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Chapter 2: Hunters and Hunted

Description: Evan and Leuven have left Haren Castle. On their arduous journey to the capital Rabensberg, Leuven only really realizes what a dangerous world he has ventured into. But even though he had hoped to continue to feel secure in the security that Evan offered him, Evan has other plans. They part ways as the half-demon prepares to meet an old acquaintance.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5


Part 1

The wagon rumbled along the narrow path, whirling up dust, while the mare dragged the heavy vehicle behind her, snorting.

Wrapped in a blanket, Leuven tried to escape the bitter cold that prevailed on this frosty morning in the foothills of Rabensberg.

He could barely feel his fingers. They had gone numb from the frosty morning wind and felt like foreign objects.

The fog billowed around the wagon and made it difficult to see.

A shiver ran down the young man’s spine. He feared that a wild animal might appear in front of them at any moment and attack him.

The young man kept casting worried glances at the side of the road. Countless poles stuck out of the damp ground.

Gruesome heads were enthroned on them, impaled and rigid. Their lifeless eyes, from which death stared, seemed to literally follow after Leuven.

The skin was weathered and eaten by maggots, and the teeth grinned in macabre smiles.

The mist circled around them, like a restless soul pining for her body.

The young man flinched as a crow landed on one of the skulls with a caw and dug its beak into its empty eye socket to pick out some scraps of flesh.

The faces were barely recognizable; Leuven could only guess whether they had once been people, animals or even monsters. Gnawed, weathered, a silent witness to suffering and death.

With a queasy feeling, he averted his gaze and turned to Evan, who was sitting on his wagon behind the tarpaulin.

He had made himself comfortable among the boxes and bundles, apparently unimpressed by the horrible scene at the side of the road.

“The area around Harendorf was definitely more appealing. I can’t believe that the capital smells so like death and decay,” the merchant remarked, wrinkling his nose, as a foul, putrid smell filled his nostrils.

“They should serve as a warning,” Evan replied, poking his head out of the tarp.

“Warning? If they plan to scare off honest merchants like me, then they will succeed. I wouldn’t walk these paths alone,” replied Leuven. Goosebumps rose on his back and he shook with disgust.

“Well, these routes are generally avoided by travelers. Rather, they are intended to keep demons and enemies away. Believe me, the main street is extremely safe.”

Leuven sighed and rolled his eyes. “I wanted to take that too, but because you’re so paranoid, I had to take a detour.”

“The main street is patrolled by soldiers. They search every single wagon. Once we get to the intersection you can turn onto the main road, but I have to take a different way into Rabensberg.”

The merchant let out a malicious laugh. “You somehow made it into Haren Castle. But now are you worried?”

“The castle of a lord of lower rank is also something different from the capital of Brunen. Not even a fly makes it through the gates without identification papers. I hope you have yours with you.”

Leuven nodded confidently. “But of course! I have them with me. It would also be crazy if not. But I guess you don’t have any documents?”

Evan crawled out from behind the tarpaulin, climbed onto the carriage seat and sat down next to the merchant. “I still have them, but they’re unlikely to be of any use to me.”

“Oh, the half-demon has papers. I’m a little surprised.”

An evil look met the young man.

“I was once human, I told you so,” Evan snorted. “But you saw the difficulty we had getting into Lord Dancker’s castle. Besides, my fifty-three years probably don’t show.”

Leuven yanked on the reins so hard that the mare neighed loudly and pawed wildly. “Fifty-three?” he asked in surprise.

The wagon rocked heavily and the sound of falling boxes could be heard from inside.

“Be careful!” scolded the half-demon, who had to hold on to the bench of the carriage seat to avoid falling down. “Yes, you heard me right. I’m aging… differently.”

The mare calmed down and took a steady walk.

Leuven laughed. “If I had known that. Here, maybe you should take my blanket. I don’t want the old man to catch a cold.”

“Stop it now or are you trying to provoke me?” Evan said and barked. “Will you watch the road or are you going to kill us?”

“Well, the ravages of time are already gnawing at you.” The merchant burst out laughing.

A loud clap sounded in the dark surroundings.

The pain ripped through Leuven’s entire jaw.

Evan didn’t hit hard, but it was warning enough for the young man.

The half-demon was obviously not in the mood for jokes.

Trembling, Leuven opened his mouth. A quiet apology escaped his lips.

The half-demon sat next to him with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

Finally he sighed. “Forgive me. But I didn’t hit hard either.”

“It didn’t feel like it either.” A tear of pain ran down Leuven’s cheek. “I hardly feel it.”

“You know, I’m not happy about the situation. There was a time when everything was much simpler, but it’s almost just fleeting images that wander through my head.” Evan looked dreamily into the thick fog, then pulled a small piece of parchment from his belt pouch.

“It’s none of your business, but I think I can show you. Here are all the names that I have been able to collect over time.”

“Names?” Leuven glanced at the parchment before returning his gaze to the road. “What kind of names?”

“Names of different people. I’ve already been able to cross out some of them, others are being added. The list seems endless, but it is what keeps me alive. I won’t give up and won’t stop until every name on this list has been crossed out and no new ones are added.”

“So the list is keeping you alive? Are they special people?”

Evan looked away. “At least one of them is responsible for my living as a half-demon.”

“Hmm,” Leuven looked sadly over at his companion. “And what about family?”

“It’s just me and the list.”

“May I ask what happened, what did these people do to you?”

A moment of silence later, when Leuven had almost given up hope of an answer, Evan began to speak in a low voice: “If you remember, I already told you that my heart was ripped out. These people could be responsible. I’ve been looking for almost twenty years.”

“For twenty years and you’re still looking?” the young merchant repeated, although he immediately regretted it.

“Unfortunately, the search turned out to be more difficult than I expected. I was able to cross out names, but only a few were helpful.”

For a moment, Leuven was frozen. He couldn’t imagine the pain Evan had to go through.

“Do you have any more detailed information now?” he blurted out as he gasped.

“More or less.” Evan looked at his list with anger in his eyes.

Leuven remembered the long scar on Evan’s chest. So his story seemed true and he hadn’t meant to make a fool of him.

“Is that why you’re on the way to Rabensberg?” he asked, surprised.

“That’s right.”

Both were silent for a moment.

Suddenly the half-demon screamed. “Stop! – Stop immediately!”

The young merchant looked confused into the deep fog. When he realized what was hiding in front of them, he pulled on the reins with all his might.

Protesting loudly, the mare lifted her muscular legs into the air and whinnied and blew steam from her nostrils.

The wagon suddenly stopped.

“By the gods, we clearly chose the wrong path,” Leuven commented, burying himself in his blanket.

He saw five lifeless bodies lining the path ahead.

Their faces distorted and their limbs stretched from their bodies. In some cases an arm or a leg was even missing.

The fog enveloped the corpses like a sad veil.

Leuven could not even determine the gender of two of them, so disfigured were their bodies by the merciless violence they had suffered.

Their blood, a dark guide.

Evan jumped vigorously from the wagon and inspected the lifeless bodies.

Alarmed, Leuven asked from the carriage seat: “Were they Karraks?”

The terrible encounter with these hideous creatures had given him enough horrible dreams.

“No,” Evan replied, his voice calm but with a hint of concern. “The tracks don’t match Karraks. It must have been something bigger.”

Leuven’s body tensed and goosebumps covered his entire body.

When Evan stood up, looked into the distance through the fog and shortly afterwards disappeared into the milky veil, this finally upset the young merchant.

“Evan? – Evan, what are you doing, where are you?”

It was quiet until, after a while, a black silhouette loomed in the fog and Evan appeared in front of the wagon again.

“They must have been refugees on their way to the capital. There’s a completely destroyed carriage up ahead, but there’s nothing valuable in it. Some half-digested food, some tattered clothing,” Evan explained as he looked down at the bodies and inspected them. “Who else would be crazy enough to take this route? Maybe refugees from the East.”

“Who else would be so crazy as to take this route?  – We, Evan, we!” Leuven protested, sliding excitedly into the middle of the bench.

Evan shrugged and looked at his companion dryly. “Yeah, all right, except for us, of course.” He climbed back onto the carriage seat and pushed Leuven back to his side. “Come on now, we should keep going.”

“Are you crazy?” Leuven rumbled. ” I won’t be driving any further.”

“Leuven, I don’t know what’s in this fog, so please get the wagon moving, otherwise I’ll throw you off and take the reins myself. Is that what you want?” Evan’s words were threatening and his eyes conveyed determination.

“All right, all right. You should work on your aggression, really,” the young man stammered, pulling on the reins. The wagon started moving with a jerk.

A frightening sound pierced the air as the wagon drove over the dead bodies.

Leuven tried to cleverly avoid them, but the fog made his visibility difficult.

“Absolutely disgusting,” he said as he heard the cracking sound of a skull being crushed under the weight of one of the wagon wheels. “Hopefully you will now find peace, wherever your journey takes you.”

“Unfortunately it’s too late for them, but I’d like to get out of this fog, so hurry up.”

Leuven shook his head at Evan’s apparent insensitivity.

It took a while for the fog to clear and the sun to rise on the horizon in shades of red and orange.

A large tree revealed itself, with the corpses of various creatures dangling from its black, dead branches.

“The king’s soldiers can hardly be responsible for this. This looks like the work of the Hunters’ Guild,” Evan said in a low voice. He frowned. It was easy to see that he was worried.

“You mean the demon hunters? – Here in Rabensberg?” asked Leuven, surprised and with a hint of curiosity.

“Since they broke away from the church, they have been operating independently and across borders.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I’ve never seen one of them. Maybe I’ll meet one of them.”

“It’s better to stay out of their way,” Evan said.

“Why? – I’ve heard all sorts of adventurous stories about them, it would certainly be exciting to meet one of them in person.”

The half-demon looked at him intently. “Not everything you hear about them is true.” He took his travel bag out of the carriage. “So, this is where we part ways.”

Leuven slumped his shoulders in disappointment.

“And what are you going to do?” he asked in a sad voice.

Leuven’s firm grip on the reins brought the mare to an abrupt halt. A loud clatter and crash echoed from inside the wagon as the crates were tossed about in the sudden movement.

“I will seek out an old acquaintance, but I must find another way into the city,” Evan nodded farewell and leapt down from the wagon.

He did not flinch. His face exuded icy coldness.

Had he been able, Leuven might have bowed before Evan, but he simply nodded in return. “It was an honor to meet you. Farewell, may we meet again someday.”

Without a backward glance at the departing wagon, Evan strode away.

He felt the merchant’s eyes lingering on him as they slowly distanced themselves from each other.

Simple-minded Leuven, thought Evan, did he truly believe we would travel together forever?

“But I must admit, I never thought he would go to such lengths,” he whispered to himself.

Quickly, he pushed aside his thoughts.

As he descended from a hill into the valley, his eyes were fixed on the tall towers and the wall surrounding Rabensberg, which he could already glimpse in the distance.

The rising smoke from the many chimneys mingled with the mist still hovering over the capital.

Since the end of the great war against the Cardíz Empire, Rabensberg had stood as the new capital of the realm, after the port city of Thaburg had been razed to the ground in the final battle against the imperial invaders.

But even at that time, Evan had not yet lived, so he only heard stories of the heroic soldiers who risked their lives to defend the last bastion.

Even if the capital fell, the remaining forces gathered courage and determination, managing to reclaim much of their homeland and drive out the enemy.

Rabensberg, though far from the coast, had quickly become the center of trade in the kingdom and was also protected from attacks from the sea.

Time and again, Evan had been to Rabensberg, yet time and again he had to find a new way in.

Every time he wanted to enter the city anew, the path he had taken before had either been blocked by the guards or bricked up.

He never knew which way he could take to get in and searched for a new loophole each time.

It was already noon, and the sun was at its highest point when he reached the city wall through a small patch of woods.

The stench of excrement filled his nostrils, bringing tears to his eyes.

In front of him lay the sewer exit, an almost two-meter-high and wide gate of rusty iron. Muck oozed through the thick bars.

The builder had apparently deliberately refrained from diverting the sewage into a river or stream. Instead, the stinking broth poured freely in front of the city walls, forming a malodorous pool of excrement.

Evan knew this way into the city, but last time, no one had bothered to install an iron grate.

Apparently, several shady characters had already made their way into the city through the sewers, resulting in this route being blocked as well.

Evan waded through the muck, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Gaining entry to the city in this manner did not appeal to him, but he had no other choice. He felt revulsion covering his entire body.

Evan shook the iron grate. One of the bars broke loose from the wall.

How long has it been since I was last here? pondered the half-demon as he held the rusty bar in his hand.

Yes, he had more strength in his hands than an ordinary human, but with little effort, he had already dislodged the second iron bar from its anchoring.

Evan didn’t want to know what besides sewage was being channeled through the drain, causing the grate to decay so badly.

His face twisted in disgust as he caught the scent from within.

The half-demon climbed into the sewer and ventured deep inside. The further he walked, the stronger the unpleasant smell became.

In addition to the brown sludge flowing between his boots, other unappetizing things clung to the walls.

He couldn’t see exactly what the sticky green mass next to his head was, but he didn’t really want to find out.

Several rats swam through the muck, squeaking at the half-demon and glaring menacingly with their glowing eyes.

Evan hated rats. He had no problem fighting demons or voracious monsters, but when he spotted a rat, it sent a shiver down his spine.

That was probably due to an incident that had happened years ago.

Back then, he was traveling in a small coastal town. Unfortunately, he arrived at the wrong time because that year the plague broke out there, and swarms of rats overran the town.

In an almost hopeless fight for survival, these malicious rodents buried him under themselves.

Evan could already envision them tearing him apart alive.

He shook himself. No further thought should be wasted on that situation.

Evan tried to ignore the rodents and reach the end of the sewer as quickly as possible.

The deeper he plunged into the stinking tunnel, the tighter he felt. The walls seemed to be closing in. A suffocating feeling enveloped the half-demon.

After a while, he spotted a hole in the wall, through which sunbeams were streaming.

The hole was only a hand’s breadth wide, far too small to pass through.

Evan briefly considered whether he could bring down the dilapidated wall, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

He wanted to attract as little attention as possible; this would be the worst choice he could make.

However, an exit was soon revealed to him.

A grated door, which seemed to lead up to the street, stood slightly ajar. As if someone had cleared a way out for him.

He didn’t have to think long.

To escape the stench and the rats, he didn’t hesitate and went through the door.

Evan found himself in the slums of Rabensberg.

The street was a single muddy path, riddled with deep ruts and puddles reflecting the murky water.

Here and there, dirty children in tattered clothes squeezed through the narrow alleys, searching for something edible.

The residents of the district, dressed in torn and weathered garments, wandered with weary steps through the marshy paths.

Their faces reflected their exhaustion.

Some coughed as they clung to the walls of the dilapidated houses, while others gazed into the distance with grim looks, as if searching for hope in the bleak surroundings.

The old half-timbered houses seemed like silent witnesses of days gone by when the district may have still carried a hint of dignity.

But now, they seemed to groan and creak under the weight of the years.

The windows, mere remnants of their former glory, were haphazardly covered with dirty rags to keep out the morning autumn wind.

In this grim backdrop, the sounds of city life mingled with the dismal murmurs of the inhabitants, trying to navigate their way through this harsh reality.

It was hardly imaginable that such a district existed in the capital of the glorious Kingdom of Brunen. Yet, that was the reality.

It was best for no one to wander here.

Indeed, this was the only district Evan had seen of the city so far.

Here, no one asked who he was or where he came from.

As long as he didn’t carry a jingling purse or obviously valuable items, no one spared him even a glance.

The residents of this district had their own problems.

Occasionally, Evan could see a lone city guard wandering through the dirty streets.

The guards’ armor stood out amidst the dreary scene. They were supposed to be guardians of law and order.

But the sad truth was that the guards seemed more like shadowy observers.

Their eyes slid indifferently over the miserable streets and the drawn faces of the poor. Yet, there was no trace of compassion.

They purposefully avoided the sick, as if mere contact with their suffering was contagious.

Evan could see them deliberately avert their gaze, wrinkle their noses, and pretend that the misery around them didn’t exist.

In their greed for coins, the city guards could be bribed by the shady characters of the district.

They looked away as thieves stole their loot right under the otherwise watchful eyes of the guards and ignored the desperate pleas of those who needed their help.

Bribes changed hands, and in return, the soldiers turned a blind eye when something forbidden happened.

They were not the heroes, clad in shining armor, protecting the slums from injustice and danger; instead, they served as silent witnesses to oppression and misery.

When an innocent passerby crossed the path of a city guard, they often encountered a ruthless encounter.

The guards shoved the unfortunate souls aside as if they were nothing more than annoying obstacles on their way to more important matters.

Evan hurried through a narrow alley, at the end of which some people sat gathered on the ground. They were discussing. What about, the half-demon couldn’t understand.

They were covered in dirt from head to toe, and their clothes were moth-eaten and disintegrating into nothingness.

There was no other place in Brunen that screamed poverty and, above all, stank, like the slums of Rabensberg, which was actually called Lunde and was once established as a trading post.

But after it was relocated, the poorer folk settled there, and it didn’t take long for the shady characters of the land to settle in as well.

Anyone planning something criminal or fleeing from justice found refuge here, as long as they had forged identification papers, enough coins in their pockets, or, like Evan, found another way in.

He was firmly convinced that the authorities knew about these injustices, but their indifference spoke volumes. Perhaps they even harbored a silent satisfaction in isolating the poorest of society behind the walls and thus segregating them from the other districts.

As Evan was about to turn into another alley, an unfamiliar lady stood in his way.

She smelled of sweat and soot. Her hair was greasy, and a grayish-blonde strand clung to her sweaty forehead.

She was scantily clad, wearing a tattered skirt and tightly laced corset. Her décolletage offered deep insights.

“Well, handsome, looking for an adventure?” she purred, revealing her blackened teeth as if it were her most seductive smile.

Evan raised an eyebrow and replied coldly, “Thank you, but not today.”

His rejection couldn’t disguise the fact that his gaze recoiled with disgusted discomfort.

The harlot spat her words like poisonous arrows: “Then piss off! You bastard, get out of here before I personally make sure all your bones are broken.”

Unfazed by her threats, Evan pushed past her without saying another word.

Determinedly, he continued his way through the alley, without turning around even once.

The woman’s cheeky voice continued to haunt him like an intrusive echo as she offered herself to another man. “Well, of course, lovely maid.”

An expression of disgust settled on Evan’s face, and he shook himself thoroughly as if to rid himself of the words.

When he reached the end of the alley, he spotted a tavern across a cobbled street lined with puddles. A wooden sign above the dilapidated entrance door read “The Hangman’s Inn,” and the image of an axe was clearly burned into the wood.

He looked left and then right. He knew no one cared about his existence, but he wanted to make sure that the demon hunters weren’t prowling the slums either.

Except for a few beggars and shady characters to whom he himself didn’t feel connected, the street was deserted. Neither guards nor demon hunters were in sight.

Evan pulled his hood deep over his face and quickly crossed the street.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5


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Chapter 2:
Hunters and Hunted

Description: Evan and Leuven have left Haren Castle. On their arduous journey to the capital Rabensberg, Leuven only really realizes what a dangerous world he has ventured into. But even though he had hoped to continue to feel secure in the security that Evan offered him, Evan has other plans. They part ways as the half-demon prepares to meet an old acquaintance.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 1

The wagon rumbled along the narrow path, whirling up dust, while the mare dragged the heavy vehicle behind her, snorting.

Wrapped in a blanket, Leuven tried to escape the bitter cold that prevailed on this frosty morning in the foothills of Rabensberg.

He could barely feel his fingers. They had gone numb from the frosty morning wind and felt like foreign objects.

The fog billowed around the wagon and made it difficult to see.

A shiver ran down the young man’s spine. He feared that a wild animal might appear in front of them at any moment and attack him.

The young man kept casting worried glances at the side of the road. Countless poles stuck out of the damp ground.

Gruesome heads were enthroned on them, impaled and rigid. Their lifeless eyes, from which death stared, seemed to literally follow after Leuven.

The skin was weathered and eaten by maggots, and the teeth grinned in macabre smiles.

The mist circled around them, like a restless soul pining for her body.

The young man flinched as a crow landed on one of the skulls with a caw and dug its beak into its empty eye socket to pick out some scraps of flesh.

The faces were barely recognizable; Leuven could only guess whether they had once been people, animals or even monsters. Gnawed, weathered, a silent witness to suffering and death.

With a queasy feeling, he averted his gaze and turned to Evan, who was sitting on his wagon behind the tarpaulin.

He had made himself comfortable among the boxes and bundles, apparently unimpressed by the horrible scene at the side of the road.

“The area around Harendorf was definitely more appealing. I can’t believe that the capital smells so like death and decay,” the merchant remarked, wrinkling his nose, as a foul, putrid smell filled his nostrils.

“They should serve as a warning,” Evan replied, poking his head out of the tarp.

“Warning? If they plan to scare off honest merchants like me, then they will succeed. I wouldn’t walk these paths alone,” replied Leuven. Goosebumps rose on his back and he shook with disgust.

“Well, these routes are generally avoided by travelers. Rather, they are intended to keep demons and enemies away. Believe me, the main street is extremely safe.”

Leuven sighed and rolled his eyes. “I wanted to take that too, but because you’re so paranoid, I had to take a detour.”

“The main street is patrolled by soldiers. They search every single wagon. Once we get to the intersection you can turn onto the main road, but I have to take a different way into Rabensberg.”

The merchant let out a malicious laugh. “You somehow made it into Haren Castle. But now are you worried?”

“The castle of a lord of lower rank is also something different from the capital of Brunen. Not even a fly makes it through the gates without identification papers. I hope you have yours with you.”

Leuven nodded confidently. “But of course! I have them with me. It would also be crazy if not. But I guess you don’t have any documents?”

Evan crawled out from behind the tarpaulin, climbed onto the carriage seat and sat down next to the merchant. “I still have them, but they’re unlikely to be of any use to me.”

“Oh, the half-demon has papers. I’m a little surprised.”

An evil look met the young man.

“I was once human, I told you so,” Evan snorted. “But you saw the difficulty we had getting into Lord Dancker’s castle. Besides, my fifty-three years probably don’t show.”

Leuven yanked on the reins so hard that the mare neighed loudly and pawed wildly. “Fifty-three?” he asked in surprise.

The wagon rocked heavily and the sound of falling boxes could be heard from inside.

“Be careful!” scolded the half-demon, who had to hold on to the bench of the carriage seat to avoid falling down. “Yes, you heard me right. I’m aging… differently.”

The mare calmed down and took a steady walk.

Leuven laughed. “If I had known that. Here, maybe you should take my blanket. I don’t want the old man to catch a cold.”

“Stop it now or are you trying to provoke me?” Evan said and barked. “Will you watch the road or are you going to kill us?”

“Well, the ravages of time are already gnawing at you.” The merchant burst out laughing.

A loud clap sounded in the dark surroundings.

The pain ripped through Leuven’s entire jaw.

Evan didn’t hit hard, but it was warning enough for the young man.

The half-demon was obviously not in the mood for jokes.

Trembling, Leuven opened his mouth. A quiet apology escaped his lips.

The half-demon sat next to him with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

Finally he sighed. “Forgive me. But I didn’t hit hard either.”

“It didn’t feel like it either.” A tear of pain ran down Leuven’s cheek. “I hardly feel it.”

“You know, I’m not happy about the situation. There was a time when everything was much simpler, but it’s almost just fleeting images that wander through my head.” Evan looked dreamily into the thick fog, then pulled a small piece of parchment from his belt pouch.

“It’s none of your business, but I think I can show you. Here are all the names that I have been able to collect over time.”

“Names?” Leuven glanced at the parchment before returning his gaze to the road. “What kind of names?”

“Names of different people. I’ve already been able to cross out some of them, others are being added. The list seems endless, but it is what keeps me alive. I won’t give up and won’t stop until every name on this list has been crossed out and no new ones are added.”

“So the list is keeping you alive? Are they special people?”

Evan looked away. “At least one of them is responsible for my living as a half-demon.”

“Hmm,” Leuven looked sadly over at his companion. “And what about family?”

“It’s just me and the list.”

“May I ask what happened, what did these people do to you?”

A moment of silence later, when Leuven had almost given up hope of an answer, Evan began to speak in a low voice: “If you remember, I already told you that my heart was ripped out. These people could be responsible. I’ve been looking for almost twenty years.”

“For twenty years and you’re still looking?” the young merchant repeated, although he immediately regretted it.

“Unfortunately, the search turned out to be more difficult than I expected. I was able to cross out names, but only a few were helpful.”

For a moment, Leuven was frozen. He couldn’t imagine the pain Evan had to go through.

“Do you have any more detailed information now?” he blurted out as he gasped.

“More or less.” Evan looked at his list with anger in his eyes.

Leuven remembered the long scar on Evan’s chest. So his story seemed true and he hadn’t meant to make a fool of him.

“Is that why you’re on the way to Rabensberg?” he asked, surprised.

“That’s right.”

Both were silent for a moment.

Suddenly the half-demon screamed. “Stop! – Stop immediately!”

The young merchant looked confused into the deep fog. When he realized what was hiding in front of them, he pulled on the reins with all his might.

Protesting loudly, the mare lifted her muscular legs into the air and whinnied and blew steam from her nostrils.

The wagon suddenly stopped.

“By the gods, we clearly chose the wrong path,” Leuven commented, burying himself in his blanket.

He saw five lifeless bodies lining the path ahead.

Their faces distorted and their limbs stretched from their bodies. In some cases an arm or a leg was even missing.

The fog enveloped the corpses like a sad veil.

Leuven could not even determine the gender of two of them, so disfigured were their bodies by the merciless violence they had suffered.

Their blood, a dark guide.

Evan jumped vigorously from the wagon and inspected the lifeless bodies.

Alarmed, Leuven asked from the carriage seat: “Were they Karraks?”

The terrible encounter with these hideous creatures had given him enough horrible dreams.

“No,” Evan replied, his voice calm but with a hint of concern. “The tracks don’t match Karraks. It must have been something bigger.”

Leuven’s body tensed and goosebumps covered his entire body.

When Evan stood up, looked into the distance through the fog and shortly afterwards disappeared into the milky veil, this finally upset the young merchant.

“Evan? – Evan, what are you doing, where are you?”

It was quiet until, after a while, a black silhouette loomed in the fog and Evan appeared in front of the wagon again.

“They must have been refugees on their way to the capital. There’s a completely destroyed carriage up ahead, but there’s nothing valuable in it. Some half-digested food, some tattered clothing,” Evan explained as he looked down at the bodies and inspected them. “Who else would be crazy enough to take this route? Maybe refugees from the East.”

“Who else would be so crazy as to take this route?  – We, Evan, we!” Leuven protested, sliding excitedly into the middle of the bench.

Evan shrugged and looked at his companion dryly. “Yeah, all right, except for us, of course.” He climbed back onto the carriage seat and pushed Leuven back to his side. “Come on now, we should keep going.”

“Are you crazy?” Leuven rumbled. ” I won’t be driving any further.”

“Leuven, I don’t know what’s in this fog, so please get the wagon moving, otherwise I’ll throw you off and take the reins myself. Is that what you want?” Evan’s words were threatening and his eyes conveyed determination.

“All right, all right. You should work on your aggression, really,” the young man stammered, pulling on the reins. The wagon started moving with a jerk.

A frightening sound pierced the air as the wagon drove over the dead bodies.

Leuven tried to cleverly avoid them, but the fog made his visibility difficult.

“Absolutely disgusting,” he said as he heard the cracking sound of a skull being crushed under the weight of one of the wagon wheels. “Hopefully you will now find peace, wherever your journey takes you.”

“Unfortunately it’s too late for them, but I’d like to get out of this fog, so hurry up.”

Leuven shook his head at Evan’s apparent insensitivity.

It took a while for the fog to clear and the sun to rise on the horizon in shades of red and orange.

A large tree revealed itself, with the corpses of various creatures dangling from its black, dead branches.

“The king’s soldiers can hardly be responsible for this. This looks like the work of the Hunters’ Guild,” Evan said in a low voice. He frowned. It was easy to see that he was worried.

“You mean the demon hunters? – Here in Rabensberg?” asked Leuven, surprised and with a hint of curiosity.

“Since they broke away from the church, they have been operating independently and across borders.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I’ve never seen one of them. Maybe I’ll meet one of them.”

“It’s better to stay out of their way,” Evan said.

“Why? – I’ve heard all sorts of adventurous stories about them, it would certainly be exciting to meet one of them in person.”

The half-demon looked at him intently. “Not everything you hear about them is true.” He took his travel bag out of the carriage. “So, this is where we part ways.”

Leuven slumped his shoulders in disappointment.

“And what are you going to do?” he asked in a sad voice.

Leuven’s firm grip on the reins brought the mare to an abrupt halt. A loud clatter and crash echoed from inside the wagon as the crates were tossed about in the sudden movement.

“I will seek out an old acquaintance, but I must find another way into the city,” Evan nodded farewell and leapt down from the wagon.

He did not flinch. His face exuded icy coldness.

Had he been able, Leuven might have bowed before Evan, but he simply nodded in return. “It was an honor to meet you. Farewell, may we meet again someday.”

Without a backward glance at the departing wagon, Evan strode away.

He felt the merchant’s eyes lingering on him as they slowly distanced themselves from each other.

Simple-minded Leuven, thought Evan, did he truly believe we would travel together forever?

“But I must admit, I never thought he would go to such lengths,” he whispered to himself.

Quickly, he pushed aside his thoughts.

As he descended from a hill into the valley, his eyes were fixed on the tall towers and the wall surrounding Rabensberg, which he could already glimpse in the distance.

The rising smoke from the many chimneys mingled with the mist still hovering over the capital.

Since the end of the great war against the Cardíz Empire, Rabensberg had stood as the new capital of the realm, after the port city of Thaburg had been razed to the ground in the final battle against the imperial invaders.

But even at that time, Evan had not yet lived, so he only heard stories of the heroic soldiers who risked their lives to defend the last bastion.

Even if the capital fell, the remaining forces gathered courage and determination, managing to reclaim much of their homeland and drive out the enemy.

Rabensberg, though far from the coast, had quickly become the center of trade in the kingdom and was also protected from attacks from the sea.

Time and again, Evan had been to Rabensberg, yet time and again he had to find a new way in.

Every time he wanted to enter the city anew, the path he had taken before had either been blocked by the guards or bricked up.

He never knew which way he could take to get in and searched for a new loophole each time.

It was already noon, and the sun was at its highest point when he reached the city wall through a small patch of woods.

The stench of excrement filled his nostrils, bringing tears to his eyes.

In front of him lay the sewer exit, an almost two-meter-high and wide gate of rusty iron. Muck oozed through the thick bars.

The builder had apparently deliberately refrained from diverting the sewage into a river or stream. Instead, the stinking broth poured freely in front of the city walls, forming a malodorous pool of excrement.

Evan knew this way into the city, but last time, no one had bothered to install an iron grate.

Apparently, several shady characters had already made their way into the city through the sewers, resulting in this route being blocked as well.

Evan waded through the muck, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Gaining entry to the city in this manner did not appeal to him, but he had no other choice. He felt revulsion covering his entire body.

Evan shook the iron grate. One of the bars broke loose from the wall.

How long has it been since I was last here? pondered the half-demon as he held the rusty bar in his hand.

Yes, he had more strength in his hands than an ordinary human, but with little effort, he had already dislodged the second iron bar from its anchoring.

Evan didn’t want to know what besides sewage was being channeled through the drain, causing the grate to decay so badly.

His face twisted in disgust as he caught the scent from within.

The half-demon climbed into the sewer and ventured deep inside. The further he walked, the stronger the unpleasant smell became.

In addition to the brown sludge flowing between his boots, other unappetizing things clung to the walls.

He couldn’t see exactly what the sticky green mass next to his head was, but he didn’t really want to find out.

Several rats swam through the muck, squeaking at the half-demon and glaring menacingly with their glowing eyes.

Evan hated rats. He had no problem fighting demons or voracious monsters, but when he spotted a rat, it sent a shiver down his spine.

That was probably due to an incident that had happened years ago.

Back then, he was traveling in a small coastal town. Unfortunately, he arrived at the wrong time because that year the plague broke out there, and swarms of rats overran the town.

In an almost hopeless fight for survival, these malicious rodents buried him under themselves.

Evan could already envision them tearing him apart alive.

He shook himself. No further thought should be wasted on that situation.

Evan tried to ignore the rodents and reach the end of the sewer as quickly as possible.

The deeper he plunged into the stinking tunnel, the tighter he felt. The walls seemed to be closing in. A suffocating feeling enveloped the half-demon.

After a while, he spotted a hole in the wall, through which sunbeams were streaming.

The hole was only a hand’s breadth wide, far too small to pass through.

Evan briefly considered whether he could bring down the dilapidated wall, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

He wanted to attract as little attention as possible; this would be the worst choice he could make.

However, an exit was soon revealed to him.

A grated door, which seemed to lead up to the street, stood slightly ajar. As if someone had cleared a way out for him.

He didn’t have to think long.

To escape the stench and the rats, he didn’t hesitate and went through the door.

Evan found himself in the slums of Rabensberg.

The street was a single muddy path, riddled with deep ruts and puddles reflecting the murky water.

Here and there, dirty children in tattered clothes squeezed through the narrow alleys, searching for something edible.

The residents of the district, dressed in torn and weathered garments, wandered with weary steps through the marshy paths.

Their faces reflected their exhaustion.

Some coughed as they clung to the walls of the dilapidated houses, while others gazed into the distance with grim looks, as if searching for hope in the bleak surroundings.

The old half-timbered houses seemed like silent witnesses of days gone by when the district may have still carried a hint of dignity.

But now, they seemed to groan and creak under the weight of the years.

The windows, mere remnants of their former glory, were haphazardly covered with dirty rags to keep out the morning autumn wind.

In this grim backdrop, the sounds of city life mingled with the dismal murmurs of the inhabitants, trying to navigate their way through this harsh reality.

It was hardly imaginable that such a district existed in the capital of the glorious Kingdom of Brunen. Yet, that was the reality.

It was best for no one to wander here.

Indeed, this was the only district Evan had seen of the city so far.

Here, no one asked who he was or where he came from.

As long as he didn’t carry a jingling purse or obviously valuable items, no one spared him even a glance.

The residents of this district had their own problems.

Occasionally, Evan could see a lone city guard wandering through the dirty streets.

The guards’ armor stood out amidst the dreary scene. They were supposed to be guardians of law and order.

But the sad truth was that the guards seemed more like shadowy observers.

Their eyes slid indifferently over the miserable streets and the drawn faces of the poor. Yet, there was no trace of compassion.

They purposefully avoided the sick, as if mere contact with their suffering was contagious.

Evan could see them deliberately avert their gaze, wrinkle their noses, and pretend that the misery around them didn’t exist.

In their greed for coins, the city guards could be bribed by the shady characters of the district.

They looked away as thieves stole their loot right under the otherwise watchful eyes of the guards and ignored the desperate pleas of those who needed their help.

Bribes changed hands, and in return, the soldiers turned a blind eye when something forbidden happened.

They were not the heroes, clad in shining armor, protecting the slums from injustice and danger; instead, they served as silent witnesses to oppression and misery.

When an innocent passerby crossed the path of a city guard, they often encountered a ruthless encounter.

The guards shoved the unfortunate souls aside as if they were nothing more than annoying obstacles on their way to more important matters.

Evan hurried through a narrow alley, at the end of which some people sat gathered on the ground. They were discussing. What about, the half-demon couldn’t understand.

They were covered in dirt from head to toe, and their clothes were moth-eaten and disintegrating into nothingness.

There was no other place in Brunen that screamed poverty and, above all, stank, like the slums of Rabensberg, which was actually called Lunde and was once established as a trading post.

But after it was relocated, the poorer folk settled there, and it didn’t take long for the shady characters of the land to settle in as well.

Anyone planning something criminal or fleeing from justice found refuge here, as long as they had forged identification papers, enough coins in their pockets, or, like Evan, found another way in.

He was firmly convinced that the authorities knew about these injustices, but their indifference spoke volumes. Perhaps they even harbored a silent satisfaction in isolating the poorest of society behind the walls and thus segregating them from the other districts.

As Evan was about to turn into another alley, an unfamiliar lady stood in his way.

She smelled of sweat and soot. Her hair was greasy, and a grayish-blonde strand clung to her sweaty forehead.

She was scantily clad, wearing a tattered skirt and tightly laced corset. Her décolletage offered deep insights.

“Well, handsome, looking for an adventure?” she purred, revealing her blackened teeth as if it were her most seductive smile.

Evan raised an eyebrow and replied coldly, “Thank you, but not today.”

His rejection couldn’t disguise the fact that his gaze recoiled with disgusted discomfort.

The harlot spat her words like poisonous arrows: “Then piss off! You bastard, get out of here before I personally make sure all your bones are broken.”

Unfazed by her threats, Evan pushed past her without saying another word.

Determinedly, he continued his way through the alley, without turning around even once.

The woman’s cheeky voice continued to haunt him like an intrusive echo as she offered herself to another man. “Well, of course, lovely maid.”

An expression of disgust settled on Evan’s face, and he shook himself thoroughly as if to rid himself of the words.

When he reached the end of the alley, he spotted a tavern across a cobbled street lined with puddles. A wooden sign above the dilapidated entrance door read “The Hangman’s Inn,” and the image of an axe was clearly burned into the wood.

He looked left and then right. He knew no one cared about his existence, but he wanted to make sure that the demon hunters weren’t prowling the slums either.

Except for a few beggars and shady characters to whom he himself didn’t feel connected, the street was deserted. Neither guards nor demon hunters were in sight.

Evan pulled his hood deep over his face and quickly crossed the street.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5



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