As I walked down the crowded streets, I could hear the murmurs of the residents talking. Gossip had already began to fly about from the recent kill. Everyone was wondering who the victim was, who the killer was. Some criticized the watchmen for allowing the killer to roam free, while others hid their children for fear that they would be taken next.

Soon, I came across the dark alley where the body was found. Wedged between two residences, with the outer wall of the city to its back, it seemed like the perfect place to hide a body without raising a fuss. If not for someone noticing the smell, the body might not have been discovered so quickly.

When I walked towards the alley, a pair of guards clad in leather and copper armor stepped out, angling their spears to block the alley. “Halt. This area is still under investigation.”

I nodded my head in understanding. “I know, that’s why I’m here.” I reached into the pocket of my leather cloak, pulling out a small badge. It seemed like a plate of silver in the form of a shield, a spear laid out diagonally across it. This was the symbol of the hunters, and also the source of some of their powers.

“A-ah.” The guard who spoke previously stepped back, his eyes wide. “Apologies. I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” The other guard looked at him curiously for a moment, before following suit and moving aside.

“Has the victim been moved yet?” I asked, glancing into the alley.

“Yes.” The guard gave a quick nod. “Just this morning. The church is holding the body until it has been investigated, and then they will purify and bury it.”

I nodded my head. Moving past them, I walked into the alley. I could already see the small patch of dirt that had been dug up, where the body had been haphazardly buried. I grabbed a stick of incense from my pocket, and stabbed it into the ground. Pulling out my badge, I held it out in front of me and spoke to the spirit of the world. “Show me what happened here.”

As if on command, a small flame appeared on the tip of the incense stick, causing smoke to slowly fill up the alley. However, a moment later the smoke twisted, forming into definite shapes. I saw a human figure, a boy of no more than six or seven years old, sprawled out on the ground. The image was too blurry to make out any identifying features, so I allowed the spirit to progress further back. The further back it went, the more blurry the image became.

Soon, a second image was added into the scene, the figure of a grown man. By now, it was difficult to tell much about him, but I knew right away who he was. I grit my teeth as I looked at his narrow, tall frame. Even with the event being nearly two days old, there was still enough left to make out that much.

“Follow him.” I said, and the image of the boy disappeared. Instead, I saw the man made of smoke turn and walk out of the alley. I moved to follow, but the figure almost immediately vanished altogether.

The guards at the front of the alley had shocked faces when I walked out, clearly having seen the previous figure walking out and disappearing. I quietly put my badge away, shaking my head with a sigh. Even if the odds were slim, I had to hope that he would have slipped up and left a trail.

“W-was it him?” The talkative guard asked.

Rather than saying anything, I gave a brief nod before walking in the direction of the temple. It was him, alright. We called him the Mad Monk, but we didn’t know who he really was. All we knew was that he trained as a monk in some capacity, which was why he was so difficult for us to track. A normal killer, and I would have been able to follow his shadow right to his doorstep, but monks were tricky.

By the time I arrived at the temple, I found a white robed priest waiting atop the stone steps. As one of the most important buildings in any city, the temple was large, constructed by a team of druids, sculptors, and architects to create a dwelling worthy of the Goddess. I couldn’t help but shake my head at that idea. If only she would help with cases like this.

“You are the hunter, correct?” The priest asked as I approached. He was an elderly man, likely nearing the end of his life. Yet, from the way he held himself it could be seen he was having little difficulty moving. Likely, he was trained in a combat job as well.

“Yes, I’m Hunter Theol.” I answered, showing him my badge. There was no easier way to identify a hunter, because to carry one like it without the qualification was considered a crime throughout every kingdom. The Hunter’s Guild spared nobody that falsely claimed the name.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Call me Brother Haspel.” The priest said with a small bow. “I take it you’ve already been to the scene.” When I nodded, he shook his head regretfully. “I apologize for the criticism you must be receiving. I know that criminals like this are not as simple to capture as some would hope. Still, I wish you the best in hunting your prey.”

“I need to see the boy, brother.” I said, casting my eyes downwards. This was easily the part about my job I hated the most.

“Of course. Please, follow me.” He nodded briefly, before turning and guiding me into the temple, and towards the basement. “The boy’s face was disfigured, but we have managed to identify him. Once you are done, we will cleanse his body and hold a burial with his family.”

“The boy had family?” I asked, slightly surprised. Most of the Mad Monk’s victims were orphans, with very few having anyone that would miss them. At first, we had hoped that pattern would lead to a way to track him, but that proved to be in vain.

“Indeed. A mother and two elder brothers. She is waiting upstairs now. We thought it prudent to invite her over so that you can ask your questions and continue your hunt without wasting time.” He answered in a calm tone.

While it was nice that the church was going so far to help with the investigation, it was clear that they had another purpose. On the surface, the Church and the Hunter’s Guild would cooperate, because we both sought justice for those wronged. However, there were several points where our views contradicted one another. When the church went to such lengths to help a hunter, their meaning was clear. They wanted me out of town as quickly as possible.

But that was fine with me. The Mad Monk never stayed in the same city after dumping his victims. By now, he already had at least a day’s head start, so I needed to get moving as quickly as I could.

“We’re here.” Brother Haspel said as he arrived before a stone door. Carved into its surface was a picture of the Goddess crying, the mark of a mourning room. “I’ll be here if you need something.”

His meaning clear, I stepped through the door alone, entering a wide stone room. In the center, atop an altar, laid a lone figure covered in a white shroud. A flick of my wrist was enough to cause the shroud to fall away, a breeze appearing to carry it off the body. Of course, I had already prepared myself for what I’d be seeing.

Starting from his head, his hair was completely missing. There were scars along his scalp, forming a neat circle where flesh was folded over itself grotesquely. One of his eyes was missing, the other looking like half of it had been dug out. His nose was completely missing, a layer of flesh forming over the wound to look like it was completely healed over time. Finally, his lips were completely fused together.

Further down, his torso was even more of a mess. Flaps of skin were layered atop one another like pages from a book. Some of the layers showed healed burn marks, others showed scars from being cut. However, each layer had three small holes along the edge, in roughly the same places. Once I lifted all of the layers, I saw the last wound, where it had failed to heal over. His ribcage was still visible, several bones shattered.

Each of his arms and legs were slightly misshapen, bent at odd angles like the bones were broken. When I picked them up, I could feel that the bones had healed improperly, forcing him to keep his limbs like this. Bile rose up in my throat as I fought to keep it down.

This was the work of the Mad Monk. A killer with no measure of mercy or sanity. From the eighteen bodies he’s left behind... nineteen now, we have been able to figure out vaguely what he’s doing. And because of that, there is a bounty out on him in every civilized kingdom.

We don’t know why, but the Mad Monk moves from city to city, abducting children. He always takes them to an isolated area, where he begins to torture them. He cuts them open, breaks their bones, and somehow gets them to level up while doing so. Once the energy of the world sets in, their bodies begin healing improperly due to some reason, and he begins the process all over again.

Moving down, I picked up the cloth and put it back over the body. There was no chance of his spirit still being around to question, and even if it was, that was not something I wished to subject a young boy to. Not after everything he had already been through.

When I opened the door to leave, Brother Haspel was still waiting there. I wasn’t sure what he saw on my face, but it caused his expression to soften slightly. “Do you need a minute?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I shook my head in response. “I can’t afford to waste any more time. He’s already gone to the next town, and I need to figure out where.”

The priest nodded, and led me up towards the hall of prayer. Inside, I could see a crying woman sitting on one of the stone benches, facing the statue of the goddess. I didn’t have to ask to know what she was praying. Why would you let this happen? Why would you let a man rip a child away from his family and torture them? Why would you remain silent at this time?

Sadly, I knew the answer already. While Bihena strictly enforced her rules of war when violence escalated to a large scale, she left it to the people to deal with individuals. As the Goddess of Peace and Battle, she said to her priests that it was not her place to interfere in the matters of man, so long as they abided the rules of war.

Of course, this worked to eliminate suspects as well. If it were a soldier of any country who was committing these crimes, they would be violating her edicts, and she would no doubt intervene. Since that was not the case, it was clear that we were dealing with a civilian, albeit one the world would be better off without.