Seeing that hideous, eerie smile spread across the scrawny man's face, Jeanne and Skadi instantly felt a surge of danger. Acting on pure instinct, they leapt backward to put a safe distance between themselves and the twisted figure.
The two muscular thugs who had been cowering earlier were terrified out of their wits. Scrambling behind Jeanne and Skadi, they stared at their strange companion, trembling so violently they could barely stay upright.
Jeanne shook her head, thoroughly unimpressed by their towering frames. How could men with so much muscle possess so little courage? Why even bother joining a street gang if a slight turn of events reduced them to shaking leaves? Staying safely at home would have suited them much better.
"Who are you? Or rather... what have you become?" Skadi's voice cut through the air like winter iron. She recognized the affliction instantly, her gaze sharp as she confronted the creature.
"He's holding dried sea beast meat," Skadi explained softly to Jeanne, her eyes remaining fixed on the target. "Whoever is pulling the strings cut the flesh into tiny pieces so no one could tell what kind of meat it was. Anyone who consumes it... turns into a monster like that when the time is right."
As she spoke, Skadi and Jeanne subtly reached back, grabbing the two trembling thugs and shoving them forward.
They weren't using them as meat shields. It was simply that these two were just as unsafe—anyone with a shred of sense knew they must have eaten the same meat.
If Skadi's guess was correct, the strange scent drifting through the alley was the catalyst activating the transformation. But where was the person controlling it?
"Save your breath. This is a remote spell!" A raspy, guttural voice tore from the thin man's throat—a sound far too warped to belong to a living human.
"And don't bother looking for me! The spell was planted the moment they ingested the sacred flesh. Why don't you take a guess at where I am... Abyssal Hunter?"
Beside him, one of the burly thugs suddenly stood up in an unnatural, contorted posture. A sickening smile stretched across his face as he took over the conversation seamlessly.
The sight caught even Skadi off guard. She had only been away from these lands for a few years, yet the cult's methods had evolved to such a chilling degree.
"I know you're eager to find us, just as we're eager to meet you," the controlled thug hissed. "Finding an Abyssal Hunter out in the open is rare indeed, especially after that thorn in our side tore through so many of our sanctuaries..."
A flash of genuine hatred flickered through the voice at the mention of "that thorn."
Skadi instantly realized someone in the city was actively hunting the cultists down. It didn't take much thought for her to guess who that relentless pursuer might be.
"Though none of that matters now," the other transformed thug added, his expression frozen in that unnerving grin. "What matters is that you've returned... We will definitely meet face-to-face in the near future!"
The moment the words left his mouth, a strange ripple distorted the air around them.
Within the blink of an eye, the bodies of the thugs expanded and twisted, their flesh tearing open as they morphed into ghastly, scaled abominations. The sight was enough to make anyone's skin crawl.
Skadi merely let out a quiet sigh. With a swift, practiced sweep of her massive sword, she cleaved the monstrosities into lifeless fragments before they could leap forward. Turning to Jeanne, she gestured for her to purge the remains.
Jeanne summoned her holy flames, reducing the severed flesh to piles of harmless gray ash. Burning the remains was essential—it prevented the cult from recycling the biological mass, such as turning it back into dried meat to lure starving citizens. In a city where food was scarce, such dark tactics were all too common.
"It seems the situation in this city is far worse than we imagined," Jeanne murmured, shaking her head as the flames subsided.
They had known the coastal city harbored dark secrets, but encountering something this deep on their very first day was beyond expectations. Worse still, the cultists made no effort to conceal their presence, acting with blatant arrogance.
"Go on back to the house first," Jeanne said, pressing a hand to her forehead to ward off an oncoming headache. "I'll notify the Inquisitors about this. It's better if you don't come along, just in case things get tense between you and them."
She departed quickly. Less than twenty minutes later, the young Inquisitor she had met earlier arrived at the scene with a full squad of armored guards. The moment he arrived, his eyes fell upon the pile of charred, sea-scented cinders resting on the cobblestones.
"Merciful divine..." the Inquisitor muttered, a look of profound exhaustion and pain crossing his face.
He hadn't expected mere street thugs to be entangled with The Deep Sea Church. Just how deep had the cult infiltrated his city? How many more sleeper agents were hidden among the populace?
"Praying won't clean up this mess," Jeanne said softly, observing the distraught officer. "I can see you're stretched thin, so I'll leave you to your work. I won't disrupt your investigation any further."
She prepared to take her leave. The situation was a tangled quagmire, and getting deeper involved promised endless trouble.
The Inquisitor looked as if he wanted to ask for her aid, but he swallowed the request before it could leave his mouth. Pride and duty forbade him from dumping his city's burdens onto a visitor from Laterano.
Yet, as he watched Jeanne's figure vanish down the street, he murmured to himself, "I have a feeling our paths will cross on this matter again soon..."
He stared at the ash pile, his brows furrowed in deep thought. "Why would a cultist go out of their way to target two helpless orphaned girls? Was it purely for property, or is there something special about that location? Or perhaps... those children possess something we haven't seen?"
Rather than barging into the sisters' home to interrogate them, he decided to leave that line of inquiry to Jeanne. He trusted the judgment and integrity of someone recognized by Saint Carmen.
Meanwhile, the very same question weighed heavily on Jeanne and Skadi as they gathered in the stone house. Why would The Deep Sea Church waste time targeting two young orphans? Money alone couldn't be the answer—the modest savings left by their parents weren't worth such deliberate, coordinated effort.
Jeanne called the older sister into the main room. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jeanne paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before looking into the young girl's eyes.
"Anne," Jeanne began gently, her gaze steady as she sat across from the Feline child. "I want to ask you a few questions about your parents."
Anne sat stiffly on the edge of her chair, visibly tense under the gaze of two powerful warriors.
Her younger sister had been taken to another room by Fafnir to play, keeping the younger child sheltered from any painful revelations regarding their parents' past.
"Ask whatever you need to, ma'am!" Anne declared, taking a deep breath to steel herself. "If it helps you, I'll tell you everything I know, word for word!"
She spoke with earnest intensity, terrified that Jeanne might doubt her honesty or decide to abandon them.
"There's no need to be so formal," Jeanne said with a warm, reassuring smile, waving her hand to put the child at ease. "I simply want to know what your parents did for a living before the incident. Did anything unusual happen before their passing? Or did they leave behind any peculiar keepsakes?"
Anne was far from foolish. Hearing those specific questions, her eyes widened in shock as the implication sank in.
"Are you saying..." Her voice trembled, her hands clenching into tight fists as a surge of raw emotions filled her eyes. "My parents' death... wasn't just a random accident?"
"We suspect it might not be," Jeanne answered carefully. "We ran into some... unusual circumstances earlier, which is why we need to verify a few details with you."
Jeanne hesitated briefly, wondering if she was placing too heavy a burden on the child's shoulders. Revealing such dark possibilities could alter the course of her young life forever.
"It was them, wasn't it? The Deep Sea Church!" Anne suddenly stood up, her small frame shaking with explosive rage. Her young face twisted with furious grief, every trace of fear replaced by an overwhelming urge to avenge her fallen family.
In that moment of raw heartbreak, all etiquette vanished, leaving only a child staring down the dark truth of her parents' fate.