The New Recruits

"What exactly is a demonic beast?" Noah asked inwardly.

"Some demons, in order to survive better in other worlds, adapt themselves to resemble the creatures of those worlds, thereby reducing the rejection by the world. They are usually cunning and ferocious, and if given the chance to devour souls, they grow rapidly."

Noah considered his strategy for battle.

"You can't defeat it—you simply can't!" Gladius cursed Noah with abandon, only serving to steel his resolve.

Maybe I can't defeat such a behemoth, but I'll find a way. I'll seek help. Noah resolved.

He made his way back to the hunters' chapel. Under the moonlight, the ancient structure cast a massive shadow, its darkened form reminiscent of a silent black hillock, its dilapidated appearance lending it an air of archaic decay.

The main door was locked, so he pushed open the side entrance.

"I'm really curious where you've been all night," Ines stood inside, seemingly awaiting Noah's return, her expression a mix of complaint and impatience.

"Just some errands," Noah lingered at the doorway.

"You're hurt..." she noticed the wounds on his body.

"I've felt better."

"'Felt better,' most people would be dead by now! Come inside, let's have a look at you."

"You?" As Noah stepped inside, he found several strangers in the anteroom. "Who are you?"

"You're Sir Noah? We saw your recruitment notice in the square," one of the men explained.

Newcomers!

Noah was surprised. He had only posted the recruitment notice at noon, and already, by evening, people were responding. Fresh blood was slowly trickling into the hunters' organization, a fact that filled Noah with genuine joy. There would be new recruits, veterans, and professional hunters who might one day address Noah as "Master"...

He briefly scanned the group, three strangers in addition to Ines.

"Please introduce yourselves," Noah said, wiping the blood from his body with the handkerchief Ines handed him, still wanting to make a good impression on the newcomers.

"I'm Duven from Qinghe." The man who spoke first had brown hair, sunken cheeks, a long pointed nose, and brown eyes. His lips were firmly pressed together, giving off an unpleasant vibe. Noah had seen several murderers and thieves with similar features, but they were demon hunters; there was no need to be picky about appearances.

Noah considered a few essential questions he needed to ask, confident these would reveal much about the individual.

"What can you do?"

Duven looked around, the others waiting for his response.

"I... " he hesitated, "I can wield a sword, and I can box. I used to work as a bouncer in a tavern; people thought I was good with my hands."

"Are you afraid of demons?"

"If I understand what it is, I'm not afraid," Duven explained.

"Why join the chapel?"

"I'm new here, penniless, just looking for any work to get by and a place to rest. You're recruiting troops, right? There's no need to be so stern."

"It's necessary," Noah turned to the next, a young man with thick hair and a flat facial profile, exuding vitality, dressed in new leather armor but carrying a fish basket and spear, looking like a warrior-turned-fisherman.

The young man met Noah's gaze, "Where's Master Frederick?"

"The master is dead," Noah explained. "I'm now the head of the chapel."

"Dead? How did he die?"

"Killed in action during a demon hunt, he fought bravely to his last breath," murdered by Oliver from behind, without even the chance to fight back.

"Then where did you come from?" The young man's tone was hostile.

Noah frowned.

"I'm a demon hunter. Are you here to enlist or to cause trouble? I must rebuild the chapel from nothing; we have no need for troublemakers. If you want to join, follow my command."

This firm stance noticeably deflated the young man's aggression.

"I don't want to work under someone younger than me," he regarded Noah suspiciously.

Noah was still in his youth, whereas the other man was in his mid-twenties, an age of maturity and self-importance.

"Enough. Answer my questions. What can you do?" Noah preferred to be assertive, which was the best way to deflate those full of hot air.

"...I can swim, I'm Maden from Tri-tail Bay, grew up in a fishing village, and I can throw spears. We have competitions in the village; I've placed in the top three every year," Maden said.

"Are you afraid of demons?"

"I'm afraid, but Master Frederick was my hero! I want to be like him, fighting demons!"

"Before the fateful battle in Duskwood Forest, Master Frederick was the most renowned hunter in Upper Romen. If only..."

"Why join the chapel?"

"I thought Master Frederick was recruiting; that's why I came." He seemed somewhat disappointed, "I've always wanted to be like him, a demon hunter, to repay his kindness! But before, there was no chance, it was always master and apprentice, not open like now."

"You can trust me completely; I carry on the master's legacy, including the keys to the chapel. I am the successor of the hunters' chapel," Noah assured.

"Really? Can you perform Master Frederick's impaling curse?" he asked skeptically.

Nuin Edge. Noah silently recited the spell.

"I can."

"Prove it to me," Maden stood defiant.

"What?"

He took out a dried fish from his basket, placing it on the table: "I brought it with me when I entered the city today."

The desiccated fish, cured and devoid of moisture, felt solid just to look at, the frost on its surface suggesting it had been stored in an ice cellar.

Nuin Edge, Nuin Edge, Nuin Edge... Noah repeated the incantation internally, a spell taught to him by Jaffney in his final moments, and with Noah's excellent memory, the rhythm of the spell was firmly etched in his mind, impossible to forget.

The crowd's attention converged on Noah as he retrieved the gray blade from within his coat before they could comprehend his intention. With a swift, clean cut, the blade sliced through the fish, leaving a deep mark on the table.

"That's not the curse!" Maden exclaimed, surprised, then indignant.

"Of course, it isn't," Noah declared, holding up the blade. "This is a knife."

"I wanted to see your impaling curse!"

"Curse spells are for fighting demons, not for show or proving anything."

The onlookers stared at Noah, their expressions varied, but ultimately their gazes were drawn to the table, its incision sharp, the split precise.

"That's how it should be done!" Gladius shouted, "Use your knife to cut through obstacles, not your garbage incantations!"

"I never thought that way," Noah murmured. "Knife, crossbow, curse, and potion, I won't neglect any of them."

Noah turned to the last stranger, a man in his fifties or sixties, dressed in a simple robe, hard to imagine as a demon hunter.

"Why do you wish to become a demon hunter?" Noah inquired.

"Ah, Sir, you misunderstand," the elderly man stood up hurriedly to explain, "I'm here to serve."

"Oh," Noah had mistaken him for a seasoned warrior in hiding, but upon closer inspection, the old man's threadbare clothing, loose skin, and lean muscle indicated he was fit only for chores like sweeping, not battling demons.

"My name is Badi, from Greywood Hall," the old man continued. "Sir, I just need to get by. I can sweep floors, clean rooms, and I don't steal."

"I believe you," Noah nodded, sensing the earnest gaze of the old man, and added, "I'll pay you fifteen silver coins a month."

The old man relaxed in his seat, satisfied.

"What about our money?" Duven asked. "How much do we get?"

"You haven't officially joined the chapel yet. Allowances are only given once you're part of the chapel," Noah temporized. The truth was, demon hunters didn't have a steady income; the chapel served mainly as a place to sleep.

Once Noah found the funds, he planned on reforming everything. He believed demon hunters should have a basic income, enough to support themselves. The chapel should protect hunters, provide training, and support intelligence and financial needs, making everything standardized. The chapel could act as a headquarters, with so many unused rooms, it had been a waste previously. Before, hunters traveled in master-apprentice pairs across Romen's countryside, seeking opportunities, returning to the chapel only for festivals and celebrations, leaving it inhabited by only the master, more like a private residence.

Living alone in such a grand chapel was comfortable but wasteful. Noah could live like the masters before him, enjoying solitude in the great hall, but he preferred change, allowing others to join, utilizing the chapel's vast space, adding new blood to the organization, expanding and building upon it, seeking more support for his cause.

"How do we officially join?" Maden inquired, "I heard you have to hunt a demon first."

"There's an excellent opportunity right now," Noah placed his gray blade on the table.

"Such a sharp knife," Duven couldn't help but praise.

"Tonight, I found the trail of a massive demon outside," Noah announced, and instantly, the expressions of his audience shifted dramatically—intrigued, eager, wary, and fearful in turn.

"If you aspire to become demon hunters," Noah spoke slowly, "follow me out of here, to hunt it down."

They were afraid, they panicked, as was human nature. Noah watched them.

And I intend to transform them from timid mortals into steadfast hunters.