Chapter 8: A Wonderful Night!
Bang!
A burst of fire erupted. The exploding pellets shattered the werewolf’s head.
“Lost lamb, return to the Lord’s embrace,” Rhodes slowly extended his hand.
Equivaria!
With a flash of light, the werewolf’s corpse vanished in an instant. Rhodes felt a surge of power rise within him, though not as dramatically as last ti. Obviously, the stronger he beca, the more energy it took to grow further. The sa offering gave him less and less in return.
Rhodes holstered his shotgun. God may forgive all the sins of the world, but his job was to send these damned sinners to et Him.
The group of militian, having witnessed Rhodes kill a werewolf so effortlessly, wore expressions that were a mix of awe, fear, and disbelief.
A powerful werewolf… Defeated so easily?
The militia could barely believe it. It felt surreal, like a dream.
“Can I co in now?” Rhodes asked, unfazed by the reverent and fanatical stares cast his way.
This world revered strength. In peaceful tis, people might have feared or distrusted soone with power like his. But to these villagers, who were constantly under the threat of werewolves, his arrival was like that of a savior.
“Please, co in!”
The militia captain quickly gathered his n and cleared the barricade. They all looked at Rhodes with extre caution and respect. Eventually, the captain couldn’t resist asking, “Are you… the legendary demon hunter, Constantine?”
Constantine?
Rhodes blinked but didn’t deny it. He knew nothing of this world, and a convenient alias might help him fit in better. Since Rhodes didn’t refute the na, the militian took it as confirmation. They exchanged excited glances.
Demon Hunter Constantine, a na renowned across the Southern Continent, is known for hunting down powerful monsters. If this man were Constantine, then maybe their village could be saved!
“Where are the werewolves?!”
“Show us the werewolves!”
“Kill those damn beasts!”
At that mont, a loud commotion ca from down the street. A dense crowd carrying torches and pitchforks charged over. But all they saw were the militian and a stranger.
“Didn’t you sound the alarm? Where are the werewolves?”
A man in his fifties stepped forward from the crowd, his face stern.
“Village Chief, a werewolf did appear, but it’s already been slain,” The militia captain replied with excitent.
“Slain?”
The chief froze, suspicion written all over his face. These few n killed a werewolf? Did they think he was a fool?
“Chief, this is the famous demon hunter, Constantine!”
“The werewolf was killed by him.”
The militia captain brought the chief to Rhodes.
“Constantine? This is the legendary demon hunter?”
The villagers murmured, so skeptical, others wide-eyed with fervor. Most, however, were filled with excitent.
The constant threat of werewolves had forced them to live in fear every day. Though there were ways to repel them, once the beasts starved long enough, they turned rabid. An attack could happen anyti. Every so often, soone in the village would die. If things continued like this, the village would eventually be wiped out. If this stranger really was Constantine, maybe they stood a chance against the beasts. Listening to the militian retelling how Rhodes effortlessly killed a werewolf, even those in doubt began to believe. Surely not everyone would lie to them, right?
“Mr. Constantine, please save our village. We’ll give you everything we have of value!”
Surrounded by the excited crowd, Rhodes found himself awkwardly dealing with the overly enthusiastic villagers. He looked toward the village chief, only to see a sour expression on the man’s face. It was as if the chief wasn’t happy about his presence, to say the least.
Interesting.
“Seems like this village is hiding so secrets,” Rhodes muttered quietly.
Escorted by the villagers, he was brought to the best inn in town.
“Mr. Constantine, it’s already late. Please rest here tonight. As for clearing out the werewolves, tomorrow will be soon enough.”
The innkeeper, a warm and hearty middle-aged man, led the way.
“This is our finest room. I’ll have soone bring you food shortly.”
“I don’t have any money,” Rhodes said helplessly. After all, he didn’t possess this world’s currency.
“You killed a werewolf. That makes you a savior of our village. Everything you need here is free. Please help us eliminate those beasts outside.” The innkeeper replied with utmost sincerity.
Then he suddenly gave Rhodes a sly, knowing smile, “Mr. Constantine must be tired. Enjoy this wonderful night to the fullest.”
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