1 1. Retired demon hunter Hewitt

Erethia, Oberlia Continent.

New Era 1832.

Demons almost disappeared, and the era of demon hunters has come to an end.

54 years later, in a birch forest outside Dawnshire Town in the Kingdom of Ingris on the Oberlia Continent.

Hewitt bends over, slows his breathing, and patiently waits for the right moment.

"Rustle rustle."

An unusual noise comes from the bushes.

The demon hunter's pupils narrow like a feline's, and his muscles tense unconsciously.

Whoosh!

The arrow flies like lightning, penetrating the dense bushes and taking the prey's life before it can react.

The brown-haired man walks towards the fallen prey with a smile.

A young red deer, with an arrow precisely lodged in its eye, did not even have time to realize its own death.

Hewitt takes out a small knife from his bosom, and, starting from the lower end of the abdomen, skillfully and swiftly separates the red deer's hide from its body.

The hunter, with one hand, hoists the red deer and hide over his shoulder, and heads towards the town.

"Uncle Hewitt!" A blonde boy around sixteen years old waves both hands at the town gate, shouting loudly at the hunter.

Hewitt nods with a smile:

"Jimmy, didn't I tell you to wait for me in town?"

There are no signs of aging on Hewitt's skin.

However, his full beard, unkempt hair, and deep eyes make him look like a handsome uncle who takes good care of himself.

Hewitt hands the deer meat to Jimmy and places it in the small cart beside the boy.

Hewitt pats the boy's shoulder:

"Give this to your father, and remind him to settle last time's payment as well. I don't accept credit."

"Uncle Hewitt, we're so close; Father won't owe you any money." Jimmy pats the deer meat and gently pinches it, his eyes gleaming, "A feast is never complete without deer meat and red wine."

Jimmy looks at the deer hide and curiously asks:

"Do you need help taking the deer hide away?"

Hewitt thinks for a moment before shaking his head:

"Never mind, I'll handle it myself. Besides, your errand fee isn't cheap."

Jimmy laughs and grips the handle of the cart:

"Alright then, Uncle Hewitt, I'll be on my way."

Waving again, Jimmy pushes his cart, humming a countryside tune as he slowly makes his way home.

Hewitt shakes his head with a smile and walks towards a duplex wooden house on the edge of the town.

The wooden house is surrounded by white wax trees and low bushes. It is evident that Hewitt's house maintains a certain distance from other houses in the town.

When he first arrived, there were even rumors in the town that he was a terrifying wizard, and his house was filled with human skulls, floating candles, and crystalline orbs, among other things because it looked quite gloomy.

At this thought, Hewitt can't help but find it amusing.

He opens the door, walks into the basement, and spreads the deer hide on the table.

Hewitt takes out a bottle covered with strange symbols, dips a brush lightly in the buffalo blood inside, and applies it liberally to the deer hide.

"The ancient predecessors of Oberlia once used the hides and blood of wild beasts to attract the elves of this world, allowing their power to linger on the hide. This is the primitive Witchcraft Scroll."

Hewitt grabs a handful of powder, sprinkles it on the semi-formed scroll, then immerses the scroll in a colorless blue liquid for a few seconds.

The deer hide shrinks continuously, and soon, a two-palm-sized witchcraft scroll is formed.

Hewitt softly utters three syllables:

"Ah! Ta! Ma!"

As Hewitt clenched his hands, the Witchcraft Scroll ignited spontaneously, and a verdant mist formed within the flames. Countless vicious demons struggled and roared in the mist, releasing the most intense and miserable wail towards the human world.

Anyone who heard these cries would wonder what kind of unspeakable torture they must have endured, to make such horrifying screams.

The green mist swirled gently mid-air before converging into columns that seeped into the demon hunter's skin.

In the darkness, Hewitt's eyes glow with a sinister green light. Under the twisted green rays, the demon hunter's figure seems to turn into a terrifying non-human form within the shadows – a perfect fusion of extreme curse and blasphemy.

As the green light fades, the previously ominous figure appears to have been nothing more than a hallucination brought on by stimulation of the human brain.

"Still not enough, even maintaining normal activities seems too difficult."

The old illness was too severe. Even Hewitt should be grateful that he survived after going against the tyrant wielding thunder and lightning.

After all, the enemy wasn't that fortunate.

Thump, thump, thump.

Subtle sounds that normal humans could not perceive reached the demon hunter's ears.

It was the front door.

Hewitt glanced over himself, and once he made sure his clothes were still neat and tidy, he walked back to the first floor and slowly opened the door.

Outside, three men were standing. The leader was a man in his forties, dressed properly – it was none other than the town mayor.

The man on the left behind him was a tall, thin man in a suit, while the muscular man on the right wore a black coat. Both of them exuded an air of arrogance and disdain that was typical of the elite class.

The mayor spoke first:

"Mr. Hewitt, these two gentlemen are detectives from Aaron City. They are in search of a dangerous fugitive who is guilty of heinous crimes. I heard that you are very familiar with this area. If you wouldn't mind, could you help these two gentlemen with their pursuit?"

Hewitt shook his head, declining the offer:

"I would like to help but I'm afraid I don't have the time."

The mayor, with an earnest and resolute tone, tried to persuade him:

"This won't take up much of your time. The fugitive has killed many civilians. I know this is an unreasonable request, but as the mayor, I cannot stand idly by while the children of our town are in danger."

The tall, thin man chimed in:

"We will compensate you for your loss. Ten pounds per day, and a hundred pounds up front."

Although the thin man's tone was thick with arrogance, his words were surprisingly polite.

Hewitt's eyebrows raised. A hundred pounds was no small sum.

However, Hewitt still declined for various reasons:

"I'm sorry, but I really can't spare the time."

Even the mayor beside him was surprised. A hundred pounds was a considerable amount, especially to a hunter like Hewitt. The fact that he wasn't tempted showed that the mayor had much more to learn about him, who had lived in Dawnshire Town for over a decade.

The two men behind exchanged glances, the thin man nodding:

"Very well, we won't bother you anymore."

Then, he turned to the mayor, saying:

"You should know other people who can help, right?"

Snapping out of it, the mayor quickly agreed:

"Of course, of course! I'll take you to them right away." The mayor turned to Hewitt again, "Goodbye, Mr. Hewitt."

"Goodbye." Hewitt nodded.

Hewitt watched as the three figures gradually disappeared from sight. Just as he was about to close the door, an unexpected sound came from a nearby part of his house.

The hunter sniffed:

"Prey?"