Outside the crooked, ramshackle cottage, a young man clutched the large bump on the back of his head, looking utterly terrified.
Beside him, a few people were using small knives and similar items to untie the two villagers whose muscles were torn and bones broken, ensnared by a silver-white net.
Stepping onto the uneven, splintered wooden bench, Horn slowly entered the small cottage that once held prisoners.
On the dirty ground, a broken iron fang and a few snapped ropes lay quietly.
"Hezi." Horn's voice was calm, but Hezi couldn't help but shiver all over.
"Three guarding one and got counter-killed, what else do you have to say?"
Hezi fell to his knees with a thud: "Master, Master Saint Grandson Pope, it's the people below who were disobedient, it truly has nothing to do with me. Please wait, I'll take people to catch him right away and guarantee to bring him back to you."
"Bring him back?" Horn let out a cold laugh, gesturing to Busak.
Busak stepped forward and whispered, "The raft by the river has been rowed away by that monk. The big boat is probably hard to control, he's useless."
Ignoring the despondent Hezi, Horn stepped over a puddle of slime and approached the stern-faced Demon Hunter.
Bending down to meet the Demon Hunter's eyes, Jilo also stared back calmly, waiting for Horn to question him.
"Tough? Cut off a finger."
"As ordered."
"Hey, hey, hey." Jilo's initially cold face collapsed, his wrinkles gathering in surprise and obsequiousness.
"Dear Secret Faction elder, you should ask first, how will you know if I'm cooperating if you don't ask and just cut off a finger? That's not right."
Horn was somewhat surprised; he thought this tough-looking Demon Hunter would be strong-willed.
With the situation urgent, Horn couldn't delve deeper and directly said, "Dare to lie, first sentence—cut a finger, second—chop off a hand, third—cut your dick, fourth—off with your head."
"Ouch, how would I dare?"
"How did the monk break the rope?"
"He had steel teeth in his mouth, which he used to bite through the rope, even spat out half a tooth."
"How did he escape from the guards?"
"After biting through the rope, he took a bench and knocked one guard out. The other two tried to scream but he caught them with a Holy Web Ball."
"Wait a minute, when you were captured, they searched you, where did this Holy Web Ball come from?"
"You don't know this, but that monk, like Durdafer, is a choir boy by origin, his arsehole's bigger than his head. Forget one Holy Web Ball, he could stuff ten of them easily."
As Jilo spoke, it was as if he imagined that hellish scene before his eyes.
The cold, gloomy cottage, the squatting monk, the slight "pop" as he reached behind to pull out that sticky, reddish-brown stained orb.
Items like the Holy Water Grenade and the Holy Web Ball are tools monks use to protect priests and themselves.
Their power is just like other Church blessings and trinkets—especially effective against demons, but almost useless against people.
"Where might he have fled to?"
"He can only go to Gulag Monastery, that's where we came from."
"What for?"
"We fished a floating corpse out of the river, verified multiple times, it was Barnett..."
"Damn it!"
Horn could never have imagined Barnett's body was found; he thought it might be the Church's great prophecy spell or something.
Since arriving in this world, Horn always felt he was cursed with bad luck.
However, one crucial part was that Priest Hedge of Tree Hedge Village didn't know what he looked like, didn't know he killed Barnett, didn't know about the Witch's existence.
If he could wipe out this investigation team, then the clues would be cut short. By the time Priest Hedge tries to investigate again, Horn would have long escaped to breathe the free air of Norn.
Should've decisively killed them all from the start.
If the monk really met Durdafer, that would spell big trouble—he had seen his face!
With this in mind, Horn's dangerous gaze turned to Jilo, making Jilo shiver.
Now he knew, with a pointing gesture, the monk had fingered the highest ranking of the Secret Faction, and killing him was almost like a casual decision.
"How did he escape without you? Aren't you a Demon Hunter, you must be stronger than him."
"I'm no fighter, I'm not a Demon Hunter."
"Oh? Bring the scissors!"
"I'm telling the truth, it is the truth, I really am not a Demon Hunter. I'm with the Secret Faction, we're on the same side, I have proof in my pouch, just need to hold it over the fire to see."
Throwing the scissors aside, Horn ordered someone to clean and gather men, then picked up an axe, miming a cut between Jilo's legs: "If I find nothing, that would be two lies."
Pulling out a few sheets of white paper from his pouch, holding them over the fire, brown-red words slowly surfaced on the paper.
Not only was there the joining time, level within the faction, who the master was, name code, there was even a small portrait.
Comparing one of them, Horn looked in amazement between Jilo and the person in the portrait.
"Is this you?"
Jilo craned his neck to look at the portrait: "It's me. At that time, I was very fat."
"Rose Society, Ruo'an Faction, Green Robed Brotherhood..." Opening the six proofs in hand, Horn cast a sidelong glance at Jilo, "You're quite well-connected, aren't you?"
"I was inserted into the Demon Hunter ranks by the Secret Faction as an undercover, to prevent our own from accidentally killing me, hence had to take such measures." Jilo grinned awkwardly.
"Oh, I see, so you're a fake Demon Hunter, no wonder."
In an instant, Horn figured out Jilo's background, sizing up the thirty-five or thirty-six-year-old con-man: "You look quite presentable, never been caught?"
Jilo tightened inwardly, quickly steering Horn's comments to another topic.
"Of course, I've been discovered, Master. There are snakelike paths and mouse-like paths, if I get discovered, I escape to Norn, I know many routes, I'm familiar with all the snakehead smugglers in this area."
"Oh?"
Horn's eyes brightened instantly, even a faint blush appeared on his face.
Despite feeling a bit dizzy, Horn perked up, for his plan needed just such professional local talent.
He needed a local scoundrel comrade like Jilo—no, a companion—to help him accomplish his escape plan from Thousand River Valley.
Seeing Horn's face flush and his eyes shine, Jilo clenched his buttocks tight, even praying silently in his heart.
Luckily, Horn didn't bother entangling with him further but instead turned and walked out of the cottage.
There was something more important he needed to do now.
Raindrops, slanting, fell onto Horn's forehead. Within the chilly rain, his gaze gradually became somber.
"Is everything ready?"
Jeska stooped down: "Everything's ready. Two Child Soldiers, four young men, plus me, Hezi and the Saintess, just waiting for you."
The rain fell heavier, but Horn's mind was ablaze like fire.
Invading and killing at someone's doorstep didn't align with Horn's principles of being discreet and cautious. It was too risky and ostentatious.
Yet sometimes, everything's progression had to consider the course of destiny, leaving no room to do what one wishes.
In his mind's eye, he could already see himself being beheaded by the Knights and mercenaries coming to suppress him, his head sent throughout Thousand River Valley.
If he didn't act, this would be his fate.
No more hesitating, a heavy blow must be struck.
Shaking his head to clear the dizziness and blur, Horn said through clenched teeth: "Pursue and ambush that monk, he must not meet Priest Hedge of Tree Hedge Village, Durdafer."
Bending down, he picked up the Demon Hunter's steel sword from the ground and slung it over his back: "If he can go to Gulag Monastery, so can I!"