Tracing Evidence

After parting ways with Oakley, Noah made his way to the Grey Tree Hall Square.

This was a place steeped in history, where in ancient times a great sacred tree had been planted, living for over a thousand years. When the Frostfall barbarians invaded, the Tribe of the Winter's Fang cut the tree down, set it ablaze, and burned the statues of the Roman gods, replacing them with the nameless totems of the northerners.

After the Romans reclaimed their land, they erased the vestiges of the pagan faith to make people forget their conquered past. The Roman lords paved the ground with stone bricks and built a gallows to maintain rule, complete with gibbets and guillotines. Close to the edge, a few people were on display.

Noah drew closer to see about three people locked in pillories, a torturous device that included a large wooden pole with hinged boards. The top board, covered in heavy metal, bore down on the lower one, with cutouts for the offender's head and hands. The weight always pressing downward meant the offenders couldn't withdraw their limbs, leaving them helplessly confined. Since the device was raised off the ground, they had to stand bent over, their legs under constant strain, unable to move their heads or hands. Just imagining their discomfort made Noah uneasy, but once he read their crimes—thievery—he lost all sympathy.

"Are you members of the Thieves Guild?" Noah started with the offender on the far left.

The man was in his fifties, with graying hair and cracked lips, his weary eyes disregarding Noah's question. He likely wanted to respond but was utterly drained, unable to even lift his head or shift his gaze, a chain between his legs rendering him immobile.

Noah turned to the middle thief, an old woman with disheveled hair and a corpulent body, making it hard to imagine her as a thief. She looked up at Noah, spat at him disdainfully, and Noah dodged it, much to the amusement of a nearby guard.

He then examined the youngest thief on the right, a man in his twenties with premature white hair and sharp, narrow eyes that embodied the adage "thief-eyed." Despite his bare feet and tattered burlap trousers, he stood on a footrest attached to the pillory.

"Are you members of the Thieves Guild?" Noah repeated.

"What the hell do you want?" the young thief cursed.

"I've got a bone to pick with your guild, so I came to ask if you've ever raided the Hunters' Chapel," Noah said, despising thieves, especially those who had robbed him.

"Give me your ass to play with, and I'll tell you," he grinned lewdly. "Sweet and tender kid."

"..." Noah felt disgusted.

"Hey, tender buttocks," the youth continued, grinning toothily. "You're a hunter recruit? Don't worry, once we're out, we'll visit the chapel again, and I'll have you screaming beneath me in bed."

"I'll find your hideout first," Noah shook his head, "and root you out of the city."

"Hehe... hehe..." The young thief leered at Noah with a salacious gaze, his eyes practically dripping with hunger. "Just you wait, I'll be coming for you. I like your waist and your ass. Hehe..."

"Can't we just hang them?" Noah asked the guard.

"It's unwise to let anger disregard the law," the guard explained. "According to Lord Reine's decree, theft between 10 and 100 gold coins results in confiscation and public display for seven days."

Just seven days. In a week, these scumbags would be back in society, stealing again. The thought infuriated Noah as the young thief continued to leer and taunt him.

Noah approached the bulletin board on the square, cluttered with requests and missions. Romans had many adventurers who traveled far and wide for the promise of rewards, tackling challenges from street squabbles to dragon hunts.

Noah posted the chapel's recruitment notice prominently, a guard securing it with nails.

"Hunters' Chapel is hiring," the guard read Noah's posting. "Good heavens, can you even recruit anyone for that place?"

"Why not? Fighting demons, protecting everyone," Noah retorted.

"If it weren't for tradition, I would've arrested you by now. The law doesn't allow for walking around the city armed, especially with contraband," the guard pointed out.

"We're doing the right thing," Noah insisted.

"The right thing... like letting winged demons kill dozens, housing demons in the chapel, misusing spells that affect the environment, flouting laws for the sake of hunting demons, frequently associating with witches and wizards, feeling superior for wielding magic..." the guard lamented. "If all that's right, I don't know what wrong is anymore."

Noah felt a tinge of guilt. "I'll make things right. I know the chapel needs restructuring."

"Impossible. As long as you're dealing with those quirky spirits, you'll never conform. Are you Master Frederick's new recruit?"

"Master Frederick died in battle. We're in a difficult phase, starting from scratch," Noah sighed.

"Alright, if anyone's interested, I'll send them your way... You're useful sometimes, and this recent murder case is complicated. They say a witch is lurking in the city."

"I'm on my way to investigate," Noah nodded. "What do you know about the witch?"

"She seems to command a pack of dogs, according to witnesses. That's all I know," the guard shrugged.

Dogs, Noah pondered.

He left the square, asking Gladius, "Have you found anything in the city? The demonic beast?"

"Ah, hunting demons, I can't wait to absorb fresh, robust souls, I want to eat... I want so much... The best thing in the mortal realm is to consume a thousand souls in the morning, a thousand at noon, and a thousand at night," Gladius sounded content. "But I haven't found anything."

"If you can't find it, you won't get to eat anything."

Noah ventured to Birchbottom Street, which was desolate, seemingly due to the incident from the previous night. People preferred to take a roundabout path, all the craft workshops that sold wool and textiles were closed, and the upper windows of the houses were shut tight. Dried blood marred the ground, visible alongside the snow—likely from the demonic killing before the snowfall.

He crouched down by the blood, sniffing the air.

"What are you doing?" Gladius was puzzled.

"Smelling for scents," Noah answered inwardly. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"You can't smell demons."

"But I've heard that powerful demon hunters can sense demons, so I thought it must exist," Noah was puzzled.

"Of course not, demons are odorless. You're wasting your time," Gladius mocked.

"Then what have you found?"

"A strong scent of demons."

"...You just said demons have no scent."

"What, you... I'm not like you. I sense things from a rather unique perspective. Follow my directions now. Forward," Gladius commanded.

Noah circled around following Gladius's directions, turned into a shadowy alley, and spotted a large, intimidating dog. Mostly light yellow, but with black fur from its neck to its nose and amber eyes, it bared sharp teeth at Noah and barked aggressively, a sound so fierce it stirred an innate fear, the kind that makes one wary of an attack.

Being a farmboy, Noah knew the trick to handle dogs—pretend to pick up a stone to throw. In his experience, this usually sent any dog running, a fear ingrained in their bloodline. Yet, this dog didn't budge, staying in a ready stance, growling continuously, ready to pounce.

"Kill it, let me taste its freshness," Gladius was eager.

"If you keep babbling, I'll cut you," Noah agreed with the principle, drawing his grey knife.

The dog, almost understanding human nature, weakened at the sight of Noah's blade and turned to flee a few steps before looking back with a hungry gaze, as if it would attack at any moment.

"Is that a demon dog?" Noah asked Gladius.

"Just an ordinary dog. Go chase it."

Noah, bolstered by bravado, feigned an attack with the knife, driving the dog to flee and leading him across a street to a massive building, where it darted inside.

He looked up to see the Grey Tree Hall Temple.

The temple was grand, its front colonnade supported by over eight pillars. The doors were slightly open—the crack the dog had slipped through. Both flanking porticos were topped by purple-roofed towers guarding the central spire, and at each angle of the towers, statues of lesser gods kneeled, loyal guardians who ascended to reward their divine service after their mortal deeds.

The temple was the most important building in the city, where priests communicated with the gods' hidden domains, relayed the people's pleas, and interpreted divine commands. The Romans worshipped their ancestors and heroes of history, believing they resided in a splendid place called the Beautiful Gate after death.

"I can smell my kin leading here," Gladius confirmed.

Demons hiding in a holy temple were an absurdity.

"What now, rush in! After devouring that demonic beast, I'll have the energy to take us back to Hell for more adventures, to taller, more prosperous places filled with treasure and legend!"

"And more danger too. Isn't what you ate before enough?" Noah asked.

"Far—far from enough, nowhere near enough to restore me to a fearsome demon lord!"

"I never planned to turn you into a demon lord."

"You will want to. If you help me, I'll share more with you...", Gladius kept tempting.

Entering the temple would be challenging, but Noah quickly noticed a bald, pale acolyte at the entrance, who watched him with an intense, indifferent gaze.