The drizzle that began in the morning continued until dusk, not stopping until the sun was nearly set, when the militia stationed in the nearby village finally arrived at the scene, much delayed.
Looking at the disarrayed forest, Sheriff Adela couldn't help but click his tongue, followed by Hephael, who murmured with difficulty.
"This is terrible."
Adela didn't respond, merely nodding his head, then turned his gaze toward the vine-covered "Skeleton Field."
Countless pale bones stood erect, their chilling appearance allowing him to guess the identity of the culprit.
Clearly, it was that lord.
Rather than concern himself with what everyone was whispering about, he only wanted to know the outcome of the war, who had won.
At that moment, a militiaman carrying a firearm approached.
"Sir! We found a hunter! It seems he's from our town."
"Lead me to him."
"Yes, sir!"
