Chapter 426: 426. Haunted
The demon hunter tore down the parchnt sealed with the mayor’s stamp from the notice board and used it as a credential to gain access to the mayor’s office.
"Alright, according to the law, I have to show you this. So you can confirm that the notice you took down is legitimate and effective."
Inside the mayor’s office, the man behind the desk pointed to the heavy scepter leaning against the table, a symbol of the royal family’s power granted to the mayor.
But the action, which was supposed to be solemn, seed to have been repeated so many tis that the mayor had beco quite nonchalant during the process.
Simply put: he didn’t even bother to pick up the scepter to show it, but rather sat in his place and pointed with the quill in his hand, which counted as the demonstration.
After following the legal procedure, the mayor relaxed further and tossed away the quill in his hand.
"Please have a seat, sir. No, not there, over there. Please don’t mind, but let’s keep a little distance for now."
Lann’s tall figure sat on the chair, causing the solid wood chair to let out a mournful creak.
This noise made the mayor unable to stop his eyelid from twitching.
"Alright, sir. Let’s get down to business."
The mayor rubbed his hands together.
"My notice clearly states I only want demon hunters. I believe only professional demon hunters can resolve the trouble I’m looking to solve. So before revealing the content of the task to you, you need to prove that you are indeed a demon hunter, not just so fool crazed by money."
"Isn’t this dallion enough?"
Lann’s fingers pulled out the Roaring Bear Head Necklace from his collar.
But the mayor didn’t relent at all.
"retelli, my good fellow, do you still think it’s how many years ago? Do you know how many idiots I’ve seen running to
with a necklace made by a blacksmith? Yours is silver, better than theirs, but I can’t be sure you didn’t chance upon so unlucky dead demon hunter and plunder his corpse."
"Just do
a favor and let
see your eyes!"
The mayor snorted coldly.
The demon hunter under the hood remained silent for a mont, seemingly wrestling with sothing, but soon he stopped hesitating.
The hood was lifted, and his long, radiant hair cascaded down like molten silver.
The mayor, who had previously been annoyed, could now only make choking noises... he had choked on his saliva.
Lann revealed his full appearance, his amber cat eyes casually fixed on the mayor.
"Is that enough?"
"Ahem! Yes, sir. No! Yes, mister."
Lann’s appearance and aura montarily made the mayor of Sintra use the respectful forms of address reserved for nobility.
He only realized this later and stopped such inappropriate behavior.
"Uh, alright, I confirm you are a demon hunter. Now, next..."
"Next, let
talk to you about the task."
Before the mayor could finish his sentence, a voice interrupted him from the side room of the office.
It wasn’t a polite gesture, but the mayor didn’t seem to care at all.
A well-grood middle-aged man erged from the side room of the mayor’s office.
He wore a tight-fitting shirt with exquisite embroidery and puffed sleeves, along with tight pants, exuding a strong scent of perfu, with each strand of beard and hair ticulously grood.
"I am Hacksaw, the Sintra Palace Director. Since you are a genuine demon hunter, I will clarify the task details for you."
The elegantly dressed palace director passed in front of the mayor’s desk unceremoniously and sat on a chair closer to Lann. He then looked back at the mayor.
The gaze could be translated by Lann as: Brother, aren’t I impressive?
The mayor tilted his head and stopped speaking as a result.
"Alright, let’s get back to the main point."
The palace director took the announcent from Lann’s hand and shook it gently.
"This matter is tricky and urgent; it must be resolved as quickly as possible with minimal impact."
"This is no easy task. We initially sent many people, all good lads, but none returned. The only survivor was frightened mad upon returning, leading us to conclude that only a professional demon hunter can handle this."
"You are quite rational," Lann nodded.
"Many irrational people often think numbers can make a difference in such matters, and it takes three or four waves of casualties before they think of finding an expert."
Hacksaw shrugged: "This is Sintra, after all, and we’ve had dealings with demon hunters."
After the usual pleasantries and description of the task’s dangers, the palace steward finally got to the point.
His well-grood face turned sowhat grave.
"The current world is a terrible place."
Hacksaw muttered, the parchnt notice in his hand being mindlessly flipped.
"All sorts of filthy things are breeding, as if even those brainless things sense the tense atmosphere among nations, eagerly popping up to feast like carrion crows amidst the bloodshed of humans."
"The mountains of Sodden are rampant with protowisps. Where once the forests had wolves howling, now we see werewolves and other monsters. You can’t spit without hitting a kobold or goblin. Fairies and water nymphs snatch children from the villages by the hundreds. Unheard-of diseases erupt, raising the hair on one’s arms. The most alarming, however, is this incident!"
He flattened out the crumpled parchnt on his thigh.
"So, sir, there’s nothing strange about us needing a demon hunter’s help with this."
The palace steward’s thoughts seed erratic, quite out of place with his precise and ticulous attire.
"The announcent, Mr. Steward." Lann had to personally pull back his wandering thoughts. "I need the details of the task on the announcent."
"Oh, the details." The palace steward nodded repeatedly, "Of course, I know. I was the one who sent down the first wave of people... My God, please may compassionate retelli forgive , how could I have known it would turn out like this!"
"I sympathize with you, but... the details, sir." The demon hunter had to speak again, bringing the palace steward back from his guilty anguish.
"Oh, right! Yes, the details. Simply put... the Royal Mausoleum... is haunted!"
"Haunted... you an demon spirits?" Lann’s refined eyebrows arched slightly, "Are you sure?"
"What else could it be?" Hacksaw affird with absolute confidence, yet trembling with fear.
"Rember that heavy rain so ti ago? It ca so suddenly and fiercely. Normally, the Royal Mausoleum would undergo regular waterproofing, but those days happened to be during the construction period, without even a temporary waterproof line in place!"
"Oh, you should have seen it. That filthy yellow muddied water was practically pouring in from the mausoleum entrance! Surely this filth has angered the spirits of the ancestors, causing their unrest! If you ask , those who didn’t hurry to put a temporary waterproof line should be hanged!"
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