He didn’t answer. Outside, the morning fog curled around the chapel’s broken steeple. Last month, this place had been infested with a rogue spirit—one of the old, hateful kind, born from fear and celibate zealotry. The villagers had begged for help.

The Lilim’s wings shimmered with quiet laughter. “Go. Eat a cake. Be human for an hour. The world won’t end.”

“Aren’t you?”

He stood there for a long time. Then, slowly, he unbuckled his sword belt, leaned it against the chapel wall, and walked toward the smell of fresh bread. If you meant something else (rules text, a stat block, a faction summary, a poem, a combat scene), just tell me the monster girl or situation, and I’ll write a new piece specifically for that.

A small frontier chapel, rebuilt at the edge of a Rewilding forest. Dawn.