...What? Already it seems everything is fairly inept, but... Wait, Avenira has been quite unmotivated to actually harm me. She said that her being sent back to hell is 'much better', and with all the questions she avoids answering she answers that one? Have I just been missing some-- She might be not the biggest demon? But then, hmm.

Halta stands up straight, takes her longsword into her right hand, and points with her left. Channelling all of her overdramatic hero for this idea. "Then, I have one last thing before I rid you from this world again. Make me that memorial plant, and have it have your own personality." Then back to normal. "I might want a few more questions, and nobody would notice if it ceases to be before I leave. Feel free to talk through it if you care." And then back to overdramatic. "Make it quick, this has gone on long enough!"

If I was wrong, this is going to look so stupid...

"Honestly?" she says, "I'm really not sure I trust you enough."

Nevertheless, from the ground sprouts a deep purple vine, thickening and assuming the shape of a small tree in a matter of seconds. Fruit forms on some of the branches, like blue peaches, and then the growth stops, seemingly done.

"I hear food has all sorts of weird effects on mortals, though."

Something half between a grunt and a sigh. "If I wanted to play who-trusts-who, who-said-what, who-meant-what, I would have succumbed to my mother and worn a dress!"

Halta grips her longsword, and gets into stance to attack.

"… Even I don't wear dresses," says Avenira, who is in fact not wearing a dress. (Pants and a nice blouse, actually, all in very dark colors.)

"And I do indeed find it somewhat better to talk to you over those brainless girls, but that is far enough..." Halta walks over to the tree, picks off one of the fruit...

...And then throws it at Avenira but slightly above. Then it's a burst of speed forwards, with her sword to clothesline Avenira's staff and arm and sail past afterwards. The first of her one-two punch, as the wind she brings with her will work to dissipate any black auras first...

Catching the fruit on the other side is an option, but not entirely intended.

Avenira moves to the side, quickly but not enough, and her hand gets severed.

It looks like a far cleaner cut than it perhaps should be, but provokes a noise of fury.

The thrown fruit gets a catch and a spot in the lip of her backpack. If Halta wasn't paying attention, the severing would have just been the best outcome of that attack. It is of no consequence now, really.

And then the main strike. Speed boost to just in front of Avenira, and then drive the sword home into the vitals. Expelling the magic in a burst with it is likely overkill at this point, but no use half-assing things, let the silvery explosion emanate 180 if it lands (it should miss the little tree...).

As Halta goes to do such, Avenira smiles horribly, speeding up to match – and then all she does is drag a finger through the air, pointing it at Halta's leg, accompanied by a searing pain.

She doesn't do anything else to stop her.

A bit of pain doesn't stop her driving that sword home, just gritting her teeth and noting to look at it in a moment...

It goes through, hardly making a noise and only getting marginal resistance…

And then the body, still impaled on the sword, crumbles to a dust, dark as night.

...

Well, that is that.

Halta pulls her sword out of the pose of the final strike, and sheathes it. Her magic flows back, since there was leftover.

...Do I need to go acquire the medallion myself? Seems so.

Right. Back to work, this is not done yet. Leg, fruit, medallion, return home. And Halta quickly scans her leg with magic, running her hand alongside her pants to focus it.

 … It's nasty, whatever it is. Doesn't seem like it'll have trouble healing, except insofar as it is very inclined to leave a scar.

...

Bitch.

Then out comes the fruit from the top of her pack. A chuckle slips out, but she stifles herself quickly.

Nom.

It tastes rather sweet, but otherwise like the peach it resembles. The color has no noticeable impact on anything.

I was expecting it to be incredibly spicy. Pleasant change, for once.

The one in her hand gets eaten, and then it's off to view the... Rubble behind the throne, for some idea of where to obtain the medallion.

The rubble itself does not seem to hold any secrets to the mystery.

If she looks at the back of the throne, however, it seems like that could be the medallion, embedded into the seat.

"Well, that was easy."

She walks over. If it looks easy to pull out she tries, and if not (or if it only looks easy) her war hammer can finish off the poor throne.

It does not look particularly easy to remove!

However, when she hits the throne with the hammer, it pops out quite readily. The throne does not move or dent.

Sure, whatever. The method is less significant than the prize.

The Champion's Medallion, a small golden disc on a cord. Originally an object held by the second Champion, the third brought it back triumphantly. Through a whole century, it became the prize for whomever slays the Demon Lord to identify them. And now, Halta holds it in her hand. The 'hard' part is over, when she returns home her two goals in life will be done. Heroism, purpose, unambiguously a good thing...

It feels bittersweet to her, after what happened today. The cord is put around her neck and the medallion tucked under her armor. Halta walks away, unceremoniously tucking her hammer away and feeling conflicted.

Down the corridor to the indoor garden, she decides to actually have a lunch today and to spend it looking at the odd plants.

The odd plants… mostly do not react to her presence. One, a rather unappealing shade of blue, sways as though it might be considering her, if she's looking for that sort of thing.

Halta remains sitting against the wall, not surrounded by plants but on the outskirts. She's casually watching them all for safety, but admiring the plants also makes her notice it.

"Hello there, plant... This happens to still be like talking to myself, but I still have had no conversations as of late, Avenira was not much of a discussion." Nom some hardtack. "Strange to think what a demon might have in here, but I think I can leave it unburnt. Sway away, little plant."

"Does everyone get strangely poetic when they have nobody around for quite awhile? It can be amusing, though odd..."

The plants do not care to respond. Perhaps they can't.

No demons make themselves known.

Of course they don't.

A prompt leaving of the castle is in order. Retrieve her ball of yarn from nearby, walk her way out with it, pack it, and then walk to exit in the same way through the dog kennel in the wall.

She manages to get away from the castle without too much fuss.

It's possible she'll see some demons, some retreating and some clutching dramatically at their chests, others yet losing the powerful auras they had going for them before…

It looks like the Demon Lord – or Lady – really is vanquished.

The show isn't necessary, but it is pretty amusing.

Outside Halta walks away from the castle, sparing only a single glance backwards. A short walk away is her tent, near the endless void surrounding the world that is the Brink of Sudden Death. It's still too early to sleep, but going to sleep (or at least nap) is what she wants to do, and there's a distinct lack of anybody that could stop her from doing that.