Chapter 111: Demon Floetta (3)
After concluding his discussion with the Depicio leader, the Mountain Elder, Hake was detained by the organization’s executives.
Among the three “Moons,” considered the highest-ranking executives of Depicio, one had died, another was slated to be used as a vessel, and the last was occupied with a critical procedure somewhere else. Consequently, Hake was the only senior figure available for the executives to consult on pressing matters.
“For your achievement in safely bringing the White Moon from the clutches of vile hunters… Hake, we will elevate you to the rank of ‘Moon.’”
This was due to the Mountain Elder’s declaration that, once this matter was resolved, Hake would be promoted to “Moon.”
As a result, Hake was held up by the executives for quite some time before he finally managed to slip away.
“Phew…”
Only upon reaching a secluded spot with no one around did he let out the sigh he’d been holding back.
Listening to their verbose plans for a horrific sacrificial ritual had left him feeling as though his ears were rotting.
“Ugh!”
It was as if he’d been doused in the filth of a swamp filled with unwashed rags from a thousand years ago. The disgust was so intense it churned his stomach.
‘All for their so-called greater cause…!!’
An ancient ideology, passed down from their parents’ parents’ parents—perhaps even further back.
Was it just to cast aside the lives of those living today like worthless chaff in order to fulfill that outdated aspiration?
‘…Well, it’s not like I’m in a position to talk.’
Had he not met Melasa and the other companions at the Hunter Exam, Hake might never have realized the madness and abnormality of the Depicio organization.
“Have I gone too deep… Hm?”
While pursuing his true mission—to locate the Gnaude tribe—and arriving deep within the hideout, Hake’s ears perked up.
“Sniff… sob…”
He heard a sound like stifled sobbing. With stealthy steps, Hake moved toward the source.
It came from a room with an entrance blocked by dense thorny brambles. Hake carefully lifted the thorns just enough to slip inside.
“Who… who’s there?!”
Hake couldn’t help but flash a wry, triumphant smile.
There, gathered as offerings for the sacrifice, were members of the Gnaude tribe.
‘Bingo.’
No, it was a group of small children with green hair, huddled together and trembling.
“Wah… ahh…”
“P-please, spare us! Please!”
At a glance, it was clear these children were from the Gnaude tribe.
They looked at Hake with fearful eyes, shaking uncontrollably. In their gazes, Hake read the terror of impending death.
“Uh, hi?”
Hake mustered every ounce of his abysmal social skills to offer a greeting.
—Hi? What’s your name?
He recalled Melasa, who had extended a hand to him at their first meeting, with a smile warmer than spring sunlight.
“I’m Hake. I’m here to help you.”
Hake spoke stiffly, like a jointed puppet.
His awkwardness was so blatant that it paradoxically conveyed his sincerity—that he had no intention of harming them.
The children exchanged glances. One of them summoned the courage to speak.
“Um… are you really going to help us?”
“Huh? Yeah, of course!”
Hake nodded vigorously.
“Big brother? Oppa… whatever! I’m here to save you guys.”
While doing so, he discreetly moved his hands in a blind spot out of the children’s view, signaling Zeraphe with their location.
Thanks to the Blood Compass, he’d pinpointed the coordinates.
‘He’ll come soon.’
Having sent the coordinates, a mage of Zeraphe’s caliber would surely find them.
Hake plastered a clumsy smile on his face and spoke to the children.
“So, kids. Why are you all alone here? Where are the adults?”
The Gnaude tribe was a minority group, so their numbers weren’t vast.
Still, they weren’t so small or aged that only children would be present.
“Waaa…”
“Mommy! Daddy!”
“Waaah!”
At his question, the children’s already red, swollen eyes contorted, and they burst into tears without exception.
Their sobs were still hushed, as if afraid of being heard. Flustered, Hake asked,
“Why, why are you crying? What happened?”
One child, sniffling, wiped tears away with a tiny, determined hand and spoke.
“The bad people took all the adults of our tribe!”
CRASH!
“—Found you!”
At that moment, as the child cried out in anguish, a hole burst open in the floor, and Zeraphe Gnaude sprang out.
Hake, momentarily dumbfounded, soon chuckled and said,
“…What the heck. That was fast? I didn’t know you were a spatial mage.”
He’d arrived almost the instant the message was sent. Wasn’t this the realm of teleportation?
The timing was almost too perfect.
Just as he heard that the Gnaude tribe’s adults had been taken, an adult of the Gnaude tribe arrived.
“Nonsense. More importantly, there’s an urgent matter…!!”
Zeraphe Gnaude was about to relay the information he’d received when he froze, spotting the Gnaude tribe children in his field of vision.
“…What’s this? These little chicks?”
The children, startled by Zeraphe’s sudden appearance, had wide eyes, their gazes drifting to the top of his head.
Zeraphe’s hair, revived after being devoured by the Manticore, was still a dark green—the natural color of the Gnaude tribe.
“Wooow!”
Perhaps they felt a pull of kinship, if not from the hair color alone.
For some reason, the children let out exclamations and clung to Zeraphe.
Though they’d been wary of Hake, with Zeraphe, it was different.
They quickly let down their emotional barriers.
“Who’s this oppa?”
“Is Brother one of us too?”
Their eyes sparkled as they grabbed at Zeraphe’s sleeves or pant legs.
“…Get off.”
Zeraphe snapped coldly, but a person’s demeanor is often swayed by appearances.
This held true even for young children, who, far from being scared, giggled and clung to him more.
Despite his age, Zeraphe currently looked like a boy in his mid-teens.
“Sorry, kids. Can you continue what you were saying earlier?”
Seeing the children visibly more at ease, Hake cautiously asked again.
“Mommy, Daddy… our family and the tribe’s adults were all taken away.”
“Wuuu, my unnie too!”
“Brother, will they be okay…?”
The response was that all Gnaude tribe members above a certain age had been taken somewhere.
Hake and Zeraphe’s expressions hardened reflexively, wondering if Depicio’s assassins had already begun the sacrificial ritual.
“Do you remember who took them? People in black clothes?”
“No! It was one person!”
“…One person?”
Who could it be?
“Yeah! A really pretty unnie!”
---
In the deepest underground of the Forgotten Stone Tower.
There stood a massive jar, large enough to fill an entire wall.
Whoooosh—
As if to prove it wasn’t meant for ordinary food storage, a chilling wind swirled around it…
Blending with the howling whirlwind outside the stone tower, it sounded as though specters were wailing.
“I distinctly ordered you to bring the White Moon… Why hasn’t she arrived?”
The Mountain Elder, a dark figure standing still before the jar, asked.
“Where is the Black Moon? Is he still inspecting the White Moon’s condition?”
“W-Well, sir…”
A subordinate standing behind the Mountain Elder answered.
“The Black Moon said he’s making final adjustments for a more perfect revival of the King. He ordered no one to enter the lab before he’s done. He also mentioned he’d already received your permission for this matter, Leader…”
“Ah. I see.”
The Mountain Elder let out a low sound, as if just recalling.
“Change of plans. Bring him immediately. We will proceed with the ritual.”
Before the subordinate could bow and comply, someone suddenly interrupted.
“Wait, wait~!”
“Who’s there!”
In a place where only the Mountain Elder and his two subordinates had been, a new presence appeared in the blink of an eye.
“…Floetta?”
“Yup—Floetta, making her grand entrance!”
Floetta, twirling to flaunt the crimson of her extravagant dress, grinned.
She casually thrust forward a pure white woman she’d been holding under her arm.
“Ta-da! The White Moon you wanted! I brought her!”
The Mountain Elder, either accustomed to Floetta’s antics or simply unmoved, received the White Moon with an expressionless face.
“How did you end up bringing the White Moon?”
“Fufu, curious?”
Floetta, with a mischievous smile, revealed what she’d been hiding behind her back.
Like a child proudly showing off an achievement. Displaying it boldly.
“I killed him! Sorry~!”
Beaming, Floetta patted the Black Moon’s severed head.
“You wretch! How dare you harm Lord Black Moon…!!”
“We’ll kill you—!”
“Enough.”
“But, Leader…!”
The Mountain Elder restrained the subordinates, who looked ready to charge at Floetta in their outrage.
“Did I not tell you to stop? Do you intend to make me repeat myself?”
The Mountain Elder’s gaze, dark as an abyss, turned to his subordinates. They trembled violently and bowed their heads.
“N-No, sir!”
“We obey your command.”
Only then did the Mountain Elder glance at the now-quiet subordinates and ask,
“Why did you kill the Black Moon?”
His voice remained impassive, despite the loss of a valued subordinate.
“…Tch, how boring. That’s all the reaction I get?”
“Answer.”
Floetta, who’d been anticipating the Mountain Elder’s response, grew bored instead.
“…Lame.”
Even for a puppet-like human, she’d hoped the death of his last remaining close aide would elicit some small, meaningful reaction…
But she felt not even a speck of amusement.
“Must I say it three times, Floetta?”
“Ugh, fine~ I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you!”
Pouting with puffed cheeks, Floetta coldly looked down at the Black Moon’s head in her arms.
“The reason? Hmm… he just got on my nerves?”
“He got on your nerves?”
“Now we really have to kill the White Moon~! I really liked that girl’s soul. I did it out of reluctance!”
Floetta held up the Black Moon’s head as if displaying it.
“He’s the one who suggested using the White Moon as a vessel, right? Wanting to use his own bloodline as the foundation for a grand revival.”
“…Indeed. He was the one with the purest blood of the Shadow Clan.”
“Yup. Too perverse and disgusting, don’t you think? But I kept my promise not to touch the White Moon, so please understand!”
“Hah…”
The Mountain Elder sighed. Yet, he neither reprimanded nor scolded Floetta.
To begin with, Floetta wasn’t his subordinate but merely a collaborator, so he had no authority to do so.
Moreover, she was essential for the revival of the Beastkin King.
The ritual to revive him involved capturing the Beastkin King’s wandering soul and placing it into the fetus within the White Moon’s womb, granting him new life.
And the sacrificial ritual to grind the lives of the Gnaude tribe into fuel, transforming him into a being stronger than the previous Beastkin King.
Both rituals required the aid of those skilled in handling souls.
Fairies, witches, and…
‘The Outsider.’
With the Witches’ Association suddenly cutting contact, the only one left to fill their role was the woman before him.
‘If I upset her and she flees, it’ll be troublesome.’
He was well aware of how impulsive Floetta could be.
Thus, at least until the rituals were complete, he had to indulge her infuriating whims.
‘After that…’
The Mountain Elder’s dark eyes glinted with a murderous intent for a fleeting moment.
He would make her pay the due price for her reckless behavior.