The Town Chief sat at his desk, a flickering candle casting dancing shadows across the weathered parchment before him. His quill scratched across the paper, the urgency of his words reflected in the ink-stained lines. He meticulously penned a letter, each stroke laden with the weight of the unsettling events plaguing their small town, the inexplicable rise in monster evolutions that had brought fear and uncertainty to their peaceful community.
With a furrowed brow and a sense of grave concern, the Town Chief composed a plea for assistance, entreating the church for aid in investigating the mysterious occurrences. He detailed the unsettling reports, the inexplicable transformations of creatures into more formidable and menacing beasts, a phenomenon beyond their understanding or ability to contain.
A week passed in anxious anticipation, the town gripped by a mixture of hope and trepidation as they awaited the church's response. And then, on a somber morning cloaked in mist, a carriage bearing the insignia of the church rumbled into the town square.
As the carriage rolled to a halt, the murmurs of the townsfolk swirled in anticipation. The door creaked open, and from within emerged a figure, a disciple sent by the church to aid in their plight. But this wasn't just any disciple; this was a Grade Three human, a rarity that hadn't been seen in these parts, if ever.
The disciple, adorned in the robes of the church, exuded an air of arrogant confidence that bordered on haughtiness. He stood tall and imposing, his demeanor radiating superiority as he glanced out through the window of the carriage at the gathering crowd.
His features were sharp, a chiseled jawline framed by a mane of immaculately styled hair. His eyes, cold and piercing, surveyed the townsfolk with a detached disdain. He bore the marks of his status with an air of entitlement, a subtle arrogance that seemed to permeate every gesture, from the way he adjusted his pristine attire to the imperious tilt of his head.
With an almost imperceptible sneer, he surveyed the humble surroundings, his gaze sweeping over the quaint buildings and the curious faces pressed against the edges of the town square. To him, this remote town and its inhabitants seemed nothing more than inconsequential, beneath his lofty station within the church's hierarchy.
Despite the anxious anticipation of the townsfolk, the disciple's arrival brought with it a sense of unease, an unease born not only of the gravity of the situation they faced but also of the dismissive aura exuded by this Grade Three human who now graced their small town with his presence.
The Grade Three disciple, with his air of arrogance and detachment, bore the name of Aric Von Caelum.
As the carriage door creaked open, Aric Von Caelum emerged with an air of aloof superiority, his gaze sweeping over the assembled townsfolk. The morning sunlight caught the sheen of his immaculate robes, a stark contrast to the rustic surroundings. His cold, calculating eyes assessed the crowd with a sense of detached scrutiny, the disdain in his demeanor almost palpable.
Amidst the anticipation and hushed whispers, the Town Chief, a figure of quiet authority, stepped forward respectfully. His weathered face bore the weight of concern etched in its lines, yet his demeanor remained composed as he approached Aric.
"Welcome, honored disciple," the Town Chief greeted with a bow, a gesture of reverence mingled with apprehension. "I am Mayor Tobias, and on behalf of our town, I extend our deepest gratitude for your presence."
Aric's response was a mere nod, a gesture that seemed to carry an air of indifference rather than acknowledgment of the Mayor's courtesy. His imperious gaze shifted back to the crowd as if dismissing the Town Chief's presence.
With measured steps, Mayor Tobias guided Aric through the narrow cobblestone streets towards the best lodging the town could offer, the Mayor's own residence. The quaint, yet spacious dwelling stood as a testament to the town's prosperity, now offered to accommodate the esteemed guest.
As they arrived, Mayor Tobias turned to Aric with a respectful yet uneasy tone.
"This shall be your temporary abode during your stay, esteemed disciple," the Mayor gestured toward the grandeur of his home, now surrendered for the church's investigation. "My family and I shall seek refuge elsewhere to facilitate your work."
Aric's response was a curt nod, devoid of gratitude or acknowledgment for the sacrifices made by the Mayor and his family. With an air of entitlement, he entered the dwelling, his demeanor unchanged, a stark contrast to the humility and respect extended to him by the Mayor and his family.
In the opulent dining hall of Mayor Tobias's residence, Aric Von Caelum sat at the head of the table, an air of entitled ease enveloping him as he indulged in a lavish meal of steak, bread, and wine. The gleaming silverware clinked against fine china, a stark contrast to the humble origins of the small town. Mayor Tobias stood meekly at a corner, his hands folded in front of him, an uneasy tension permeating the air.
For what felt like an eternity, Mayor Tobias waited in silence, feeling the weight of Aric's scrutiny upon him. The Grade Three disciple seemed more absorbed in savoring his meal than in addressing the mayor's presence. Tobias dared not interrupt, standing there with a mixture of deference and apprehension.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aric pushed his plate aside, the clatter resonating in the tense atmosphere. He turned his piercing gaze towards Mayor Tobias, and in a tone that brooked no opposition, commanded,
"Mayor Tobias, recount every detail you possess regarding the incidents that have transpired in this town."
With a tremor in his voice, Mayor Tobias began to recount the chilling events, the harrowing encounters that had befallen the town. His words painted a grim picture, detailing the gruesome deaths of two separate teams of hunters and handymen in encounters with monstrous beings, culminating in the survival of only one individual from each group.
As Tobias spoke, Aric's demeanor remained impassive, until the mention of a singular survivor from both incidents caught his attention. The Grade Three disciple's intense gaze bore into Mayor Tobias as he clarified that the lone survivor was the same individual from both tragic events.
Aric, in the midst of raising another morsel to his lips, abruptly stopped mid-motion. His eyes narrowed with a sudden intensity, a dangerous edge creeping into his demeanor. Tobias could sense the shift in the atmosphere, a foreboding tension building around the table.
"You're saying... the survivor from both incidents... is one and the same?" Aric's voice, low and chilling, sliced through the air like a blade.
Mayor Tobias, trembling in fear, nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact with the incensed Grade Three disciple.
Aric's features tightened, his gaze piercing through Tobias with an unsettling intensity. He leaned forward, his voice now a cold whisper that echoed in the tense silence of the room.
"Repeat what you just said. Now."