Words once buried in memory had been spoken aloud again, as though the past itself had crossed the long river of time and returned to the living world.
Lloyd looked toward the others, his gaze cold and heavy.
It was almost as if language itself possessed power. As he spoke in that quiet voice of his, something unseen began to breed within the corners untouched by the firelight.
"It took us several days to reach that town. They called it Valley Town. Because of the terrible roads and the strange fog that hung over the place year-round, the locals all carried a kind of sickly air about them."
"The entire town felt… wrong. And according to the postman, several horrifying murders had occurred there. Though honestly, calling them murders wasn't accurate anymore. Human beings shouldn't have been capable of doing such things."
"Such things?" Red Falcon asked, already drawn completely into the story.
"Brutal slaughter," Lloyd answered slowly. "The kind that resembled some grotesque religious sacrifice."
"Human beings instinctively resist harming their own kind. Even when killing another person, there is usually hesitation, disgust, resistance buried somewhere in the mind. To carry out something even crueler than murder… one would either need to be deeply broken, or trained into coldness."
"Our arrival drew no attention whatsoever. In fact, the townsfolk seemed to deliberately pretend they couldn't see us. Eventually we reached the church at the center of Valley Town, and the priest there guided us to the crime scenes."
"That was where we saw it."
His voice lowered.
"Human bodies hung from hooks. Dismembered. But this wasn't rage. Nor was it some sadistic indulgence. The killer acted with purpose. Like a butcher in a slaughterhouse, carefully cutting away only the parts they required."
Lloyd continued quietly.
"It was stranger than any mission I had encountered before. When ordinary people are attacked by demons, the wounds are usually bites, tearing, mutilation. But this case was different. The crimes were monstrous, yet the 'monster' behind them possessed clear intelligence. More importantly…"
He paused.
"There was no trace of corruption at any scene."
Though they were merely words, once they entered the listeners' ears, Red Falcon and the others felt the same nausea creeping into them. It was as though something cold and wet had begun squirming within their stomachs, while the stale air itself thickened with the scent of blood.
"So by that logic," Robin said softly, "the killer was human."
No corruption meant no demonic presence.
But Lloyd did not answer directly.
"That," he murmured, "was the most disturbing part of the mission. From the perspective of an outsider, the entire thing was riddled with flaws. But once you truly stepped inside it…"
He looked into the fire.
"You became lost. Even demon hunters were no exception."
Still, he refused to reveal the truth outright. The atmosphere slowly tightened into something suffocating, as the unknown circled around the four of them like unseen ghosts.
"There were several questions from the beginning. We didn't know the killer's motive. We didn't know what connected the victims. But most importantly…"
"Why had the priests never reported the matter to the Church?"
"Why was it a half-mad postman who brought the news instead?"
"Our squad held a brief discussion and temporarily concluded the incident might be connected to cult rituals. So we proceeded according to the methods taught within the Order."
"Cult rituals?" Joey frowned. "Under the rule of the Church, things like that still exist?"
"Of course they do," Lloyd replied calmly. "You can never truly eradicate them. Even the great eastern crusades in history only managed to cripple them."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Strange, isn't it? It almost feels as though someone has always been supporting them from the shadows."
"Cults themselves aren't unusual. To the Church, any faith other than its own is heresy."
"Rulers require belief in order to deceive the ignorant. And rituals are the perfect bridge between mortals and those vague, unreachable gods."
"In the Order's archives, this kind of mutilation—taking specific body parts—strongly resembled the preparation of sacrificial materials."
Lloyd shifted his posture and glanced toward the others.
"Your Purge Bureau probably has similar records."
Joey nodded. Unlike the secretive traditions of the Demon Hunting Order, the modernized Purge Bureau documented such matters in a far more systematic manner.
"Once we had a direction, things became easier. After all, we were demon hunters. Compared to demons, cultists were far less terrifying."
"Though we didn't let our guard down. Many cults are ultimately tied to demons."
"For example, someone accidentally witnesses a demon and becomes corrupted. During the early stages, they still retain their sanity. And so they begin treating that corruption as a 'miracle,' using it to deceive others."
Lloyd spoke of the cases as though reciting lessons from an old textbook.
"The result is usually large-scale demonic outbreaks. Thankfully, demon hunters always manage to exterminate them in time."
"So at the time, we believed Valley Town was hiding either a cult… or perhaps a demon worshipped as some divine revelation."
"After leaving the crime scene, our squad returned to the church. Before anything else, we needed to understand why the priests had concealed the situation."
"But while we were walking through the streets…"
Lloyd's expression darkened.
"Something changed."
"The entire town… changed."
"The fog-covered sky became completely gray. There was no one on the streets. No sound whatsoever. It felt as though the world itself had emptied, leaving only the three of us behind."
"And aside from that dim gray light hanging overhead…"
"There was no other source of illumination."
The ancient town became a place of gloom and obscurity, where something unknown lurked beneath the shadows, silently watching.
Without realizing it, the atmosphere around them tightened with fear.
"You didn't just make all this up as some horror story, did you?" Red Falcon asked skeptically. Given the detective's twisted sense of humor, it was not impossible.
Lloyd merely shook his head, his expression carrying faint contempt.
"Red Falcon… what do you think fear actually is?"
"Fear is… being afraid?"
Red Falcon fell silent halfway through the answer. He tried to define the emotion rationally, only to discover how difficult it became once one truly attempted to explain such a familiar word.
"Yes. That is humanity's oversight."
"People enjoy the convenience of steam engines, yet few ever think about how they work. In the same way, everyone accepts the existence of fear, but almost no one asks where it truly comes from."
An eerie light flickered within Lloyd's gray-blue eyes.
And they had to admit—when this detective began telling stories… or rather, when he began imposing his thoughts upon others…
They could feel something strange moving within his words.
"Fear, to put it accurately, is a psychological state born from uncertainty. From the uncontrollable. The unpredictable. The unknown."
"And it does not merely affect the mind."
"It affects the body as well."
Suddenly Lloyd seemed to realize something. His words quickened.
"From consciousness… into flesh."
He smiled faintly.
"I imagine all of you understand this feeling quite well."
"When fear begins, the human body enters an emergency state. Adrenaline floods the bloodstream. Breathing deepens and quickens. The heart pounds faster. Blood circulation accelerates. Muscles receive more oxygen and strength."
"The pupils dilate to gather more light. The brain releases chemicals that sharpen concentration and reaction speed…"
Then he stopped.
His voice sank low.
"And yet… how similar is this to demonic corruption?"
"Both begin in the mind."
"And spread into the body."
The silence afterward rang like the toll of some invisible bell, crashing against ordinary human thought.
None of them realized their own breathing had already grown heavier. Their pupils had widened ever so slightly.
Only after a long silence did Joey finally mutter,
"Lloyd… honestly, compared to being a detective or a demon hunter, you'd probably make a better cult leader."
"Naturally," Lloyd replied with a grin. "Before becoming demon hunters, we're trained as priests first. Even if it's mostly ceremonial, I'd say I was exceptionally gifted at it."
He laughed carelessly, entirely unconcerned by Joey's remark.
"But don't mind my rambling. Consider it nothing more than the wandering thoughts of an overthinking man."
Though despite his words, something deeply strange lingered within those gray-blue eyes.
"Anyway… back to the Valley of Terror mission."
"When we stood upon those empty streets, all three of us felt it simultaneously."
"That strange sensation."
"That fear."
"Like corruption itself, it seized us."
"That was when we realized something was terribly wrong, and we returned to the church according to plan."
The memory slowly became clearer.
Within that gray and lifeless world, the church stood like a black silhouette rising from a sea of ash-colored mist, its towering spire resembling a spear thrust toward the heavens.
"We expected something horrific to attack us along the way."
"But nothing appeared."
"And somehow… that silence was worse."
"If hundreds of demons had rushed us at that moment, it might actually have been comforting."
"Because once demons reveal themselves, fear gains a form."
"And anything with form…"
Lloyd's voice turned vicious.
"…can be killed with a spike blade."
"But whatever hid beneath that gray fog was far more complicated than we imagined. It never confronted us directly."
"It only found ways to make us afraid."
At the end of the gray mist, they pushed open the heavy church doors.
A violent stench of blood crashed over them.
The holy priest lay in a pool of crimson, his expression still devout.
The trembling fog wrapped itself around the young demon hunters. They gripped their spike blades tightly, weapons capable of cleaving steel itself—yet before an enemy without shape, even such power felt meaningless.
"The priest was dead," Lloyd said softly.
"But he had not been murdered."
"He killed himself."
"He sacrificed himself."
The words sounded like some obscure incantation. Beyond the windows, violent winds suddenly roared through the dark.
"Sacrificed… himself?" Robin asked heavily.
Lloyd nodded.
"'To You beyond the unknown, I offer everything I possess. Please protect this lonely island within the darkness.'"
"That sentence was carved into the church pews."
"There was blood upon the letters."
"It seemed to have been the priest's final words."
"We should have realized it earlier. The church never reported the incident because they themselves had already become part of the cult."
The atmosphere froze completely.
"The holy priests had already fallen."
Even Lloyd's voice carried lingering dread.
He had no idea how long the corruption had existed, nor when the horrors of Valley Town had truly begun.
"We had walked directly into a trap."
"Everyone in Valley Town…"
"…was our enemy."
The rolling fog swallowed everything.
Blood crept slowly across the floorboards until it reached Lloyd's feet.
The still-wet crimson formed strange and complicated symbols upon the ground. The priest lay within them, wearing an expression of absolute devotion—a devotion no longer toward God, but toward darkness itself.
The ancient castle around them shattered apart.
The four remained seated amidst the roaring winds as pale stone bricks rose from the ground one after another, stacking into walls while warm candlelight flickered to life like waves trembling in the storm.
Memory and reality overlapped.
It felt as though they themselves now sat upon those church pews.
From the fire within the furnace, a sacred statue slowly emerged. Blood streamed from its hollow eyes as though it were silently gazing toward those who would one day look back upon this moment… waiting for their prayers.
The detective slowly rose and gently touched the pale golden statue.
Blood immediately began flowing over his fingers.
Deep within distant memories, inside that forgotten church, the lead demon hunter turned slowly toward the other two.
His youthful face was filled with vigilance… and barely restrained terror.
"This place…"
"…is a trap."
042 spoke.
Then the noise came.
Chaotic voices echoed from outside the church. Within the gray fog came a dreadful sensation, and dark silhouettes slowly rose one after another.
The sickly townsfolk stood beyond the mist, raising torches and crude crosses bound together from wire and broken wood.
It was the fear hidden within memory itself.
Strange symbols painted in blood covered their pale faces. Severed limbs were lifted high above their heads.
And in that instant, Lloyd finally understood why none of the victims had shown signs of resistance before death.
These were not murders.
They were sacrifices.
Again and again, sacrifices offered to something unknown.
The entirety of Valley Town was one enormous altar.
Even the fleeing postman had perhaps once been meant as an offering.
Their twisted faces contorted in ecstatic screams and celebration.
"No… no…"
042 stared at the scene in disbelief before roaring,
"Get back here, 016!"
Only then did 016 snap out of her trance near the doorway. She hurried back toward the others.
The three demon hunters drew their spike blades and watched the maddened crowd outside the church with absolute vigilance.
Then burning projectiles began crashing through the windows.
One after another.
Within moments, flames surged toward the heavens.
Only when the cultists finally drew close did the hunters see their true faces.
Masks.
Hideous masks carved from human skin and white bone.
And they came screaming forward like a rising tide.