The writer of that piece of paper had been revealed and most of the mystery was resolved. However, Arthur still wanted to know more about the underground Arman ‘facility’. That, and the presence of people from Arman descent clearly meant that there was something special about this place.

Alas, the reptilian beast was not a living being, which disheartened the parasite. In fact, the System did not even deign to respond or offer some clarification. All Arthur saw atop its head was a series of ‘????’.

It was no secret that the Hollow Creek region was riddled with mystical and dangerous places.

After leaving the inn room, Arthur headed back to the still-open hole and went down. The place was as eerie as before, illuminated by magical lamps integrated into the solid golden black walls, which were also filled with golden pipes and tubes.

Unfortunately, Arthur couldn't read or write Arman Language and Latif’s [Arman Language] skill proved useless in this situation. His minor familiarity with a couple of words did not aid him in resolving the truth behind the place. Nonetheless, Arthur thoroughly visited every accessible place of the facility, hoping to find a hidden passageway or anything of the sort.

The nest of the now-dead beast was a circular room with innumerable Arman words engraved on the walls as well as disorderly monoliths erected around the room.

No matter how much he scrutinized them, Arthur found no meaning or purpose. At first, he contemplated writing the words on the wall but the sheer number of them soon made him give up.

He sighed and kept wandering the facility, inspecting the symbols and vainly attempting to make sense of the noticeably large white words.

He had hoped [Arman Language]’s proficiency would, at least, increase, but even that did not happen.

The entirety of the night was spent looking around and trying to open the two massive doors at the other side of the facility. He had seen them the first time he arrived here but, out of the three, only one was open and it led right into the beast’s nest.

‘If this is indeed an Arman construct then, logically, only an Arman would be able to activate the mechanisms. That is to say, I need an Arman host…’

He sighed and scoffed at his own ridiculous thoughts. The Armans had been extinct for a long time and stumbling upon Ami was pure coincidence and incredible luck. That is to say, there is no way he would open the doors in his current state.

Brute force could be a possible alternative, but neither Arthur nor his companions were strong enough to make a dent on the doors, much less open them.

…

At the break of dawn, when the dark sky was tainted by a pink and orange hue, Arthur exited the facility only to come face to face with Greg and Vanraz, the only two surviving hunters. Both were holding steel swords but they did not attack the parasite.

“You’ve had your fun. How about you leave now?”

Greg, unlike his usual self, spoke with a cold and unwelcoming tone. He appeared calm but his trembling hand, either from anger, rage, or grief, was barely able to hold the blade.

Vanraz was pretty much the same as he piercingly glared at Arthur and held himself back.

“I am going to.”

He replied as he wiped the dried blood off his sleeves and looked around, noticing the remaining villagers peeking from inside the tavern.

Evelyn and Mort came seconds later, the latter wearing clean clothes and the latter cackling and mumbling incomprehensible words.

Like the hospitable people they were, Vanraz and Greg ‘escorted’ the visitors to the entrance of the village. They were on high-alert and did not get too close to the parasite, not after witnessing what he and the maid were capable of.

The dusty sign displaying the name of the village was dangling left and right as Arthur stopped right beneath it. He did not speak to the two hunters nor look at them, but before he and his company departed, Vanraz begrudgingly said,

“Yesterday… you were wrong.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur turned around and looked at the ex-soldier.

“And what, pray tell, was I wrong about?”

“You betlittled our religion and mocked our devotion. What you said was wrong.”

“Oh?”

Arthur snickered at the man and shrugged, seemingly not caring. “Just because I don’t agree with you then I’m wrong? Let it be said that it was not I who clung onto a false hope and murdered innocents for a non-existent God.”

“We had faith. We believed… and that brought us comfort and happiness. That’s what mattered.”

“Tell me, Alexander, was it fun to trick us?” Greg also joined in as he tightened his grasp on the sword.

“Fun? No at all. It was, however, enlightening, to say the least. I got to see how you people lived. I’m not denying that-albeit fleeting- there was a semblance of bliss and happiness, which acted as a façade for the atrocities you have committed. I mean, did you ever stop and question your morals? Or try to figure out what it was that made you fear the witches? I think not. You blindly listened to Dominus.”

“You dare lecture us about morals? You who have slaughtered our families and friends?”

“We were defending ourselves. Was I supposed to let you burn me on a stake?” Evelyn harrumphed and rebuked the man, who still refused to admit his mistake.

“Admittedly, not all of you were guilty. Nevertheless, I consider those who watched and did nothing no different. I pity your children… having to be raised in a place like this.”

“There’s nothing left in here!” Shouted Vanraz.

“Exactly. It’s time to move on. I hope this tragedy taught you something.”

Arthur turned around and unceremoniously waved his hand as he walked away.

“I pray we do not meet again.” His last words, clarion and loud, echoed across the road.

“You had better hope not!” Greg gritted his teeth and watched as the parasite and his two companions disappeared from view.

…

With no destination in mind, Arthur, Evelyn, and Mort used the main road and walked for hours. Except for the zombie, who would regularly disappear and come back with a bloodied mouth and boast about how he defeated his opponent, there was only a long silence between the maid and her master.

‘Twas only around noon, when they stopped at a relatively open and safe area did they talk to each other.

Evelyn patted the dirt off her black pants then sat on a rock, her eyes following the pacing parasite.

“Were we the bad guys, Master?”

“Hm?”

Arthur, who had been pondering about the Arman facility, halted his feet and looked back at her.

“There’s no clear and definitive answer for that, my dear Evelyn. However, I can give you an answer based on my perspective.”

She nodded once and, with interest all over her face, listened.

“First, let me get a couple of facts straight for a better and clearer response. We visited their village and befriended them… then, we made you look like a witch, to which they reacted negatively and opted to burn you on a stake. In retaliation, you killed them. I, for my part, snuck into that facility and consequently fought that beast or better call it ‘their Lord’. Things happened and many more died. Basically, we were the catalyst. Although, there is no denying our direct influence in the tragic outcome.”

“We got Ami killed.”-Evelyn

“Mostly my fault. I instructed her to stay home and she did not, probably because of the chaos unfolding outside. It was an unexpected variable that led to an unfortunate accident. The thing is, Evelyn, we can’t just be on either side of the spectrum, and I’m sure you already know that?”

“....”

“Yes, moral relativism and all, we would be guilty of murder. However, it’s not always white and black. Personally, I would do worse things to survive… After all, we are fickle-minded creatures, flawed to a fault. If we pause to question everything we do then there would be no end to self-conflict and doubt. Is that not so, Despoina?”

“Don’t call me that, I hate it.”

“Why? Despoina is the Goddess of Mysteries. A fitting name for a hard-working maid such as yourself, would you not agree?”

“I do not. What about Alexander?”

“Ah! Just a random name I came up with.”

“...”

He motioned for her to edge to the side then sat down right next to her. He took out Ami’s notebook and proceeded to look at the pictures.

Evelyn also looked at the pictures while pondering. “Where are we going next, Master?”

“Still unsure. Any suggestions?”

She withdrew her gaze and sighed, her eyes shifting to the wobbling Mort.

“With him around, our choices are limited. We shouldn’t go to any settlements near Wilsden as people might recognize you.”

“Being recognized is the least of my worries, my dear Evelyn. As much as I want to keep exploring the Hollow Creek, I have to admit that it’s beyond our capabilities, which means…”

“Which means?”

“We’ll continue our journey by heading North of Archwood and see where that leads.”

“That’s not reassuring, Master. We might need to restock soon.”

“Restock? We have everything we need.”

She clicked her tongue and retorted, “You barely changed your clothes. I understand that you’re no longer a noble but you have to at least look presentable… and get rid of the pungent smell of sweat and blood.”

Arthur frowned then smelled his clothes as the maid edged farther away from him while pinching her nose.

“I guess a brief respite wouldn’t be that bad. I’ve had enough of towns and villages, so we’ll stop at a city.”

She gave him a warning look as she spoke again, “I hope that you behave yourself and steer away from trouble.”

“I won’t promise you that. Then again, I have you to protect my back so all will be fine!”

“I won’t throw myself in danger because of you, Master.”

Upon hearing this, he looked at her with a shit-eating grin, “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“I’m serious.”

“I am too, hahaha…”

****

The same day Arthur and his companions left, Greg and Vanraz gathered up what few villagers left and convinced them to relocate elsewhere. Although only three buildings were destroyed, the village was no longer a suitable and habitable place.

Arthur had burnt the corpses, however, the stench of blood was ever-present. That, and the eerie sight of the now quasi-deserted village, which was both haunting and disturbing.

“Food and water are top priority. Don’t bring anything else!”

Greg made sure everyone was ready before night fell; He and Vanraz led the small group of villagers and, after one last look, they departed in brooding silence.

Unbeknownst to them, or even Arthur, something strange happened that very night. The praying altar, which had traces of blood from those who died by the beast or Evelyn’s hands, glowed up with a blinding golden radiance.

It absorbed the blood at its foot, specifically Ami’s. When she was cut down and her gore and blood burst forth, some of it happened to land on the altar, and that was what caused this unexpected reaction.

Below the town, one of the two tightly-shut doors opened, the pipes started releasing steam and the walls themselves were moving and changing the structure of the facility.

…

The notorious creek, filled with all kinds of monstrosities, was dominated by deafening growls. Amidst the ominous darkness, pairs of golden lights shone through as black-scaled beasts, no smaller than the one Arthur had killed, began to move in unison.

They all rushed toward the village as if something was urgently calling to them.