READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 30: Chapter 30
Chapter 30: The Cannibal Case in Duén Hen
When people first see a witcher's cat-like eyes, they seem to always react in the same way. A gasp, followed by a quick lean back, readiness evident in their posture. After that initial shock, normal conversation can begin. The surrounding soldiers, possessing more courage than ordinary farmers, soon regained their composure after a brief commotion.
"A witcher?" Phillip spat on the ground with a grunt. "This world is getting crazier; all sorts of nonsense are showing up."
Lan didn't react to his rambling. "The world is as it is, sir. Let's discuss our suspicions."
"Hmm?" Phillip gestured for him to continue.
"I'm an outsider, Sergeant. I'm not exactly sure where Duén Hen is, but Crow's Perch, where Sir Vserad resides, is about three days' journey from here. Duén Hen at the very least is two and a half days from Crow's Perch." Lan held up his fingers to indicate the numbers to the surrounding soldiers.
"The news of the murder must have spread, and you would have dispatched your men to handle it, meaning there's a good chance that five days have passed since the incident. And we—" He moved his fingers back and forth between himself and Bernie.
The implication was clear: the timelines didn't align. This was a glaring inconsistency, but interestingly, Lan didn't sense any embarrassment from Phillip when this flaw was pointed out.
The man frowned, pondering for a moment, then suddenly looked at Lan and said, "A few days ago, a fellow witcher of yours was killed while on the run."
"I assisted in that fight as well."
Upon hearing this, Phillip nodded in acknowledgment. "Perfect. York is also in the village; let's see if he recognizes you. Let's go."
Without giving the two men a chance to speak further, the eleven cavalrymen surrounded them, leading them toward the village a hundred meters away.
On the way, Bernie seemed still shocked by the information he had just received. Lan walked beside him, unreservedly inquiring, "What's special about Duén Hen?"
Lan was well aware of the nature of Velen; he knew that in this world, losing one or two lives was hardly an issue. What mattered was the significance of Duén Hen. With eleven cavalrymen and the implication that there were more people in the village, the pursuit of Bordon paled in comparison. This highlighted the importance of the location.
"It's not an important town, just a crossroads. But it's where all the villages around here gather to worship the goddess Melitele. Which heartless bastard would commit such a vile act in that sacred place?!" Bernie muttered angrily, seemingly forgetting his injuries for the moment.
At the same time, Lan realized the gravity of the situation. How could one describe the worship of Melitele?
To put it simply, even a king's bodyguard, if he dared to lay a finger on a priestess in any temple of Melitele, would find himself hanging from a tree by dusk. And it wouldn't even be a calculated act of revenge; it would be the result of pure public outrage, forcing even the king to bow his head in acknowledgment. Melitele was the deity of every woman in the northern kingdoms, and her faith never mixed with politics, power, or the struggle for benefit. It simply spread the doctrine of love and peace.
But it was precisely this "non-contention" that gave Melitele's faith unparalleled influence. Every woman who believed in her held many roles. Daughter, mother, wife… even a bandit would want a wife. You want to harm the faith of Melitele? Then you better think about how you'll meet your end.
This was very different from the situation in Oreton, where the lord tightened security for personal gain during the race. A murder occurring in Duén Hen, a place of worship, would genuinely instill panic and anger across the Velen region.
"Not only that, kid." Phillip, still on horseback, took a swig from his copper flask.
"That's not just a simple murder." As if recalling something unspeakable, he swallowed the liquor and grimaced as he continued. "The victim's body had been partially eaten."
Lan's eyes narrowed slightly, while Bernie looked confused.
"Was it a beast or a monster that disturbed the scene? Damn it. In the past, everyone worshipped and prayed there; no monster ever dared to approach Duén Hen."
"A monster? Ha, if only it were just that." Phillip took another swig, a cold smile creeping onto his face.
"What do you mean… a human?" Bernie's eyes widened. "You're saying it was a person who ate them?! A murderer in that sacred place… eating people?!"
"Hey, we haven't seen traces of beasts or monsters nearby."
"You're just soldiers, not scouts or trackers. You're not experts; you can't make such assumptions!" Bernie immediately protested, not to absolve the culprit but to reject the notion that their sacred place had suffered such a grievous defilement. What surprised him even more was that Phillip seemed to agree with him.
"Right, we're good at killing, but we're certainly not experts on tracks and monsters."
At this point, Lan interjected. "So, Bernie, think about it: why do you think they're wasting time with us?"
Phillip chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's because of you, witcher. You're the expert on monsters. To be honest, we were only conducting routine interrogations of every suspicious individual, but the moment you looked up, I knew I'd struck gold."
"Let's discuss that later; I need to take care of my friend's wounds first."
The short distance was quickly traversed, and the group dismounted, entering a tavern where four more soldiers clad in Temerian armor sat at a table.
Lan recognized the halberd soldier he had seen a few days ago but chose not to speak. Instead, he ordered a glass of rye vodka. This strong liquor came in a different cup than the beer, a small one that could be comfortably held in the palm of his hand. He splashed it onto Bernie's hand, causing him to yelp in surprise.
"Another, please." Phillip shouted, "We'll need to clean out your wound, and you'll need another splash." The burly man waved his hand, and one of the soldiers shrugged and came over to help with the bandaging.
Only now did Lan turn to the halberd soldier, smiling as he nodded in recognition. "I thought that I could find you at Crow's Perch; I didn't expect to see you so soon."
York, the halberd soldier, ignored the odd looks from those around him and clinked his beer mug against Lan's empty glass, downing it in one go.
"Glug—ha! Who would have thought the world would turn upside down like this? I only returned to Crow's Perch and heard that someone dared to commit such deeds in Duén Hen."
After catching up with the witcher, York turned back to his commander. "Sergeant, this is the witcher I mentioned. A man of integrity and respect."
Phillip waved his hand, roughly demanding more drinks from the tavern keeper, while York leaned in, whispering earnestly to Lan. "You'd better not cross the sergeant's bad side; He just caught his wife cheating, and he butchered her lover and fed him to the dogs."
"Literally 'butchered and fed to the dogs'?"
"Literally."
Lan clicked his tongue slightly and ordered another glass of rye vodka, clinking it with York's.
"Thanks for the heads up; That's why at first I thought he was looking for a reason to take it out on us."
***
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