With several mutters and grimaces, he started to climb his way up the vines. He was halfway up the cliff when some familiar voices shouting reached his ears.

“Over there!”

“Don’t let him escape! He’s trying to escape up the cliff!”

“Shoot him down- now!”

Damn it. Why must Rupert always be so unlucky? It was as if the goddess looked down upon him for being the way he was- for being what he was. Oh, what he’d give for even one bit of fortune to fall upon him and his family…

“Fire!”

Sweet Amaryllis, why have you forsaken them so?

Clicking his tongue, Rupert whirled around to glare at his pursuers. He could almost see out of his left eye again. “Seriously!? Just give it up already!”

They weren’t ever going to catch him. It’s been years since this game of cat-and-mouse has started, and it’s about time they learn that he wasn’t just any mouse. If anything, he was the cat playing with them.

The only reason Rupert never fought back was because he would kill them.

When he was younger and was still learning how to hunt and forage, a wild bear came out and tried to attack him and his mother. One punch to its stomach was all it took to send it flying back into a tree, where its spine broke and skull cracked open. It had been a bloody mess, but he and his mom were able to get the bear meat to last them several days.

He… doesn’t want these people, who were merely acting out of paranoia and fear, to end up the same way. Although… he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted sometimes.

Ah, no, forget about it. Killing people is wrong. His mother would surely cry too, if she found out. Rupert isn’t sure his heart could bear the tears she’d shed.

He’s made her cry enough already…

Letting go of the vines with one hand, he swung with all his might to the other side, avoiding the arrows that plunged into the green mesh growing along the stone wall. With a scowl and another blink in an attempt to rid the remaining blood from his healing eye, he started to climb again.

Dumb Baron’s been at this for years now! When’s he ever going to learn?

A few months is all it usually takes for most villages to forget about Rupert, the people assuming he’s been killed off or scared away from their village. But Lillian Village’s Baron… oh, he has it out for him. It was his village that Rupert’s mother was raised in, and it was his village that chased them out. He may not have been the noble in charge at the time, but he picked up where his father left off and antagonized them all the same.

Truly, he was the worst.

“Again!” The Baron shouted, but just before they could shoot… the vines beneath Rupert’s hold began to tear.

The boy blinked.

The next thing he knew, he was grabbing desperately at the vines, screeching as he tried to prevent his fall. “W-Wait-! No, no- damn it- stop! Don’t-!”

Rupert fell, a scream falling past his lips.

He could feel the eyes of his pursuers on him as he crashed against the ground, the ribbon falling from his hair as he laid sprawled across the dirt. One of his legs felt… twisted and in pain, and he could hear his attackers murmuring amongst themselves wondering if he was dead, but with a groan and a whimper strangled in the back of his throat, he felt his bones pop back into place and his injuries mend themselves shut.

“He’s still breathing!” One of the men exclaimed, the shock evident in his voice. “Look!”

They watched as Rupert rose up from the ground, his long hair spilling around his shoulders. The boy collapsed onto his rear and glared at them venomously, the vibrant reptilian green of his irises disturbing them greatly.

“His eye’s even gone and healed itself up.”

Rupert’s lips curled back in a fierce growl, his sharp fangs baring themselves for all to see. All he received were looks of pure loathing in response.

“He’s more of a monster than the other half-demons!”

The Baron turned his nose up at him, his blue eyes burning into him. “At least the others stay bleeding after they’re cut. Hmph. Hurry and slay the beast while it’s down! I doubt we’ll get a chance like this again…”

As if Rupert would let that happen. Wiping at the blood on his face, he scoffed at them again. “How long have you been tryin’, huh? Ten years? Eleven? Just give up! It’s never gonna happen.”

A moment’s pause, and then a snarky, bitter fueled-

“Besides, you may call me the monster, but I’m not the one going around killing innocent people and claiming that it’s for some sick, deluded form of justice.”

-ended up leaving his lips.

“I’m not the one branding people as witches just because they decided to have kids with some demons!”

With each word he said, Rupert found himself growing angrier. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t wrap his mind around the way they thought. He’s seen half-demon children burn at the stakes, their single parents helpless to stop them as they were stoned and beaten to death. Houses burned to ash…

Yes, houses just like the ones his grandparents had lived in. “I never even left my grandparents’ farm, but you’re the ones who decided my existence was a crime! You’re the ones who declared my mother a witch, and chased us into this forest!”

Because of them… Because of them…

“The only reason she had me was because of your bastard of a viscount! She saw an opportunity to escape his advances and she took it. We never hurt anyone!”

He and his mother had to suffer. His loving grandparents, who had ruffled his hair and accepted his horns and claws without hesitation, who had opened their arms lovingly to him, had been killed.

Slowly, Rupert stood, backing up until he was leaning against a tree, glaring just as hatefully at them. “You’re… the monsters here. Not us. We just wanted to live.”

His words had the desired effect. One of the villagers hesitated, looking at him and seeing a teenager instead of a young man. A child. Rupert was twenty-one years old, but this cursed blood made him age slowly- slower, even, than other half-demons.

Why that was, he was unsure; perhaps his father was some extra special kind of bastard for an Incubus? Maybe the world just hated Ruper especially? He didn’t know and didn’t really care. But in times like this… it could be used as an advantage.

And it worked.

The woman faltered and looked at her colleagues, her voice trembling as she gripped the wooden bow she was holding tight with both hands. “M-Maybe he’s right? We did attack first… and he never actually hurt anyone…”

“Have you lost your mind!?” The Baron exclaimed. His voice was loud and obnoxious, full of arrogance befitting that of a narcissist.

“He’s just a kid!” She protested. “And he’s right; what did his kind ever do to us? It’s the Incubi and Succubi to blame! They were… They were all just kids! Every single one… and we killed them.”

The more she thought about it, the paler her face became. Her orange hair hung in her face.

“We killed kids. Oh, goddess, have mercy on us…”

Her colleagues looked back-and-forth at each other, looking as though they were becoming swayed by her words, until the Baron spoke again, venom laced heavily in each word. “That child is way older than he looks! And he’ll become an Incubus if his father ever comes back to collect him! We have to kill him now!”

“But-“

As they argued, Rupert took that chance to sneak away, climbing his way back up the vines- forgoing his cape which was going to lay abandoned from this moment on. It was too late for the Baron by the time he noticed Rupert’s absence; the half-demon had already reached the top of the cliff. “Damn it- he’s getting away! Stop him!”

Rupert broke out into a run, their voices fading behind him at the bottom of the cliff quickly.

“By my order as this land’s Baron; stop dawdling and go after him! Quickly!”