In truth, the villagers trying to escape through the two gates were no real trouble, as both could easily be blocked. The greater nuisance was those attempting to climb over the village walls to flee.
Each time that happened, Tris had to dispatch a 'Feathers' puppet from its post above to swoop down and shoot them.
To ensure none slipped away, he even had to employ more than one 'Feathers' at once.
Fortunately, the village was small, making this manageable. Had it been a larger settlement, some might have escaped.
Controlling a 'Twin' puppet, a 'Servant', and several 'Feathers' simultaneously nearly overwhelmed Tris's mind.
As a result, though he stood still at the village gate, he felt mentally exhausted. Yet this fatigue was only temporary and soon passed, for with time their workload steadily diminished.
Indeed, thanks to the ruthless efficiency of the puppets, most of the village's "trash" had already been cleared away.
By now, only a handful of stragglers remained, hiding like filthy cockroaches.
The advantage was that with his Space magic, Tris could easily pinpoint the exact locations of those vermin in hiding.
. . .
* * * * * * * * * *
Tonight was nothing short of a nightmare for the entire village.
When the two children first arrived, everyone believed they had stumbled upon easy prey.
The pair looked so young, as if merely playing at being adventurers, giving the impression they would be simple to deal with.
What's more, with experienced eyes, they noticed the clothes and gear the children wore were of fine quality, certainly not cheap. That made whatever they carried in their bags and packs all the more tempting.
Thus, just as they had done many times before, the villagers carried out their plan.
When the two empty bowls of porridge were returned, they grew even more confident that everything would proceed smoothly without issue.
They thought they had everything under control, yet the outcome was the complete opposite of their expectations.
The porridge had no effect, and those they mistook for prey turned out to be merciless demons disguised in the forms of children.
With overwhelming strength, they slaughtered one villager after another. Some had their throats slit; others had their heads smashed as if they were nothing more than melons.
Regardless of man or woman, adult or child, before these monsters all were equal, each granted the same merciless death.
. . .
At that moment, hiding inside a house was a married couple.
They held their breath, terrified, waiting for the nightmare to pass.
They had once tried to flee through the rear gate, only to witness others burned alive in the flames.
Then they attempted to climb over the village fence, but abandoned the plan when they saw those who tried had their heads blown apart by some magic.
Knowing that every escape route had already been blocked, their only choice was to hide as carefully as possible, hoping the demons would leave once they believed all the villagers had been killed.
Fortunately, having anticipated possible mishaps, this hideout had been secretly built and designed by the two of them. It lay just beneath the floor near the corner of the house. Covering it above was the mattress and blanket they usually slept on.
From outside the house, cries and pleas often reached their ears, showing that the slaughter was still ongoing.
But gradually, those sounds became fewer, until everything sank completely into silence.
Knowing that the decisive moment had come to determine whether they would succeed or fail, both grew more anxious and fearful. After all, failure here meant death.
Sitting still without making a sound, even suppressing the faintest breath, the couple could not stop their hearts from pounding violently.
They never imagined there would come a day when they feared even the sound of their own heartbeat.
Then suddenly, a creak rang out, the familiar sound from the wretched door of their house. Hearing it now made them both flinch, nearly screaming in terror.
Covering their mouths tightly, they listened to each gentle footstep above, growing clearer and clearer. Their faces turned pale, drained of blood.
Rustling noises followed, seemingly from furniture being rummaged through. Guessing that the intruder was only searching for valuables, they quietly sighed in relief, feeling somewhat reassured.
Afterward, the rummaging stopped, and the footsteps seemed to fade away. Hearing this, they smiled faintly, as if victory was within reach.
"Oops, my hand slipped."
A sudden voice rang out, followed by the sound of something hurled forcefully through the air.
Then, a spear pierced through both the mattress above and the floor, striking directly into the husband's neck below. With blood gushing profusely from his neck, the wound instantly ended his life.
Realizing they had been discovered for some reason, the wife cried out in terror:
"Please don't kill me. I'll do anything you ask. Besides, I have a child inside my womb. Surely you wouldn't want…"
The spear was yanked out, accompanied by a reply:
"The lives of other people's children mean nothing to you, yet you expect others to care about yours? Wishful thinking."
The spear was thrust down once more, silencing all the disturbing sounds below.
"And I truly hate when someone tries to morally blackmail me."
The voice echoed, filled with irritation and gloom.