Capítulo 6: The Murder Of Crows

Three hours passed in a blur of colors and fabrics, and El Ritch sat as still as he could, resigned to the ordeal. His limbs ached from the constant dressing and undressing, his skin prickling as soft silks and rougher wools alike slid over it. He had long since stopped caring about the garments themselves, though Daphne's delight was boundless.

"He's too precious," she said with a dramatic sigh, nibbling on a croissant as though this were the greatest tragedy to befall her. "Every dress on him is perfect. What shall I do, Adeline? Truly, what shall I ever do?"

The boy had been offered a croissant first, but he declined with a shake of his head. The thought of eating made his stomach twist, heavy as he was with exhaustion.

At last, they departed, workers following behind them laden with bundles of the boy's new clothing. Daphne, standing at the doorway of her shop, waved them off with a playful grin.

"You won't have me pay a coin for it, truly you wish that?"

"Only if you promise to send little El Ritch here every weekend," Daphne replied, winking.

Adeline chuckled and waved her hand. "We'll see."

They left the shop, Adeline turning to the workers. "Knock on the door when you arrive, and the clothes will be collected. You're welcome to rest before heading back."

The workers nodded, hefting the bundles with ease as they turned toward Adeline's house.

El Ritch trudged along beside her, his body crying out for sleep. "Are we going somewhere else?" he asked, though his voice carried the weight of resignation.

"We are," Adeline replied lightly, though her pace slowed to match his. "But don't worry—it's very close to home. You'll have your bed soon enough."

He glanced up at her, startled. "You… you knew?"

Adeline laughed softly. "I'm a doctor, little one. I would be a fool not to notice my patient's health. Why else would I let her fuss over you for three hours when you nearly toppled over, trying to nap where you stood? This was your punishment for staying awake the whole night, Curiosity kills the cat-remember it."

His face turned bright red, his cheeks burning like fire. He looked down at his feet, mortified, but she only chuckled again.

The cobbled streets of their neighborhood stretched ahead, quieter than the busier parts of the city. El Ritch noticed the people this time—older folk, mostly, though there were some younger faces here and there. It wasn't a bustling throng, but neither was it barren. He wondered why that struck him as odd.

"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

She smiled down at him, her answer coming with ease. "To meet the crows."

The hall was unlike anything El Ritch had seen before, teeming with movement, voices layered over one another in an unintelligible cacophony. It was the busiest place in the city, and the crowd seemed to bend and flow like a living river around them. A sharp voice cut through the noise as they were greeted.

"How may we be of your service?"

Adeline smiled and produced a parchment from her satchel. "Actually, today, I am to be of your service."

A ripple of recognition passed through the group, and their tone shifted. "'The Stalking Murder' is glad to make your acquaintance again, Lady Adeline. Please, follow us."

El Ritch clung to Adeline's hand as they were led away from the main hall. His exhaustion ebbed, replaced by a prickling curiosity and a growing excitement he couldn't quite suppress. The room they entered was a stark contrast to the bustling hall—a small space, far quieter, its walls adorned with scrolls, maps, and peculiar artifacts.

Seated in a wheeled chair was a woman whose presence commanded attention despite her frailty. El Ritch noticed immediately that she could not move her legs, yet her sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Lady Adeline," the woman said, bowing her head slightly.

"Lady Belga," Adeline replied with equal deference, though her smile was warmer.

They exchanged formalities briefly, Belga's tone measured and calm. "How good it is to see you before the appointed time. I trust the research went well."

Adeline's smile faltered, her hand tightening gently on El Ritch's shoulder. "Yes… about that." With a sigh, she stepped forward, gently guiding El Ritch into view.

Belga tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face. "Oh, you and—"

"No!" Adeline interrupted sharply, holding up her hand. She took a deep breath before explaining the events of the village, her voice steady but laced with something heavier—unease, perhaps.

Belga listened in silence, her expression unchanging, and when Adeline finished, she simply said, "Okay."

El Ritch stared at her, amazed by her lack of reaction of hearing tales of such beasts, that were-most possibly real. There was a stillness about her, a quietness that seemed unshakable.

"You always manage to be at the heart of things," Belga murmured, reaching for the parchment Adeline had handed her. She scanned it with sharp eyes, her lips tightening as she read. When she finished, she let out a weary sigh, pressing her fingers to her temples.

"These results need to be certain. Beasts of such level…"

Adeline cut in, her tone brisk. "A whole village was destroyed. The only footprints we found were four-legged, and the energy—"

El Ritch's chest tightened suddenly, a sickening wave of nausea rolling through him. His vision blurred, and a sharp pain lanced through his skull. Remembering something that shouldn't be remembered.

[ Monster within me, I do not fear you.

For within me is the same impulse,

That runs within you.

If you fear, Your claws and teeth will chip oh-so-easily.

If you feel worthless,

I'd simply embrace you within my arms.

Yes, I am the human within you,

Coward and timid. ]

The world shifted.

Adeline's voice reached him faintly, as though from a great distance.

"-Ritch!-"

"-Something is happening to him—"

"-Help-"

Then the air went still, and darkness enveloped them all.

Adeline knelt, pulling El Ritch into her arms, her voice trembling with an urgency he had never heard before. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, though his breaths came in short, shallow gasps.

Belga's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "A Sanctuary. This is a Sanctuary."

Adeline glanced around, her arms still wrapped protectively around the boy. "But how? There's no anchor. Someone has to be here to deploy it!"

The dark expanse stretched endlessly in every direction, its oppressive weight bearing down on them. At its center, a form began to take shape.

It was grotesque, a towering amalgamation of human faces, their hollow eyes and mouths gaping in silent agony. The beast's body was grotesquely misshapen, a mass of flesh that crawled and pulsed as if alive. Four powerful legs carried it forward, each step echoing in the vast emptiness.

Adeline's grip on El Ritch tightened, her voice a fierce whisper. "Stay close. Nothing will happen to you, I promise."

But as the creature's faces turned toward them, one by one, the boy could feel the pull of something deep within—a connection he could not explain, and a dread he could not escape. It wasn't the same amalgamation from the past, he knew, but still it felt eerily familiar.

The moment Adeline shouted, "Belga!" the air seemed to hum with tension. Belga's response was immediate. "Yes!"

Adeline released her grip on El Ritch, her hands moving in swift, deliberate gestures. Her left hand clenched into a fist while her right formed a circle, her fingers coming together in a precise motion. A glowing sigil appeared beneath her feet, a simple circle that shimmered like molten gold. As the lines etched themselves into the dark expanse, the boy caught glimpses of the stone floor of the hall they had left behind—the hall of The Stalking Murder.

But it wasn't enough.

The amalgamation let out a guttural sound, the sheer weight of its presence crushing the circle's glow into nothingness. The ground trembled beneath El Ritch as he collapsed, the pressure bearing down on him like an unseen hand, forcing the air from his lungs.

"I am… I am so sorry," Adeline's voice cracked, trembling with despair. "For being incompetent—"

Belga's voice cut through the oppressive silence, strained yet sharp. "A beast of Unauthorized grade." Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her words clipped as if the air itself fought against her. "Where… where did it even come from—"

The words froze in her throat as reality itself seemed to rupture.

A sickening crack, then another. The sound of bursting flesh and splintering bone filled the Sanctuary as their heads exploded, one after the other—Adeline's, Belga's, and El Ritch's. The crimson spray painted the void in grotesque arcs of blood, muscle, and bone, their bodies crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

And then…

"{Sanctuary Deployment: Amor Fati}."

The words rang out like a bell, resonating in the hollow darkness. Time reversed itself with a violent lurch. Blood flowed backward, bone reassembled, and flesh knitted itself whole again. Within moments, they stood as they had been, unharmed but shaken.

Before them stood a figure—Aldric. His hand rested casually on the hilt of his blade, the lower half of his face visible beneath his hood. "Are you alright?" His voice was steady, as though he hadn't just torn them from the jaws of annihilation.

Adeline's breath caught, but she nodded. "Yes. Thank you… for saving him. And Belga." Her voice was soft.

Aldric let out a heavy sigh, shrugging as if brushing off her thanks. "Well, that's settled, then." His tone was indifferent, but his actions spoke otherwise. He glanced toward the swirling darkness of the Sanctuary, its edges shimmering with unstable energy. "Now, get out."

In an instant, Adeline, Belga, and El Ritch were expelled from the Sanctuary, thrown unceremoniously onto the stone floor of the hall. El Ritch scrambled upright, his wide eyes fixed on the shrinking sphere of darkness where Aldric remained.

"Will Mr. Aldric be fine on his own?" he asked, his voice quivering with worry.

Adeline knelt beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Aldric may be many things," she said, her voice steady now, "but he has one certainty. In time, you'll come to understand it too—he's the strongest Hunter."

Before their eyes, the once-endless void of the Sanctuary compressed, folding into itself until it was no larger than a table and chair. The black sphere, devoid of light, sound, or substance, trembled violently. Cracks spread across its surface, and with a deafening roar, it shattered.

Out stepped Aldric, steam rising from his body like smoke from a quenched blade. His movements were calm, almost nonchalant, as he stretched and cracked his neck. "That beast sure was strong," he remarked, his voice carrying a tinge of amusement.

Not a scratch marred his form. He stood there, whole and unbothered, as though he had merely stepped out for a stroll.