Stepping inside the cabin and feeling the cold subside, Michael involuntarily relaxed.

Looking around the well-lit room, he shook his head and tried again.

"Is anyone here? My apologies for coming in, but it's a matter of great importance."

There was no answer, but Michael still walked further in. The room looked exactly as you would expect from a cabin in the middle of the wilderness, with only one chair and a small table near the door and the fireplace burning strong.

There seemed to be something boiling on a pot on top of the burning fire, while some bowls and other strange stuff were on the table.

"Damn! Whatever is being boiled smells awful."

The left side of the room, with the table for food and the fireplace, seemed designed as a kitchen, while the other half appeared to be a place of knowledge.

Three bookshelves served as small libraries filled with strange antique books and a small study table next to the corner of the cabin, previously hidden by the opened door.

Michael closed the door and curiously inspected the parchments on the study, only to realize he couldn't understand anything.

There was also a mortar and pestle on the table, hinting at the possibility of this Hermit being a scholar/herbologist.

"The monk called him a person that held 'dark knowledge,' so it makes me not want to know what the hell is in that pot over the fire. Still, he can answer many of my questions with these books around. I'm hoping that Iosef didn't just hype him up as a holder of forbidden knowledge due to his fanaticism."

Being transmigrated into the Sanctuary, Michael remembered some knowledge of the game's lore, but it was filled with holes. The fact that he didn't play Diablo 2 and 3 was even worse, as many essential things certainly happened through those storylines.

Not to mention that even Diablo 1's story was quite blurry in his mind.

"That's why it's imperative to understand the past. That way, I can have an idea of exactly who Lilith and Inarius are before I decide on a side to pick. I could try to stay on the fence and help both sides, but playing with fire is not advisable when both 'creators' of this world could become your enemy if you move stupidly..."

From the little knowledge he learned through Martel, he could tell that even if the cabin is empty now, judging by the burning fire, the boiling kettle pot, the food on the table, and the freshly crushed herbs in the mortar... the Hermit left recently and should return soon.

Looking at the system's prompt to investigate and search the room, Michael focused on the three bookshelves.

Surprisingly, one of them didn't have books but rather jars of all kinds with weird stuff inside.

"Herbs, mushrooms... and those are organs. They look too small to be human organs, though, so I guess that's a relief."

Taking some distance from the weird bookshelf, he pondered momentarily and looked around the room with a strange gaze.

Seeing the small bookshelf close to the study and the large one covering over half of the wooden wall, something finally clicked.

"The cabin did seem bigger from the outside. That means there is at least another room since there's no bed to sleep in here. That can only mean... a hidden mechanism."

Looking at the large bookshelf, he went into Sherlock mode and inspected the books closely. Unfortunately, even after he pulled and put back all the books on the shelves, nothing happened.

Frustrated, he looked at the bottom of the shelf for marks on the floor.

"Yup, there are scratches on the wood underneath. That means that this bookshelf can be moved."

Grabbing its sides, he pushed the bookshelf toward the wall, but it didn't budge. Then, he pulled, but nothing happened.

It couldn't be moved toward the left, so he could only push toward the right.

Finally, he got lucky and saw a slight opening into a dimly lit room.

"Hehe! What are you hiding back here?"

The room had some small lamps, and some candles were still lit. A bed was also by the entrance, making Michael admire the hidden room's planning.

If someone had invaded the cabin, he would have had plenty of time to prepare and ambush the interlopers. Just thinking of how he pushed the bookshelf like a dumbass made him sweat.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I didn't want the Skeletons to damage the books, but I inadvertently exposed myself to quite a dangerous situation in doing so... Luckily, the owner is out."

Looking around the room, there were more books, more chests filled with objects and books, and a table filled with blood and a pair of horns in the middle made him blank out.

"Yup...nothing out of the fucking ordinary. Goddamn! Who the hell butcher animals in their bedroom!? There's a fucking puddle of blood under the table and plenty of fresh animal organs on it."

Already considering walking the fuck away, Michael's attention was drawn to the pair of horns. Seeing them and realizing where he encountered them before, he shuddered.

When backing away, he knocked over a mound of books, and a small note with legible words attracted his attention.

The title was 'Specimen Notes.'

[Short fangs. Young. Freshly turned. An easy kill. Further south than the others. They are spreading.]

Looking next to the table at the bloodied and rusted trap, he got a general idea of how the Hermit caught this creature.

Still, the Hermit was researching the corrupted creatures and was apparently aware of the demonization.

"It does seem I'll get plenty of answers here. If I don't end up on this table myself..."

Looking again at the strange skull and the long horns attached to it, Michael couldn't help but remember the Fallen he encountered in the ruins.

From the looks of it, this Hermit used a fucking bear trap to catch one and used it to further his research.

Unbeknownst to Michael, a man was already returning to the cabin. He already had noticed the fresh sets of footprints and concluded that a Necromancer Wanderer was visiting.

[Judging from the other four sets, I'd say it's a low-level one. Hmpf! Quite rude to enter someone's home uninvited, though.](?)

The man kept walking as the pole-axe in his hands dripped with blood on the pure-white snow. On his right shoulder, he carried the corpse of a creature, slowly making his way toward the cabin.

Gently opening the door, he couldn't help but notice the open 'bedroom door' and furrowed his brows in displeasure.

Four Skeleton Warriors were sitting guard, looking directly at him with their soulless eyes.

Michael heard the footsteps and the tap of a cane on the floor meant to announce someone's presence. Gulping and realizing that the cabin's owner was probably back, he began formulating the most honest apology he could for ransacking the man's home.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the bedroom and back into the main room, where he saw the shadow of a man holding a huge-ass axe with two heads, one of which looked horned.

Almost cursing in fear, he was preparing to order his minions to attack when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

[If you were going to trespass into my home, rifle through my things...](?)

Hearing the low and raspy voice, Michael was already starting to feel both bad and in danger. He couldn't attack the man since he was at fault in this situation, but he wouldn't just present his neck to be chopped off, either.

The man walked inside and toward him.

[...then at least have the decency to join me for supper. I'm bloody hungry.](?)

Caught off guard, Michael's mouth dropped open, and he watched as the old man, probably around 50, dropped the hunted stag on his shoulders.

Judging from the carcass's length, it should weigh at least 50-60kg, but the man was hauling it as if it were nothing.

Dropping the stag on the floor and grinning at the intruder, the man walked to a corner where he 'deposited' his bloody weapon and grabbed a bucket.

He washed his hands of blood and grime using the water inside, ignoring the dumbfounded trespasser.

Smelling the strange concoction in the kettle, he nodded and grabbed it with a pair of pliers, pouring it into two horns that served as cups.

Walking to the study table, he grabbed the mortar, poured some of the freshly ground ingredients into the horns, and then shook them vigorously.

[Here, something to drink while I heat some supper. This stag would be a proper welcome to a Wanderer such as yourself, but it hasn't been processed yet. Plus, its meat is not safe to be eaten.](?)

Looking at the offered 'glass,' he took it and curiously sniffed it. The smell changed entirely from a disgusting aroma to a somewhat pleasant chamomile fragrance.

Seeing the man drink from his in a sign of good faith, Michael pondered and grabbed one of Martel's Antidote vials from his inventory.

"Hope you don't mind the discourtesy, but I've been through some weird shit lately, and my trust toward others is at an all-time low."

[No offense taken. Hmm? Wait a second... did you come from Nevesk?](?)

"Yeah..."

[You're probably a Wanderer with a Class seeing how you can pull things out of nowhere. Did you visit Nevesk for the ruins?](?)

"Mhm... It was a Dungeon."

[Dungeon? *Tsk* No wonder... How is the village? Are the people there alive? I can't see many of them surviving with a bloody Dungeon spitting corruption and demons out.](?)

"...the entire village is dead and burning."

[What!?](?)

Downing the Antidote vial and taking a big gulp of the tea/alcohol brew, Michael looked at the man and shook his head.

"The name is Michael. I got a Quest to investigate the ruins and Nevesk. After finding the town, the villagers directed me toward the ruins and found the Dungeon. I saw many undead and lots of demons inside and had to fight a goddamn demon Baron called X'Fal at the end to escape with my life. When I thought the shitstorm was done, the villagers poisoned me and tried to skin me alive after feeding me some blood petals."

[Blood petals, you say? Interesting. The name is Lorath. How did you get away?](Lorath)

"A group of friends passed through Nevesk about a week or so ago and said the town was strange. One of them handed me the antidote vials, so I drank one for good measure before returning to the village."

[An intelligent choice.](Lorath)

"Yeah... those... lunatics poisoned and brought me into a warehouse filled with skinned human corpses. Another victim, a Monk of the Cathedral of Light, thought I was out cold and came to rescue me. With his help, we killed the remaining crazed ones and got away with our lives. His name is Iosef."

[Iosef... Yes, I know the bloody fool. Knowing him, he probably got poisoned as well, didn't he?](Lorath)

"Indeed. Luckily, we escaped with our lives, but... that's only the start of the problem."

[The blood petals?](Lorath)

"You seem to know something... Yeah. Since they fed me those damned things before trying to sacrifice me to someone called 'Mother,' it somehow brought about a vision once we searched the local chapel. I saw... a horned woman convincing the villagers to throw away their inhibitions during the sermon of the town priest. It didn't end well for the poor man."

[That's quite the story.](Lorath)

Lorath gestured for him to sit on the table, and Michael acquiesced. Looking at the Hermit's face, he seemed to be pondering something but wasn't too surprised, unlike the monk Iosef.

"I wish it weren't true, but it is. This night did wonders for my trust in others..."

Seeing the Hermit calmly grabbing a piece of meat and a piece of bread from one of the bowls near the fireplace, Michael remembered the food the villagers gave him and felt his stomach churn.

He was hungry since he vomited everything alongside the blood petals, but he couldn't help but be wary of another poisoning session. Lorath handed him the bowl and a larger piece of bread, saying nothing.

Unable to help himself, Michael bit into the fragrant meat and was surprised at the condiments used. It tasted quite delicious.

"Why did I have that vision?"

[Probably thanks to those friendly villagers. They fed you the blood of Lilith.](Lorath)

Michael considered it for a moment but quickly shook his head inside. That wouldn't explain his first vision while transmigrating into this world. He wasn't fed anything at that point, but he kept quiet.

"The blood of a demon, judging by my vision."

[Haha! Not just any demon. The Daughter of Hatred. The Mother of the Sanctuary. She was banished ages ago... but this world is her creation *sigh*](Lorath)

Michael was positively surprised to hear the man willing to speak of these otherwise 'forbidden' things, making him quite happy with that fanatic Iosef.

'It looks like I'll be able to dig lots of answers from this man.'