniques.
Naturally, this was always followed by Linie snapping at them in her blunt manner: "Don't just stare—get over here and help already."
To Ange, Linie had already become an indispensable part of everyday life.
"That said… using the apples we all grew together as archery targets feels a bit wrong, don't you think?" Ange remarked.
"…It's my choice. I didn't touch your share."
"Yes, I know, but… still!!"
Hiding her face behind a book from the study, Ange let out a sigh.
No matter how much she complained, she couldn't really say anything—she herself had been captivated by Linie's archery and joined in watching.
At the moment, they had finished selling apples in a nearby village, wrapped up the day's farm work, and while the children were playing in the chapel—
Ange and Linie were absorbed in reading inside the monastery's study.
As a nun, Ange was deciphering holy scriptures, while Linie, as a demon, was searching through texts related to the goddess's magic.
A human nun and a demon reading books about the goddess in the same room.
It was an abnormal sight in itself, yet Linie lingered there without a care, and Ange—who had once been hesitant to allow a demon into the study—had grown completely accustomed to it.
Ange had once heard from Linie that demons generally showed interest only in the magic they themselves created and refined, but she decided that exceptions must exist.
"…No good. I keep running into completely unrelated sections. I'm not interested in human philosophy right now."
Sitting atop a pile of books, Linie muttered lazily while gazing up at the ceiling.
The reason Linie had been frequenting the study like this was to search for materials related to the "Three Spears of the Goddess" she had mimicked.
If she could find anything, it might offer hints to improve her own creations—the "Pseudo–Three Spears of the Goddess" or the modified version known as the "Three Bundled Divine Spears."
That was why she pored over scriptures and books about the goddess.
In short, it was a very demon-like motive: to further refine her own magic.
"There's no helping it. The goddess's magic is, by nature, something that's discovered by deciphering passages like these—sentences that seem meaningless at first glance. The 'Three Spears of the Goddess' is a spell that was found relatively recently, so there still aren't many decoded passages that directly relate to it."
With a wry smile, Ange said this to Linie.
"By the way, which chapter are you reading right now?"
"…This one."
At Ange's curious question about what she was reading, Linie lazily moved only her arm and held out the book she had been reading, its pages still open.
"'Sin and Punishment,' is it…"
"I feel like I understand both concepts well enough, but this is full of nothing but complicated nonsense. I can't tell what it's actually trying to say."
"That's true… this one is…"
Maybe a bit too convoluted.
She could more or less grasp the literal meaning of the text, but would further deciphering really lead to the discovery of new goddess magic?
But that probably wasn't what Linie wanted to hear right now.
"…Put simply, it says that people who commit sins will inevitably be punished in some form. But the fact that punishment is delivered means that the goddess is properly watching over that person's actions. So, on the surface, it says that even those who are aware of their own sins will never be abandoned by the goddess. No matter what they have done, and no matter what kind of salvation or punishment awaits them, the goddess will always be watching over us."
"Now it makes even less sense. So in the end, it's the same thing that monk was saying, isn't it?"
As if to say she'd wasted her time listening, Linie slouched back.
Seeing this, Ange casually returned her gaze to the scripture she had been reading and read aloud a single passage.
"—'In essence, we are always alone.'"
Linie turned her face toward her at Ange's sudden words.
"You once said, didn't you, that demons are fundamentally individualistic and have no concept of family. If we put that into human terms, then this line applies to all of you demons.
But I think… it applies just as much to humans."
Slowly closing the scripture, Ange turned toward Linie and spoke with a gentle smile.
"We humans can only truly understand ourselves in the end, and even family and friends will someday reach a time when we must part ways.
At the very least, all visible bonds are eventually severed.
When everything is gone, people still want someone—like a parent—to watch over them. Someone who will scold them with punishment, or praise them when they deserve it.
I think people worship the goddess because, deep down, everyone carries feelings like that."
It had been the same when she lost her grandmother, and when she finally understood the true meaning of the old story she had been told.
One day, people must say goodbye to something they hold dear.
"In the end, I don't think what we truly want is the goddess herself, but a 'parent'—someone who will watch over us no matter what."
As she said the word parent, Ange carefully watched Linie's reaction.
She had no definitive proof that Linie was the demon of the apple orchard. She believed it to be true, but hesitated to say so directly.
"I've committed many sins myself. Even so, I believe I've always faced my faith sincerely. But there's no one left now to scold me for it—or praise me for it."
If anything, the senior nuns who once lived at this monastery had come closest to that role. But they had all been sent off to the war in the southern nations and never returned. No one knew when they might come back—or if they were already dead.
"So if, at the very end of the path we walk in life, there really is someone who will give us that… just imagining it makes you feel saved, doesn't it?"
With those words, Ange smiled.
She wasn't expecting that explaining such things to a demon would change Linie or make her understand.
But she hoped—just a little—that her words might linger somewhere in the long life Linie would continue to live as a demon.
"..."
For reasons unknown, Linie lowered her head and fell silent for a while.
Then—
"…Then what about me?"
Still looking down, she directed that question toward Ange.
"Lady Linie?"
Sensing something off about her, Ange called out to her cautiously.
"Will the punishment you speak of fall upon me, who has killed so many humans? Do I bear sin, when I've even eaten my own 'parents' and used everyone I've ever met as stepping stones? If punishment falls upon me, does that mean there was salvation for me too?"
"L-Lady Linie… what are you talking about…?"
Unable to grasp the meaning behind Linie's words, Ange could only stare in confusion.
Was this merely a question born from a demon's vague understanding of human concepts—or something else entirely? In the end, it didn't matter.
"You speak of reaching an end, yet I've never arrived at one. Nor has any so-called 'punishment' ever fallen upon me.
Is that because I'm a demon?"
"Th-that…"
Ange hesitated.
She had no answer to that question.
How easy it would have been if she could confidently say that the goddess truly watched over everyone, no matter who—or what—they were.
"…That was a pointless question."
Stacking the book back where it had been, Linie turned and headed for the door of the study.
"Lady Linie! Where are you going?"
"Hunting my own kind. And while I'm at it, I'll look for some decent soil. …I'll be back later."
Leaving those words behind, Linie walked out.
Left alone, Ange slowly lowered the hand she had half-reached out, dropping her gaze.
Until the very end, Ange had been unable to read Linie's expression.
She had wanted to stop her.
For some reason, Linie's departing back looked like that of a lost child wandering without a path.
Even so, fear kept Ange from stepping any further, and she couldn't bring herself to call out.
"She… ate her parents…? Why…? But the story my grandmother told me never mentioned anything like that…"
Had it been embellished?
If so, then she could no longer tell how much of the old story she had heard was true, and how much had been fabricated.
"…Still."
Ange lifted her head and once more looked toward the door Linie had left through.
"Do you realize it yourself, Lady Linie? The one who said demons have no concept of parents—you just said that you had parents."
Ange couldn't bring herself to say that Linie's back had looked, in that moment, like a small child seeking punishment.