One could say he truly lived up to the borrowed reputation of a legendary demon hunter.
Alexander kept his expression calm and composed, ignoring the innkeeper’s knowing grin.
“I want to understand the situation in this village,” he said.
“When did the werewolves first start appearing around here?”
The innkeeper sighed heavily.
“It all began three years ago. Red Leaf Village used to be part of a baron’s territory. Then, in just a few days, seven or eight villagers vanished. The baron sent knights into the forest to search for them, but the knights disappeared too. Not long after, the manor was attacked by beasts. Everyone inside, including the baron… died.”
He shook his head sorrowfully.
“The village was once prosperous. Merchants passed through regularly. But after the werewolves came, everything changed. We’ve grown more isolated and poorer with each passing month.”
Alexander frowned.
“Did no one try to leave and seek help elsewhere?”
“Some tried. None ever returned. They became food for the beasts.” The innkeeper’s voice was grim.
“Occasionally, lost travelers like you wander in, bringing news from the outside. But they always disappear soon after.”
Alexander stroked his chin, his expression thoughtful. Get faster updates on g.com.
From what the innkeeper had told him, he summarized several key details: werewolves first appeared three years ago; after their arrival, outsiders began coming to the village but all vanished shortly after; anyone who tried to leave was hunted down; most of the village’s food and supplies came from the chief, who was known as the best hunter yet kept the source of his provisions a mystery, he claimed they had been stored long ago to prepare for famine, though his explanation was full of gaps; and the villagers learned how to defend themselves from the church priest, telling them that werewolves feared fire, weapons soaked in holy water, and silver, all of which could harm them but the priest’s advice about werewolves fearing fire didn’t match the one Alexander had fought and no one seemed to know anything about the old woman in the forest cabin.
“It’s a mess,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.
He wasn’t one for drawn-out puzzles.
With his strength, it was often simpler to act directly.
After a series of questions, he left the Inn and wandered until he reached the center of the village, stopping outside the church.
Devout prayers echoed from within.
Inside the church, the prayers concluded.
Villagers dropped coins into a collection box and filed out.
A priest in a black cassock stood on the raised platform and suddenly called out to a young girl in the crowd.
“Father, is something wrong?” she asked, looking confused.
“My devout child, I sense an evil presence upon you,” the priest said with a benevolent smile.
The girl’s face filled with panic.
In this village, the priest held a position of great respect.
He had taught the villagers how to defend themselves against werewolves, enabling them to live in relative safety and peace, so she never doubted anything he said. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“What should I do?” she whispered.
“Don’t worry, my child. As a loyal servant of the Lord, it is my duty to help expel the evil within you. Follow me.”
The young girl trailed after him with a mix of trepidation and hope.
They entered a hidden room behind the church.
The enclosed space had no windows.
A few candles cast flickering light across the dim interior.
Inside stood an X-shaped wooden rack with leather restraints, a tall iron frame with hanging ropes, and an execution-style platform with boards and straps.
The walls displayed an array of disturbing instruments: whips, thorny branches stained with old blood, and other tools of torment.
The girl stared at the sight, unease growing in her chest.
“Take off your clothes,” the priest ordered the moment the door closed.
His once-kind smile twisted into something dark and hungry.
“Huh?”