Chapter 106: Nothing Amiss? (I)
Back at the capitol.
Hunter Balir fixed his tricorne cap as he stood in a half destroyed alleyway. Cracks lined the walls as dark green blood dripped down a great axe and fell past the cleaved lines and plopped onto the floor.
"Tch. They got to some of the Autumn Parish, huh?" A face that might've been upbeat and jovial once withered into a grey one that sported a mangled nose and shattered bits of sharpened teeth. Balir crushed the head underneath his foot as he tutted to himself, green energy circulating around him as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.
Advancing out of the alleyway with a giant greataxe almost as tall as his towering physique, some civilians shivered in fear as the head of the axe hung slightly above the ground. The axe itself was half a ton in weight, but Balir easily swung it back and forth with one arm as his expression furrowed into disgust, swathes of bandages slightly shifting on his face.
"Cultist bastards. I guess that means they set up a morgue in this town." His gaze slid around the dilapidated surroundings as he observed each and every person, knowing that the cultist demons were shapeshifters. Eyes focusing like a glaring wild cat, he followed the slight mist in the air before lashing out with his right arm.
Shrieks pierced the air as a head was separated from its shoulders. A kindly woman laid on the floor, skin graying rapidly as the clothed veil reemerged on the "woman's" face. Balir lit up a cigar, an amber flame lingering on the edge as it chased the mist the corpse emitted away.
"S-s-sir! Please, you've been defending us for years! You know me, you even helped me repair my shop!"
The demons wearing Morisian skins pleaded with great vigor, but were met with a cruel and indifferent gaze. The dirty bandages were stained with shades of green as he continued, wordlessly cutting down any and all creatures that fluctuated with demonic mist despite not being able to have any.
Even some demon hunters fell under his blade, Balir being able to distinguish the unique, squirming aura of the cultist demons as he tyrannically proceeded. He slaughtered his way up towards the temple door of the main temple of the Autumn Parish.
He chuckled to himself, blowing a puff of amber smoke as his footsteps treaded red and green smears. Knocking on the door as the axe burrowed into the ground, he waited for a solid ten seconds as the sounds of shuffling broke out from the gap in an almost closed window.
An old man's haughty face pulled open the door, Reverend Juther standing in the doorway. Although he was much shorter than Balir, he acted as if he was a god amongst mortals, barely deigning to listen to the pleas of the rabble beneath him.
"You stink of blood, mongrel. Demon blood make you cut yourself?"
"You are as funny as always. Juther. Stand aside…"
"Or what? I didn't know the Hunter association now had the jurisdiction to just wantonly enter the Autumn Parish? Heavens, I could've imagined that we have a tenuous alliance only kept up because of the coming threat of Gant bastards?"
"Old man, you don't get it, do you?"
"I must've offended a half demon pissant like you. I should've replaced heavens with hell, since that's really the only place I can imagine a person like you going."
"You're really bad at pissing me off. Are you stalling for something…" Creaking noises sounded as he tapped his left hand against the wall, the jacket almost like a metal alloyed sheet as it scraped along the sacred autumnal stone. Juther ground his teeth in frustration, stepping up to him and glaring upwards as he spat globs of spit on his chest while speaking.
"Stalling? On what grounds would a maiden stealing runt like you be able to "investigate" a holiness?! You demean the Red Angels and their lords, you Mithiu forsaken crook. How dare you turn away from-"
Balir shoved the bag of bones aside, not listening to any of his spewed garbage. The visible half of his mouth curled upwards as he sniffed out a familiar smell…
"Demons. How could a holy place like this have any demonic energy? And…why don't I feel angelic energy from you? Juther."
"Hah! Barging barbaric bull-headed braggart. Fine. You want to see this place? Fine. I'll show you that there's nothing amiss."
Balir dragged in a bloody trace as he stepped over the mixed multicolored paneled floor. Bleak light transformed into bloodstained rouge rainbows as they entered through the paned windows, and statues gazed down at the two as plenty of priests moved about the place.
"There's a lot of movement."
"There always is. Is that reason to sully our floors?"
"Yep." Balir swept through the temple with narrowed eyes, noting that some of the statues seemed off. Vision refocusing as his perspective narrowed, he noticed that there was a faint smear of liquid near the eyes. The eyes of the statues that didn't move no matter how reverently the Autumn clergy prayed.
"The faith. How has it been going?"
"Tsk, isn't it too late for you to convert? Tenthine wouldn't take you even if you slayed thousands of demons for him to feast on."
"For a priest? I have to say you're shitty in the whole "forgiveness" department."
"Why you…are you insinuating that I'm lacking?!"
"May Falkas acknowledge even the most minuscule of lambs." Balir chuckled as he said this, taunting the priest with their own Three God Autumnal Text. The scripture flowed naturally, and he even seemed as righteous as a saint as he snickered, carrying a sovereign and soulful vibe. Juther rolled his eyes and clenched his hand around his cane, continuing further down the hall.
'Hmm. This demonic aura is permeating the hall inside and out, but it's faint. The mist is nonexistent, so either it's a high ranked cultist near here or they're containing a demon. Wait…'
His eyes glanced all over the walls, perspective rapidly switching. The liquid smears were drying, and there was no hint of green tint on the walls, but the drying itself was quite suspicious.
The walls with the statues nearby had the highest energy concentration. The doorways with ornately carved visages of the three gods of Morris also leaked this slight Gantrian fluctuation.
The more they progressed, the more certain Balir was. Wordlessly, he followed Juther up a set of stairs as he inspected even more. A minute later, he was sure of his suspicions.
"Odd that the angelic energy in here has faded a bit? It should be a little stifling to come up here FYI, but somehow I feel a little energized. Now why is that?"
"…you hold your tongue you halfbred simpleton."
"Do tell me, what IS the source of your frustration? You are even more irate than normal. Could it be that…"
"YOU! SHUT! UP!"
"…those gods of yours have forsaken you?" Balir moved in front of the trembling Juther, his fingers softly touching a large pane of glass that took up nearly the entirety of the wall before him.
Red energy fluctuated from Juther's form as the floor began to crumble underneath the spiritual weight. Balir turned to face him, smirking as he hefted his mighty great axe.
"Now now, what's the matter? Isn't there nothing amiss?"