A Visitor's Request

After a day and night of exhaustive labor, Noah immediately fell asleep upon lying in bed, his mind conjuring a kaleidoscope of bizarre dreams. Faces familiar and strange melded into the fleeting images before him. He tried to approach and speak to them, seeking their aid, wanting to share his thoughts. The vague phantasms stared back at Noah with their stiff gazes. Among them were both the dead and the living, and Noah wished to share his plans with them.

—The dreamscape shattered abruptly, cleaved in two.

"Wake up, Noah," Gladius clamored. "Time waits for no one."

"I'm dreaming," Noah insisted on staying within the realm of dreams, looking back at the sorrowful shadows, "Let me finish my dream."

"Not a million dreams can alter reality," Gladius yanked Noah from his slumber, and he awoke.

Noah climbed out of his cold, hard bed, and after a moment of disorientation, forced himself to confront the reality of a new day.

He made his way to the dining area at the base of the tower, where a modest meal awaited—blood sausages, pumpkin pancakes, pea stew, and a basket filled with loaves of bread. Ines and Duven were already seated at the table.

"Who made this?" Noah inquired.

"Maden," Duven indicated the kitchen, where Noah saw Maden stoking the stone hearth.

"Do you have tasks for us, Lord Noah?" Ines asked from her seat.

"Send Maden to buy bedding, lamp oil, torches, and charcoal. I'll give you the money shortly," Noah instructed.

"There's someone in the great hall waiting for you," Ines said, nodding toward the direction of the hall.

"Who is it?" Noah picked up a piece of bread.

"Don't know, a strange man. He only said you wouldn't refuse his invitation," Ines glanced back toward the hall.

Noah now had an inkling of who it might be. He finished his bread and crossed the corridor linking the side tower to the great hall. Upon entering the desolate main chapel, he found Calvus from the West Coast sitting leisurely on a bench.

"You?" Noah looked puzzled. "What brings you here?"

"I mentioned we had some matters to attend to today," said Calvus, turning to Noah.

Noah certainly hadn't forgotten.

"I understand, but I find it peculiar that you came in person. People say this place is cursed."

"I'm not afraid of curses," Calvus shook his head. "I've encountered more 'curses' than one can count. Personally experiencing one or two doesn't bother me, especially when such a godly statue offers protection."

Noah turned to the statue they had brought back, surprised to find it now spotless, its blackened blood inexplicably cleansed, leaving no trace. How could that be possible?

"Did anything happen?" Calvus asked, bewildered.

"Was the statue like this when you came in?"

"I suppose it doesn't pose a problem. A statue is just a statue, what changes could it have..."

"Hm, never mind," Noah responded absentmindedly, puzzled by the demonic blood's untraceable disappearance.

"Have you considered repairing the hole in the dome?" Calvus pointed to the tear in the chapel's ceiling where the winged demon had broken through, snowflakes sneaking through the gap.

"The funds are short, and it's such a high, costly repair," Noah considered. The coffer held 79 gold coins, enough for the foreseeable future but not for such a grand project. He figured it would take at least 200 gold coins for the repair.

"It seems you're experiencing a bit of a financial crisis."

"Yes, so we welcome all forms of assistance."

"I'd help a friend. Do you think we could be friends?"

Noah wasn't fond of Calvus's manner, but they did need help; otherwise, they were stuck. After some thought, he asked Calvus to wait a bit more and returned to the dining area.

"Ines." He handed her a heavy silver key.

"What's this?" Her eyes brightened at the sight of the key.

"I have to go out today. Use this key to open the library's door. You're in charge of sorting it out, see what's inside, then return the key to me."

"I remember this is the key to all secret storages. You trust me that much?" Ines's gaze was playful.

"Seriously, I appoint you as my deputy, the second in command of the hunters' chapel."

"Honored," Ines accepted the key, "I finally feel appreciated."

"You didn't before?"

"You don't understand," she sighed, "Most people are not only conservative and ignorant but also accustomed to doubt."

"Do well." Noah nodded, "If there's any trouble at the chapel, use this money to handle it."

He pulled out 20 gold coins from his pocket and handed them to Ines.

"You won't be disappointed." She pocketed the money.

Noah then turned to Duven.

"I'll set off after breakfast," Duven quickly responded.

With assignments delegated, Noah and Calvus left the chapel and stepped outside. Calvus donned a black woolen coat, chainmail underneath—a precaution against assassination, for he wouldn't wear such heavy attire daily without reason.

A grey carriage awaited on the street, its roof adorned with a ring of dark pink flowers, small and exquisite, fit for four people to sit facing each other. The coachman, face hidden behind a cloth mask, looked more like a brigand than a driver. The horses, mottled in color, wore heavy harnesses clad in metal buckles and polished chains.

Noah clambered into the carriage, nearly knocking his head on the roof. Calvus, with a graceful hand on the frame, slid in effortlessly.

"Let's go," he instructed the coachman.

With a light flick of the whip, the horses pulled the carriage along the street.

They passed a bustling market, the coachman loudly clearing a path through the maze of villagers. Amidst the chaos, he battled for passage with cattle and mules sprawled across the road.

Merchants set up pointed tents, underneath which beans, cured meats, and cabbages were displayed. Citizens weaved through the stalls, haggling and chatting noisily. The lively human scene contrasted starkly with the previous night's bloodshed, leaving Noah feeling bewildered. Most people just wanted to live their lives, but demons denied them even that chance.

"So what happened yesterday at the Earl's castle?" Calvus asked casually.

"...An attack," Noah was unsure how much to divulge.

"Related to demons, no doubt."

"Your people have detected it."

"As I said, many things don't need indepth investigation. Just listen to what people are talking about," Calvus's gaze swept the passersby, his expression calm.

Well-dressed figures resembling country gentry crossed the road, a sizable entourage adorning them. Dressed in bright colors and arrogant in demeanor, jesters chased after them, juggling oranges and spouting witty jokes hoping for a reward. As the carriage approached, the coachman ordered them aside, much to their disgruntlement.

"Do you dare tell us to move? Do you know who we are?" one of them protested loudly.

"Open your dog eyes," the coachman cursed, "This is the carriage of the Black Fox."

The gentry swallowed hard, exchanged glances, and quickly made way.

"Black Fox?" Noah queried.

"No matter the color, a fox is still a fox."

"You seem to wield significant influence."

"People love to exaggerate," a faint smile crossed Calvus's lips, "At first, they said I had two or three friends, knew the ins and outs of my neighbors. Then they claimed I managed over fifty people, day and night gossiping. Later, they imagined me as a monster, a sprite, a wizard, controlling half the city's power, the nocturnal ruler of Greywood Hall, even influencing the capital of the West Coast."

"Not far from the truth."

"Really? It's far too much. Compared to the real nobility, people like me are insignificant."

"I heard you are an information broker."

"That's true. That's the source of my somewhat detached status—I know more than others. In any society, information is a very valuable resource."

"You view things differently. Nobles look down from above; you look up from below."

"Which makes us especially narrow-minded," Calvus shook his head. "Nobles only need to communicate with each other to have the whole kingdom's affairs at their fingertips. Moreover, many of them have patrons in the Council of Nobles, able to recover from any setback with political support. But someone like me, a single blow could be crippling, all the phantom power dissipating into nothing."

"You at least have some power."

"And you have strength, a strength we envy. A person with personal power can always gain influence."

"I still don't know what you want me to do." Noah was reluctant to break the law.

"Strictly speaking, it's within your responsibilities, which is why I went out of my way asking for your help."

"A demon hunt?"

"Close," Calvus sighed, "...but not quite."

The carriage left Greywood Hall, traversing the grey expanse outside. Winter had arrived, Frostmoon followed by Stillmoon and Wintermoon, with the New Year after Wintermoon's end. Noah enjoyed New Year, but his life had been so eventful. Two New Years ago, he was in a village sipping bean soup; last New Year, he was roasting rabbits with Logan in the wilderness. This New Year, given the current pace of events, he couldn't be certain where he would be, what he would eat, how he would fare.

As for demons, they probably spend every year in Hell, slaughtering imps, consuming souls, fighting amongst themselves.

"Nonsense, we actively expand, whip the world, conquer all souls," Gladius boasted.

The carriage approached a cemetery.

The graveyard was eerie, with withered grass and neatly constructed low stone walls enclosing the somber field in silence. The horses halted when nearing it, refusing to enter no matter what, showing a clear aversion to the place.

"Where are we?" Noah stepped down from the carriage.

Calvus disembarked, surveying the vast cemetery with rows upon rows of tombstones under the grey sky.

"Hunters must be familiar with demons. Only you can help me now," he said.

"...Didn't you ask other demon hunters for help before? Like when Master Frederick was around." Noah was puzzled.

"They would have killed me," Calvus muttered softly.

"Why?"

"Because..." Calvus whispered, placing his hand on Noah's shoulder, "I am a demon worshipper."