"Yawn~"
Akamir stole a glance at Zia, who yawned loudly.
The young woman quickly sat straight while averting her gaze.
"We are almost there," He said, looking out of the window. "You can rest when we arrive."
"I will take you up on the offer," she replied, still keeping a straight face.
Akamir nodded as he looked out of the window.
The solitude of a small town was visible from here.
"It's quite bizarre," Akamir mumbled, looking around.
The entire town was covered with forest from every direction except the front.
A tall wall almost fifteen metres high covered the entire town, protecting them from the beasts.
But what stood out was the tall building at the very end.
Twice the height of the walls, it stood out the most.
'...A church.'
Akamir guessed as he moved his head inside, leaning back on the seat.
Zia followed his gaze before resting her chin in her palm. "Doesn't really look like a place nobles would visit, huh?"
"No," Akamir murmured. "That's why it's perfect."
Their carriage rattled softly as it descended the worn path toward the town's gate.
A few guards in dull armor waited at the entrance, spears crossed lazily until they noticed the crest on the carriage door.
They straightened immediately.
Zia peeked out the curtain. "Looks like someone gave them a heads-up."
"It seems so," Akamir mumbled as he looked out.
The gate creaked open, the scent of pine and damp stone filled the cabin.
The town within was quiet—too quiet.
Cobblestone streets stretched out in neat rows, but not many people walked them.
Even the few they did see kept their heads low, not daring to meet the carriage's gaze.
"We will meet the town chief first," Akamir said, looking at the middle-aged man on the horse.
Danzo frowned but nodded nonetheless. "As you wish."
The carriage moved at his words until they arrived at an old shabby house.
A bald old man stood outside the house, his back slightly hunched while he continued to wipe his face with a handkerchief.
When the carriage stopped, Akamir stepped out.
The old man quickly walked toward him. "Welcome, sir, welcome."
"Go back to the mansion," Akamir said, looking at Zia who was about to get down. "Make sure everything is cleaned."
"What about you?" she asked, tilting her head.
"I will be back in a while," he replied, closing the door. "Now go."
Akamir then looked at the three soldiers. "Go with her."
Danzo was about to argue but stopped when the others moved without a word.
They deemed that following orders was better.
'Good for me.'
Akamir finally focused on the old man.
"What's your name?" he asked, looking at him.
The old man bowed his head respectfully, his voice raspy but clear. "Daris, my lord. I've served as the town's chief for over three decades now."
"Mind giving me a tour of the town, Daris?" Akamir asked, looking around.
"S-sure, my lord," he replied, taking the lead as they walked.
Most of the places were abandoned or hadn't been in use for a long time.
Akamir kept his eyes on everything, observing whatever he could.
"How many people are there in this town?" he asked, looking back at the old man. "Give me a number."
"Two thousand, my lord," Daris replied, his voice cautious. "Most of them are elderly or children."
"What about laborers and other working men?"
Daris hesitated before answering.
"Most of the able-bodied men either joined the regional militia… or never returned from the woods."
Akamir's eyes narrowed. "Never returned?"
Daris nodded grimly. "There have been disappearances, my lord. Especially those sent to gather herbs near the church grounds or the deeper forest line."
"The witch, huh?"
Daris gave a tired chuckle.
Akamir stopped walking, his gaze locking onto the tall building in the distance. "That place—has it always been there?"
"No, my lord," Daris said, voice lowering. "It was rebuilt nearly sixty years ago. The old temple collapsed in a storm. When the Church sent builders, they sent... new people too. People who didn't leave."
Akamir nodded in response, staring at the church.
"Would you like to check the slums?" Daris asked, looking back at him.
"No." Akamir changed his direction. "Let's go check out the church."
Daris flinched. "The… church, my lord?"
"Yes." Akamir's tone left no room for argument. "I didn't come here for scenery."
Akamir strode ahead, leaving Daris to shuffle behind him.
The path to the church wasn't well-kept.
Grass was neatly trimmed around it, but the air grew colder with every step they took.
Akamir looked at the church as it loomed closer.
A structure of pale stone and black-tinted glass, it looked more like a mansion than a place of worship.
Statues of a lady holding a lamp warped into unfamiliar symbols adorned its arched windows.
Bells echoed from the inside.
Birds sang near it.
'Goddess Morana.'
Akamir thought, staring at the statue on the windows.
But—.
His gaze flickered to an abnormal person tied to a tree on the side.
His face was entirely covered with his long black hair, and he wore nothing except a ragged cloth wrapped around his waist.
Daris quickly walked forward and picked up a stone.
"Hey—!"
Smack!
Before Akamir could stop him, he threw the stone, hitting the man in the face.
'...What?'
Akamir was stunned as Daris walked towards him with a satisfied smile.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, looking at Daris.
"He is a sinner, my lord," Daris replied, his voice laced with fury. "He tried to get us killed by scapegoating the sacrifice we offer."
"...How?"
Akamir couldn't help but ask.
'And what type of sacrifice do they offer?'
"He tried to free all the animals for sacrificing," Daris replied, shaking his head. "He calls himself an animal lover, but he is just a madman."
Akamir nodded as he looked back at the church.
'Strange. Why do I feel someone is watching me?'
The more he stared at the church, the more it became evident.
'...This is troublesome.'
"Tell me more about this place."
Akamir said, walking away from the church.
"Yes, my lord."
---
"Welcome back."
As soon as Akamir walked inside the mansion, Zia greeted him.
Akamir gave a small nod in response, brushing dust off his sleeves as he stepped inside.
The mansion smelled of dried herbs and old wood, but it was surprisingly clean.
'She must've worked fast.'
A fire had been lit in the hearth, and a faint aroma lingered in the air.
Zia tilted her head, watching his expression closely. "You were gone longer than expected. Did something happen?"
Akamir didn't answer right away. Hanging his coat, he turned to her.
"There's something wrong with that church."
Zia frowned. "How so?"
He walked to the window, pulling the curtain slightly aside and staring at the looming silhouette of the church.
"The people here fear it, but they don't even know why. The chief tried to play it off, but the signs are there."
He turned back to look at her.
"Honestly, this place is creepy."
His words made Zia knit her brows together. "Are we going back, then?"
"Nope," he replied, shaking his head. "We are staying for a month."
Zia let out a tired sigh. "Then, I should make you something to eat—"
"It's fine," Akamir replied, shaking his head. "I don't have any appetite. I will be in my room. Don't disturb me."
Zia tilted her head in confusion. "Did you get another picture of Princess—?"
"Shut up."
Akamir groaned as he walked upstairs to his room.
Opening the door, he walked inside before falling down on the bed.
Akamir glanced around the room.
There wasn't much, a nightstand where a glass of water was placed, along with a notebook and a lamp.
Even though spacious, the bed took a lot of space.
"I am tired," he mumbled, closing his eyes.
It didn't take him long to fall asleep.
---
In the late night, a few hours before dawn.
The window of Akamir's room slowly opened up.
Two men wearing black clothes to blend with the night climbed in.
Their footsteps were silent and well-practiced.
One of them gestured toward the bed.
Akamir lay still on his back, his breathing soft and rhythmic—completely unaware.
The first intruder pulled out a curved dagger.
Its blade shimmered faintly, coated in a dull green venom. One stab was all it would take.
He moved closer.
Another step.
Then—
The assassin froze.
A pair of crimson eyes stared at him.