Char had a bad dream.
At first he is a helpless wild dog, hunted by masked hunters, then he walks through the mountains, boulders tumble off cliffs on either side, and soon finds himself in the form of a goat, walking a deer, being kept in captivity and watching his companions slaughtered. At the end of the dream he suddenly realized that he had become powerful, and just as he was about to show his teeth and take revenge on everything, he woke up.
He saw the sky just breaking, and the light of the light shining into the forest, cut into pieces by tree trunks and leaves. The difference between light and shadow is striking. Where the light hits, it's bright and blinding. Elsewhere, it's scary and overcast.
The whole alder tree had been burned through, and the smoke was flying high and could be seen at great distances, but the other hunters still did not come. Perhaps they have reached Camp Rock, thought Shire, where they have gathered to regroup and make plans to round up the Blade Demon once again.
Camp Rock is an ancient military site in the heart of the Twilight Forest. The Loman built a defensive position near a large rock against attacks from the ancient Empire, aided by dragons. Legend has it that all the trees around the camping rock were burned by the dragon's breath, and no vegetation has come back to life.
The demon hunters had agreed to split up for four days to reduce the Blade Demon's range, then remeet at the camp rock to prepare for the second part of the battle.
But was our plan a success? Shire could not help wondering. We've lost Denver, we've lost Mr. Julius, and among the rest are restless creatures like Warren, and new hunters like myself.
"We're going to camp Rock." Etienne opened his eyes. His body had been stony all night.
Char packed up the camp, and Warren gulped corned beef, then drank the whole pot.
They set off together and continued their journey through the forest. The whole woodland, on the northeastern border of the Kingdom of Loman, is grim, silent, and uninhabited. Leaving the forest to the east, you reach the rumoured dark ruins of the ancient Empire, a place even more terrifying than Loman, a forbidden place that even demon hunters dare not go into, or even talk about, for fear of being haunted by its terrible curse.
If the Blade demon manages to escape into a forbidden place, it will be like a fish in the sea, and nothing will hold it back.
The leaves and bushes swaying in the wind looked rather suspicious, and there were vague animal calls in the distance that sounded like the low mocking of demons.
The thought that everything around could be the embodiment of the blade demon made Shire shudder.
In fact, demons are born out of human fear, but fear is the instinct of life and cannot be hidden or avoided. Shire can only try to distinguish between the real and the unreal, alert everything around.
Etienne looked as if nothing had happened, and Valen was even less worried, looking more frightening than the devil himself.
Warren sometimes left the team, to find a place to fill the water, the shire worried about his safety, soon he will return, the attitude is still arrogant, let the Shire regret why they have to worry about such people.
The trees are thinning out.
They saw a barren grassy slope on which sat a demon hunter, who had escaped from the shadows of the forest and was hiding in the sunlight.
'Dalton! "Cried Warren." Are you in a daze?"
The demon hunter, sitting with his knees folded, turned his head wearily to look at the approaching men.
Dalton was about thirty years old, with dark green eyes that looked rather worried, short chestnut hair, thin lips, and a beard that grew thickly from chin to lip.
This childish look of fear on a grown man's face felt very strange to Char.
"You're a little lost." Etienne said, "What's the matter, Dalton?"
Shire knows Dalton, a slow-witted demon hunter who originally chases vicious little devils through the nearby countryside, relieving the villagers of their troubles in exchange for a pittance. Although he has been a demon hunter for some time, he has no experience dealing with real demons.
His greatest fear was that he would become a hunter like Dalton, unable to do his job of hunting demons.
"It was terrible." Dalton murmured. "It's terrible... The knife... Visions of knives..."
"Did you see the Blade Demon? Where is it?" Etienne asked.
"Everywhere. It's hiding in the forest. They're watching me." Dalton's lips trembled. "They're waiting for me, waiting for me to show up, and then they're going to rush in and kill me... I want to stay here, I want to stay here..."
Shire looked at the surrounding environment, this grassy slope is not sheltered, the field of vision is open, the sun is warm, a kind of unrealistic beauty. If you're just afraid of the dark, it's a good place to be, but what's the point?
"Come on, we're going to the Campstone ruins." Etienne urged. "Make haste before you lose face in front of the apprentice."
Dalton looked at Shire, and the words touched what little pride he had left.
"It's dangerous." Dalton got up, wearing only a leather robe and no protective gear. "It's too dangerous... Let's, let's not go to camp Rock."
"Where else? Go home?" Etienne exclaimed.
"Go home... Go home Yes! We should go back." Dalton stammered, "We can't fight the Blade Demon, it's a real demon... This is its noumenon coming, the noumenon of a true demon... How can we possibly cope with it!"
"Face it, all eight demon hunters in Upper Loman have arrived to fight the Blade Demon, and not one of them has deserted. Julius and Denver even gave their lives to do their duty. Do your duty, Dalton." Etienne's pitch rose and his voice became more commanding.
"I..." Dalton nodded stiffly. "... Then I'll go with you. Come on."
They trekked a little further through the forest.
On the way, Dalton became paranoid and frightened of everything that happened around him.
Char wondered if he was mad. People who have been in contact with demons for a long time are mostly mad or insane, which is an occupational disease of this kind of work and almost impossible to eradicate.
What is the root of fear? Is it because we can't beat something? Or is it because we don't understand it?
If there really is something to be feared, something of a particular nature that we can neither defeat nor understand, should humanity bow its knees and declare defeat? Shire pondered.
"Well... Ah..." Dalton couldn't stop sighing.
"Fool." Warren sneered.
"You enchanted bastard, shut up!" Dalton suddenly turned his head furiously at Warren.
"..." Warren narrowed his eyes and the whole team stopped.
"Huh? Did I hit a nerve? I saw from the first day I joined the team that you were not like the other demon hunters. You were cruel and rude and wanted to take everything. Your nature was abnormal." "You have been possessed of the mind by the devil," Dalton accused intermittently.
"Crazy man." Warren disdained to quarrel over such a subject.
"I'm going to tell the others. When we get to Camp Rock, I'm going to tell everyone about this discovery." 'said Dalton obstinately, while Valen's face wavered.
Are we gonna fall apart without the blade demon? Shire thought to himself. Anyway, what was it that made Dalton so nervous? Did he witness the blade demon?
For Char, just looking at the fallen machete created by the Blade Demon, he will feel a strong mental disturbance, and must use the flame of Yafen to stay awake, while for other hunters who have not mastered the similar talisman spell, once they see the Blade demon's body...
But then I thought, if you meet the blade demon head-on, with Dalton's strength, how can you get away with it? Even a hunter as skilled as Julius, and his assistant, Denver, could easily be killed by the blade demon and hung upside down from a tree.
Or has Dalton been murdered by the Blade Demon, and Dalton is a walking vision?
With Dalton around all the time babbling, Char couldn't help but think. He found Dalton more unpleasant than Wallen, who, though greedy and threatening several times, was at least strong-willed.
After quarrelling, they finally reached the campstone ruins in the early afternoon.
The rumor is false, the camping stone has long grown around the lush forest, and has not been completely cut off by the dragon fire. The so-called camp stone is indeed huge, standing on the ground, as high as a giant egg, the outline of the round, I do not know how many people hug, as wide as an entire house, slanting a terrible shadow, the back of the sun covered with moss.
There was a line carved into the stone that could be read from a distance, as if it had been dug out by a giant claw, flat and straight, with sharp strokes, not human writing.
Around the campstones, two rings of high stone walls were erected to withstand charges, and the simple towers of boulders were built, and the Gulomans used these simple fortifications to resist attacks, each stone being considerably worn, as if it had been melted by some heat, and then cooled naturally over time, giving the ruins an extremely ruined and damaged appearance.
From one of the stone towers, a female demon hunter was looking around, seeing the approaching party in the distance and waving.
"Etienne! The Shire!" 'she cried.' Warren! Dalton! You've arrived at last."
Good. The others survived to make it to the campstone ruins. Char knew the other person, a friendly huntress named Tiffany, skilled in her thirties, who maintained a kind of intimate relationship with Master Frederic.
"Tiffany! Thank God Loman, we are here." Etienne nodded. "But as you can probably guess, it's not good."
"Did you see anyone else?" Tiffany asked. "Julius? Denver?"
"That's the bad part -- they're dead." Etienne's voice cracked. "It would be better if we killed the blade demons to appease their souls."
"Certainly. Then the 'living' are all here. Come in." Tiffany stepped down from the tower. "Master Frederic is waiting for us by the camping rock."
Frederic is the most powerful demon hunter in the entire region, the keeper of the Sanctuary Keys, and a nobleman. Although the seniority is shallow than Etienne, but the strength and talent are extremely strong, can be said to be the backbone and leader of this team of hunters.
Shire had great respect for him, and to be a master hunter like Frederic was his greatest ambition.
Always trained, always ready, always able to compete with any fearsome demon and overcome any obstacle in the world, Shire aspires to be like Master Frederic. At the thought of meeting the master immediately, Shire was looking forward to it.
Tiffany leads the way.
"Have you met the Blade demon? I didn't." Tiffany sighed. "If I meet it, I can cripple it at least fifty percent so it doesn't kill Brother Julius and poor Denver."
"The Blade Demon is a nightmare." 'said Dalton gloomily.
"To scare cowards." Warren laughed at Dalton's cowardice.
Dalton gave Warren a hateful look.
Tiffany turned her head at this brief altercation, just in time to see the spot where Etienne's waist had been cut, and where the linen had covered the wound, bleeding and staining darkly.
"You're hurt." "Tiffany said.
"We have reason to respect the Blade Demon, a formidable opponent." Etienne said.
"Yes..." Tiffany nodded without further questioning.
Only the Char, who fell last, saw that the old hunter had wrapped his cloak around him to hide his wound. This made Shire feel a pang of sadness, although he is only seventeen years old, but also can vaguely understand the concept of "powerless".