We introduced ourselves and then followed the man and his escort outside. From there, we slowly walked towards the center of town, passing through the dimly lit streets to enter the heart of the village. It didn't surprise me when the houses near the center were of a higher quality than the rest of the village. Every city had its place where the richer folk lived; a small village wasn't that different.

The guard's head swiveled from left to right, acting like someone would jump out at any moment. Devon walked calmly, his eyes lazily scanning the surroundings.

If he's not freaked out, then I won't be either.

The portly man led us to one of the largest buildings. In the shape of a house, it consisted of two stories with a knee-high fence made of grey brick. It felt extravagant among the much smaller homes around it.

When the man pulled out a set of silver keys, he unlocked the door and swiftly entered. The guard placed himself on the outside of the building, his spear held away but raised. He kept his head straight while his eyes scanned the surroundings.

The room we entered looked like a living room connected to a kitchen and dining room. It wasn't as large as a mansion, but the house had a lot more space than the others.

The portly man sat in his own chair with a wide red cushion to pad the seat. Sitting down visibly relaxed him, his shoulders loosening as he sunk into the cushion. For a moment, he seemed to forget that Devon and I existed, standing and waiting to see what he said.

His eyes widened, and he sat up while motioning to the other chairs. "My apologies, Grimms. Sit, sit. I'm afraid I'm rather rattled at the moment."

I chose the chair to the man's right while Devon sat in the one directly opposite. He didn't melt into his chair the way the man did. His back stayed straight, and he rested his hands on his lap.

"I assume you are the Village Master?" Devon asked.

"Ah, yes. The city lord appointed me six years ago. For the most part, it's been a relatively peaceful position. Occasionally, we get the bad egg who causes problems but the winters have been kind, and the villagers remain happy," the man answered. His smile cracked, and he glanced out the nearest window before turning back to Devon. "But my apologies for the disrespectful delay. My name is Carter Prelus. It's an honour to meet you."

Devon watched the man with slow blinks that further cracked Carter's smile.

He's very good at the whole silent and intimidating thing. I'm glad I'm not receiving it.

Carter continued to squirm in his seat. He even glanced toward me, but I had nothing to offer. This whole trip so far had been me following Devon around like a little kid. If he thought I'd be able to save him, he was out of luck.

Devon finally spoke, his words calm but with an iron that brokered no argument. "You know why we're here."

Carter froze for a second but regained his composure and nodded slowly. "I do. I'm sorry for the delay. It's just…"

Devon waited, his eyes unblinking, giving the man time to collect his thoughts.

Eventually, Carter closed his eyes and breathed in before exhaling and opening them once more. "Two weeks ago, a group of hunters came to our village. They said they had been tracking a stag for several days. They caused numerous problems. And it didn't help that the lot of them looked noble born, so there was only so much I could do."

"They entered the deep woods, didn't they."

Carter looked up in surprise. "Yes, uh, how did you know?"

"Explain the rest of the story."

"Oh. Yes, alright," Carter replied. "After causing issues and drinking for a night, they continued their hunt the next morning. Five young men and their three retainers entered, but only one young man came out. He was covered in all sorts of injuries. The boy shouldn't have survived long enough to collapse at the village gate, but he did."

Carter finally lost his polite smile and used a small cloth to pat his sweating brow. He had a haunted look in his eyes while his skin paled.

"What kind of injuries did he have, and where is the boy now?"

Carter paled even further as he glanced at the window again. "He succumbed within the night. We have no resident mage here-- Only Regis and his remedies. Those injuries the boy had… they were too much. He had bite marks up and down his limbs and cracked bones from something stomping on him. And many more injuries, too numerous to name."

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That sounds horrible.

A memory played. I looked down and saw the ribbon of flesh missing from my arm. Blood splattered the bars, and the snarling wolf's head watched me from the darkness.

I gripped the wood so hard the armrest creaked. The sound drew stares from Devon and Carter. Carter looked scared while Devon flashed me an understanding smile. Somehow, seeing Devon's blunt facade shift to offer comfort helped ground me.

This wasn't the Reds. The shadow wolf is mine to control. Calm down, Cain.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry. Please continue."

"Right, yes." Carter wiped his sweat again. "We had an emergency town meeting. The boys are obviously dead, but they were goldbloods; we can't leave them without angering the Houses. Even if we knew it was pointless, we created a small group of ten men, mostly our hunters and three guards, to help explore the woods for other bodies. If we could at least bring back proof of their deaths, we'd satisfy the city lord."

"How many survived?"

"Five. Four hunters, one guardsman. It's… a terrible loss." Carter sighed and locked his fingers. "The hunters provided us food, especially in winter. Without them, we'll face hard times. The village is on edge, and we keep seeing glowing eyes in the treelines. We're afraid something will happen soon, but we don't know what to do."

Devon stood up. "We'll take care of it. Can your guard lead us to Regis? It's best if we examine the body." Carter nodded. "Good. You know our price. Have it prepared."

Devon walked out of the house, and I stood up, but it felt awkward to leave so abruptly.

I turned to the village leader. "I'm sorry for your loss."

I didn't know what else to say, so I left the room and joined Devon outside. He stared but looked away without a word.

Right. He probably heard that.

The guard quickly dipped into the house and exited with a resigned look on his face. He nodded to the both of us and led us past a few wooden buildings. It looked like we had a minute or two before we arrived, so I wanted to ask the question burning on my tongue.

"Hey, Devon. What's the usual price?"

"Twenty-six Silver is our standard for a simple hunt. Plus whatever meat and supplies we need for the Warren."

The guard tried his best, but the question had drawn his attention, and he nearly clipped the edge of a wall while turning. His movements became much more rigid, and I almost wanted to laugh as the guard did his best impression of a tin soldier.

"Is that low or high? I can't tell if that's a good deal for monster hunting or not nearly enough."

Devon chuckled darkly. His laugh made the guard's movements speed up. "Usually not. But we can already negotiate the price depending on the danger. And most kingdoms know not to short a Grimm for their work. They generally have an amount set aside for problems like this."

"And if they don't pay up?" I asked. I had a sneaking suspicion in my gut that told me the solution wouldn't be peaceful.

Devon stopped and let the guard get further away before turning to face me. "Then a new hunt begins."

Devon stayed silent as we moved to catch up to the guard. He led us out of the center, but only by a little. A nicer-looking house with a wide door made of different coloured wood stood in its own corner. I smelled the faint tinge of herbs and mint that grew stronger the closer we got.

The guard knocked on the door and stepped back while covering his nose—the reason why became apparent when the door swung open, unleashing the unfiltered assault of smells. The herb scent became strong enough that even I covered my nose. Strangely, Devon didn't react and stared passively at the man answering the door.

He had a simple brown outfit consisting of slacks and a vest shirt. Around his waist, a leather apron covered the front half of his body while his hands sported thin leather gloves. Judging by the greying hair and fading streaks of black, he had to be over forty.

"What is it? Did Carter foolishly send more people to their deaths? I'm not equipped to handle such injuries!" The man shouted. He looked around, confused, but when he saw our red cloaks, he closed his mouth and backed up a step. "Oh. The Grimms are here."

The guard motioned towards us with his free hand, the other still clutching his spear. "Sorry to disturb you, Regis. The Grimms need to examine the body and ask a couple of questions. I'm sorry, Mr. Prelus' orders."

Regis waved the guard away and pulled out brass rim spectacles. He pushed them up his nose and held the door open. "You'll have to ignore the smell. Usually, I can mitigate it from spreading, but I had to create more salves in case." We stepped inside, and he led us down a flight of steps into the basement. "I'm not sure what Carter told you, but the boy's a mess. His fingers on the right side were missing most of their flesh. Chewed clean off. Whatever got to him, avoided his central organs, made sure his death was slow."

He glanced backwards when he received no reply and tugged at the collar of his shirt. I didn't blame him. Devon's silence was maddening.

We left the stairwell and pushed past a smaller door. Inside was a vast underground room lit by several self-contained lanterns. Outside of the direct light from the lanterns in the corners of the room, tables were piled high with parchment and wrapped packages. On the far side, drying herbs and various liquids littered the room.

Regis ignored the alchemy equipment and moved to the far wall and up to the wooden door with an iron lock. He pulled out a silver key and removed the lock. The door opened and led into a room the size of a walk-in closet.

There were three tables to the side, one for each side of the room that wasn't the entrance. The two tables on the side had nothing on their tops; the dull metal shined faintly within the candlelight.

The middle table had a brown sheet that looked dipped in wax. An odor permeated the room, different from the rest of the house. Where the rooms before smelled of herbs and mint, the body had a clinical odor that singed my nose hairs. It reeked of antiseptic, with an underlying must that made me pull my hoodie over my nose.

Regis saw my reaction but shrugged. "I've done what I can to preserve the corpse, but we'll have to burn it soon."

Devon turned to the alchemist. "Remove the sheet."

"Are you sure? It's not much to look at."

"Determining the wounds will help narrow down the perpetrator. If there is any remnant mana, we'll be able to track it. Now remove the sheet."

Regis held up his hands placatingly. "Alright. You might want to cover your nose."

He walked forward and tugged the sheet, revealing the corpse underneath.