CHAPTER 107: CHAPTER 107 - THE MISSION IN PAIR (3)

Somewhere Near Thornshade Hamlet – An Abandoned Church

Moonlight spilled through the shattered stained-glass windows of the crumbling church, casting fractured hues over the desecrated altar. The once-sacred space was now a grotesque parody of worship — foul sigils scrawled in dried blood marred the stone walls, and the air hung heavy with a twisted, coppery stench of death and decayed mana.

Rotten pews creaked under the slightest breeze, and near the altar, a half-collapsed statue of an angel wept cracks filled with black sludge. Scattered around the chamber were bodies — lifeless, drained of color, twisted in their final moments of agony.

And yet... amidst it all, laughter echoed.

"Jejejejejeje... the twelfth offering is complete..." croaked a voice like rusted chains dragging across flesh. A tall, hunched figure stepped forward, blood staining his ceremonial dagger. His eyes glowed faintly red beneath the hood, as if something not quite human looked out from within. "Only eighty-eight more... and the veil will thin. He will hear us. He will answer..."

"Hmph, Devil Bishop Keron awaits!" another cultist hissed, slamming a fist to his chest in deranged reverence. "Once the Bishop descends, the Devil Commander himself won’t be far behind!"

A chorus of maddened whispers and low chuckles rippled through the group.

"We’ll gut the village clean," another rasped, a sick grin spreading under his mask. "Men, women, even children. All are gifts to the Emperor’s glory."

"Jiejejeje... the Devil Emperor shall rise again, and when he does, this world will burn

with beautiful screams~!"

As if to mark the moment, a nearby corpse convulsed — a failed sacrifice, still caught in the residual curses — before going still with a final twitch.

One of the younger cultists shifted uneasily. "Someone’s been poking around. There were tracks in the woods. We may have been noticed."

"Hmph. Let them come," growled a masked figure in a jagged bone mantle, his voice dripping with contempt. "The Merciniries? Adventurers? Fools. All will kneel, their blood will feed our altar. Their souls will cry out in despair as they too become offerings."

"Jejejejeje~ maybe we should thank them," another chuckled, licking blood from his fingers. "We need more sacrifices anyway, and it’s so boring waiting around for villagers."

A woman’s voice slithered out from the darkened choir loft, where a cloaked figure sat swinging her legs. "Just imagine... the look on their faces when they realize they came running into our den. Hehe... delightful."

The group fell into silence for a moment, broken only by the dripping of blood from the altar into the cracked stone basin below. It hissed as it met the black runes etched inside — the seal of the Devil Emperor’s Will.

Then—

"Jejejeje... The offering continues. No one can stop us now."

***

[Back to Present]

The soft thump of boots on moss-laced earth echoed as Luca and Selena landed on the outskirts of Oakrest. A quiet, unassuming village veiled under the evening fog, nestled along the edge of the dense woods near Thornshade Hamlet.

With a wave of his hand, Luca dismissed the Kunpeng back into its spatial mark. The creature let out a soft trill before vanishing in a shimmer of light. At the same time, the baby dragon pouted, clinging to Luca’s leg with her tiny fingers.

"Papa!" she mewled, red eyes shimmering with reluctant tears.

Luca bent down and ruffled her golden hair. "I promise I’ll let you out again once we’re alone, alright? Be a good girl for now."

Reluctantly, she nodded, and with a faint glimmer, she disappeared back into the space crystal.

Selena pulled her hood up, tugging on the drab commoner’s cloak over her finely tailored clothes. "This is... uncomfortable," she murmured, eyeing the rough fabric like it had personally insulted her.

Luca chuckled. "That’s the point. If you look too clean, you’ll stick out."

The two adjusted their disguises and strolled down the dirt path into Oakrest. The village was simple, quiet, and unassuming. Stone cottages dotted the area, smoke rising from a few crooked chimneys. Farmers hauled baskets of grain or vegetables while children chased chickens through muddy lanes. There was laughter, barking dogs, and the soft creak of windmills. But beneath the surface, there was a strange tension—an unnatural stillness in the way a few doors slammed quickly shut at the sight of strangers.

Selena’s sharp eyes took in everything, her expression unreadable.

"Where to?" she finally asked.

"The tavern," Luca replied. "Always the best place for rumors."

It didn’t take long to find it: a squat stone building with a crooked wooden sign that read "The Oak’s Tankard." Aged ivy climbed its walls, and the stench of spilled ale drifted from within.

As they pushed open the creaking door, the tavern came alive with a mix of noise and scent. A warm, smoky air enveloped them. The scent of beer, sweat, and firewood clung thick in the air. A worn-out bard plucked at a lute in the corner while a few grizzled patrons nursed their mugs, lost in thought or quiet conversation. Sawdust littered the floor, and crooked tables leaned at odd angles. Lanterns hung low, their light flickering through smoke-stained glass.

Selena wrinkled her nose, eyes narrowing. She looked entirely out of place—too poised, too graceful. Her ponytail gleamed like moonlight in the dim tavern light.

Luca noticed her discomfort and smirked. She must’ve never set foot in a place like this before... But she said nothing, holding her chin high as they made their way to an empty corner booth.

As they sat, a rough-looking waiter came over, wiping his hands on a grimy apron.

Luca flicked him a silver coin. "Two beers."

The man’s eyes gleamed as he pocketed the coin and nodded, vanishing behind the counter.

Selena leaned in, arms crossed. "You seem awfully at ease in these kinds of places," she said, her tone lightly teasing.

Luca scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I’ve wandered a lot."

Before Selena could retort, he held a finger to his lips and tilted his head toward a table across the room.

Two older men hunched close together, voices low but audible to magically attuned ears.

"...Did you hear about the disappearances from those villages by the river bend?" one whispered, voice gruff with age.

"Yeah," the other murmured, glancing around nervously. "Three families just... gone. Some folks say it’s the Devil Cult."

"Devil cult?" the first man hissed. "Shh! Don’t say it out loud, fool!"

The second man gulped down his ale. "Sorry, sorry. Just... strange things are happening. Cattle drained of blood. Smoke from the hills at night. They say you can hear chanting from from various places"

Selena’s eyes narrowed. "So it’s true then. They’ve already begun..."

"It seems the information is right at least," Luca said, arms folded as he leaned back slightly, watching the two men still whispering over their mugs of ale.

Selena gave a faint nod but murmured, "But we didn’t learn anything new. It’s just what we already knew from the reports."

Luca agreed, tapping a finger against the wooden table. "Yeah. But it confirms the rumors are spreading, and the villagers are spooked. Which means we don’t have much time before the cultists either flee... or escalate."

He glanced out the tavern’s window. The sky had turned a pale crimson as dusk settled over the quiet village. Faint wisps of chimney smoke curled into the air, and lanterns were being lit one by one across the dirt paths of Oakrest.

"It’s already close to night," Luca said, rising from his seat. "Let’s first find a place to stay, then we’ll scout the village once things quiet down. People are often more talkative under the cover of night."

Selena stood as well, brushing nonexistent dust from her simple brown cloak. "Fine. But we need to act quickly. If they’re already conducting rituals, we might not get another chance."

Luca nodded. "I saw an inn on our way here. Cozy little place, wooden sign with a goose on it. Let’s head there."

The two slipped out of the tavern, blending easily with the villagers returning from farms and shops, and made their way through the cobbled road toward the inn. It was a modest two-story building nestled between a bakery and a blacksmith’s forge, its warm yellow lights glowing gently behind the curtained windows. The painted sign hanging above the entrance read: The Golden Goose.

As Luca pushed the wooden door open, a small bell above jingled, announcing their presence.

Inside, the inn had a warm, homey feel to it. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with the scent of burnt pinewood. The walls were decorated with faded paintings and trinkets from past travelers. The wooden floor creaked beneath their feet as they stepped in.

A woman behind the counter—round-faced and kind-eyed, with auburn hair tied in a bun—looked up from her ledger. She seemed to be in her early thirties.

"Ohh, quite a young couple we have here," she said with a teasing smile, eyes twinkling as she closed her book.