The Divine Hunter

Chapter 596: Grayba the Black

Angouleme watched as the knights rode their horses into the woods. The light in her eyes dimmed as they disappeared. She leaned on the walls of the dorm, feeling the icy breeze cutting her skin as she sighed. She looked weaker than ever.

The other kids stood around the statue of Lebioda, spacing out, as if the witchers never came.

The bald guy beside the fence looked away. With uncertainty, he asked, "So we got through this without a hitch?"

"Oh, don't look so serious. Smile. Those amateurs took the bones and doll away. Even if more nightwraiths show up, it's their problem." Dino picked his sharp teeth with his pinky.

"Don't let your guard down. You've never witnessed how much of a problem witchers can be. I have seen it firsthand in Vizima." There was wariness and hatred in Daisy's eyes. She turned to Rumachi. "Follow them. Make sure they're truly gone, but do not alert them."

Rumachi leaned ahead and pounced forth, disappearing into the woods like a gust of wind. A solemn Daisy turned to Dino. "Dino, tell the kids to start the preparations. Someone from the city is coming in a couple of days."

***

Time went by. The sun was slowly moving toward the west, painting the skies with a shade of yellow. In the wilderness miles away from the north of Lebioda's temple, a sliver of smoke floated from a boulder shaped like a bowl. Around the warm campfire, two horses were grazing away.

Acamuthorm stiffly turned the gutted, golden-brown rabbit on the grill, frowning at the grass. Carl circled the skeletons on the ground, spreading white powder, chanting under his breath. When he was done making a circle, white light came forth, conjuring a hexagram. The witcher covered the circle with a piece of black cloth and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Acamuthorm, you bloody idiot! Why'd you push forward before you found any concrete evidence? That's like asking a wolf if it'd eaten any meat before. Of course they'd get mad! Now we're kicked out of that place. Happy?"

"Hey, I have evidence. And I gave you a look," Acamuthorm argued, his face red.

"You think I'm a mind reader? How was I supposed to know that you had shit for brains?" Carl heaved a sigh of disappointment. He dusted his hands off and plopped down on the grass around the campfire. He tore off a steaming piece of meat and munched into it. "I'm not going to argue with an idiot. If you had evidence, why didn't you show it?"

"Baldy kept a close eye on me, and the kids looked like they were possessed. I had no chance to bring it up to you." Acamuthorm simpered. He knew he was in the wrong, so he handed over a canteen for his companion to drink from. He told himself, "But now that we're out of the temple area, no one can do anything to us. I call this a tactical retreat."

"Stop talking nonsense and get to the point."

"Alright, Carl. I saw a mark on the wrists of Angouleme and that boy I picked at random." He quickly drew the web-shaped mark and the words written on it on the ground. "I couldn't remember where I saw this rune before, but I know it's got something to do with religion."

Carl stopped munching on his food. Quickly, he stood up and rummaged through Wilt's saddlebag. A moment later, he took out a grey leather journal. It was the notes he would go through. This book recorded the essence of everything his mentors taught him. Carl flipped through the book. The campfire crackled, its light shining on the young witcher's face.

Carl tossed a piece of firewood into the campfire. "Fine, even if you're right, then how do you explain the big cat and spider? There were no signs or traces of them in the temple. The god of omens might be an expert in curses, but not even it can summon monsters out of nowhere."

Carl took a swig of the chrysanthemum tea in the canteen, and he thought about that question. He thought about Rumachi and Dino and how they would sniff like beasts. He felt pressure from them, and they acted weirdly. He connected the dots.

"I got it. We had it all wrong from the start. It's something we overlooked. Those monsters never invaded the temple. They might have always been in the temple, so no one found out."

"What? But we searched the whole temple."

"Use your head. Think about it. Roy told us about his adventures. There's something about the god of omens in it."

Acamuthorm smacked the back of his head. His eyes shone, he got up, and he circled the campfire in excitement. "Nivellen, the bearheaded man in the outskirts of Vizima. Adda, princess of Vizima, cursed to be a striga. Alan, the leader of a troupe and a man cursed to be a werewolf. His children were cursed to be birds. They're humans, and yet they live as beasts, because they were cursed by the priests of the Lionhead Spider. So curses can turn humans into powerful monsters. In a sense, curses are a form of power as well."

Carl stared at the fire and said aloud, "What we should've looked for weren't lynxes or spiders, but werepanthers, weretigers, or werespiders. If I take this further, the guys who are most possibly cursed would be Rumachi and Dino, the guys hanging around Daisy. They run the temple, so it'd be easy for them to erase their traces."

The moon rose into the air. Silvery moonlight and crackling flames shone on Acamuthorm. The young witcher was shocked. "So the killers we've been looking for have always been right in front of us? And they misled us?" Acamuthorm smiled bitterly. Sheepishly. It was a preposterous and laughable truth, but one that was reasonable.

"That's what I think happened."

"But why'd they kill the kids in such a horrifying way? They used painful deaths to sacrifice to the god of omens?"

"If they only wanted to sacrifice the kids, then those children would only be consumables. There wouldn't be so many survivors." Carl shook his head. "The real reason is none of our business. We should think about our next course of action. I don't like to say this, but we're just amateurs. First lesson they taught us was to pick enemies who are on par with us. The god of omens clearly isn't on that list. I suggest we go to Lan Exeter and contact the brotherhood."

"Haven't you had enough of drowners? This is the perfect chance to show your skills. Seize it. We have to figure this whole thing out." Acamuthorm cocked his eyebrow. He grabbed the horse's braid and smacked Scorpion's rear. He argued, "If we give up just like this, we can't brag to our friends."

"You do have shit for brains. Learn how to assess the situation." Carl shook his head. Worried, he said, "I don't want Vicki to be a widow this young."

"She's not even fifteen. Hasn't even held your hand. She's not going to be a widow if she's not married. Oh, and I have more proof." Acamuthorm took out the dirty ragdoll from the saddlebag. The light of the flames shone on its patches and dried blood. He was reminded of what Angouleme told him.

If you have so many questions, why don't you ask them? Acamuthorm smiled and pulled the patch away. "Perhaps the answer to the kids' murder lies within here."

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