Horde’s guess that they would be able to enter as long as they were conscious of it proved exactly right.
Berserk’s gaze slowly moved deeper into the unfamiliar street.
“The smell of blood……!”
“Urgh.”
“A massacre in the middle of the city. Impressive that they even thought to do something like this.”
“Well, they’re demons, ain’t they?”
The people who had followed them covered their mouths or retched at the stench of blood assaulting their noses.
The only exceptions were Berserk and Mistilteinn.
The two naturally took the lead, spinning their weapons in their hands.
“Still, this sure is something. Never thought I’d actually get to see the expression ‘rivers of blood’ become reality.”
“A river?”
“…Fine. I’ll correct that to a stream.”
Berserk snorted at Mistilteinn’s joke and continued forward.
Squish. Squish.
With every step, the blood pooled between the paving stones clung to the soles of her leather shoes.
Despite the freezing air, the blood had not frozen.
“The blood isn’t frozen.”
“…Most likely because it belonged to people offered as sacrifices.”
The young man who had followed them as an apprentice Inquisitor supplied the explanation.
His complexion did not look particularly good either, but at least he had a stronger stomach than the other mercenaries.
Even if only an apprentice, he looked the part of an Inquisitor.
“Sacrifices. I expected them to gather the madmen and launch an assault on either the Temple or the Magic Tower, but apparently they had no particular…