71 Chapter 70: The Morisian Demon Hunters

Morris, the land infested with demons that either hid in plain sight or bared their true colors proudly, feasting on the Morisians in order to amass power and the fame that fear brought. Ot was the start of their rise, and many years passed as the inhabitants of Morris lived in fear and anguish.

The gods in the heavens took pity and sent down Red Angels, who fought the various evil creatures and brought the blessing of their lords unto the land. The angels taught the humans how to fight as well, casting out the many who could not align themselves with their masters and instead leading those who had great faith.

Their time in the world was limited, and so they hurriedly imparted enough of their faith so that it would be a way for humans to continue surviving in the future. This was known as the Autumn Parish, celebrating the patrons known as Mithiu of the Redeemed, Falkas of the Remembered, and Tenthine of the Rage. Together, they represented the Fall that was the Demon's rise.

And the abandoned humans that were cast from their own homes did not die as the Red Angels would've projected, their eyes aglow with vengeance and their hearts lit aflame. They fought and died over and over, until one of them finally killed a demon. From this, many weapons and armors were made, and these humans were reborn in the blood and flesh of their hated foes. These humans were simply known as Demon Hunters, beings that had given up most of their humanity in exchange for revenge.

The Autumn Parish and the Demon Hunters were at odds with one another, each fundamentally disagreeing with the other's organization and methods behind it. Though this opposition would not last long, as the Great Demon Gant escaped from the clutches of the underworld and appeared in Morris, causing the two to form a united front in order to hunt him. They succeeded, though in a way they failed as they were unable to completely kill him, hunks of his flesh spreading throughout the land to form lesser demons that were still head and shoulders above the others, known as the Scions of Gant.

And so they remained in a tenuous alliance to this day, the terms of which were used to regulate the tensions between their members. The Demon Hunters forming the Hunter Association in charge of military affairs, the Parish dividing into the Mithiu, Falkas, and Tenthine Temples while cultivating their own priests and priestesses, taking the rare gems as maidens and sacred men.

In this world, everything was about hunting down demons.

--

Bie's eyes fluttered, and he felt various cold and clammy sensations surrounding him from all sides. He was buried in something, being able to tell from the immense weight that fixed him in place, and all around him was the scent of rot and decay. There was a faint hint of magnolia emanating from some of the cold surfaces similar to flesh, though this did little to keep the horrifying stench at bay.

He started struggling, slowly rustling the massive hill of bodies as he fought to emerge from it. He increased his weight with Mountain's Step, infusing his frame with power as he struck out, and the upper half of his torso stuck out of the cold, balmy embrace.

All around him were oddly pristine bodies, each looking as if they could come to life at this very moment if it weren't for the lack of color that appeared in each and every one of them. Some were even...blue...

And there was a man who witnessed all of this, his hair falling in white waves beneath a lacquered cap, the lower half of his face hidden by a tattered cloth. Beneath his rugged brow were baleful eyes, emitting the luster of nascent hostility. His fine cloths were also tattered, rags atop his shoulders and numerous belts and clasps lining his body, and beside him was a floating wheel. His right hand clutched a bone pick inlaid with silvery metal and had a weird crest-like hilt, which several bone spikes spread outward from in an imitation of the symbol of the sun.

He carried a beautiful woman in his left hand, and a great many holes were opened in his torso. He walked up to the heap and carefully knelt down, placing the dead woman with great care in the arms of the corpses. Nestling her carefully within, he stood solemnly and drew his pick, and the wheel beside him began rotating.

"You are a foul creature, demon. Hiding in this place of rest, how much flesh have ye consumed? No matter, for I will end you here." The man pointed his bone pock at Bie, getting ready to lunge forwards and impale him.

Bie was confused by his accusation, though he still reacted in time as his pupils turned into white crosses. He was filled with the sense of lightness in his upper half, and his lower half had the weight of a hill as he pushed off from the corpses that still held his feet. He then reduced his weight entirely as he stood in the air, floating, though his Ink was draining at a rapid amount, only three quarters of it remaining.

So he dropped down and deactivated the Cassius Eyes, stepping to the side in time to avoid a measured lunge from the man who sought to kill him. The wheel glowed, and a phantasm devoid of any features of the man aside from his weapon appeared and struck towards the young Guide as well, though Bie retrieved Ekulech and knocked the blow aside.

He returned a slashing gesture of his own, cleaving it in twain as it shimmered out of existence. Out of his duffel bag he retrieved a javelin, which he hurled at the man. The man's eyes widened as he had to pull his pick to his chest, swinging his weapon at the javelin and redirecting its trajectory. It sank into the moss laden ground, cracks lining the pole beneath the blade.

Bie darted up to the man, arriving right in front of his eyes as he sent an uppercut at the towering man's abdomen. The man was lifted off the ground as he hung in the air, propped up by Bie's fist, and the wheel beside him bore down on Bie's head.

The young Guide had to let him down in order to avoid the blow, but it was too late. The wheel smashed into his back and pushed him into the hard wall, and the attacking opponent took this opportunity to kick him into the wall once again.

The repeated smashing kicks of the man and the wheel beat him down, though his blood started rapidly circulating as his lungs started to heave. Catching the wall, he quickly turned around and slammed his foot into the man's face with a sideways kick, and he pulled himself back onto the hard surface. He then kicked off of the wall and swung his right hand forward in an arc, carrying a hammer as it flew in the air, bound to the rest of his arm by Ariadne's Thread.

It crashed into the man's ribs, breaking into many fine splinters as it did so. The dark cloth on his face started dripping as he spat out blood, and he dusted himself off as he quickly regained his posture.

He rubbed his cloth with his free left hand, getting ready to fight again...