NOVEL NEXT Chapter 069 | The Howling Village
In the evergreen grasslands that stretched into the horizon, Damien observed the surrounding streak of looming mountains with intrigue. To think that amidst the cold northern fringes of the New World, there would be a hidden beauty veiled in its icy haze. It was poetic, to say the least.
"You look interested, Sir Damien." A stern voice sounded from ahead of him, stemming from the old, middle-aged man who stood as the Leader of the Wolfenguard. "I apologize for not introducing myself during our meeting. I am Beowulf of the Wolfenguard."
"The Wolfenguard protects the Howling Village situated within a veiled caldera amongst the desolate landscape of the northern fringes. When intruders enter our territory. We tend to be the ones handling them."
Damien narrowed his sable-tinted gaze at the introduction, but nodded in understanding. 'A caldera, huh? No wonder it looks familiar. The encircling mountains reminded me of a crater. But I didn't hear anything about a caldera in the northern fringes of the New World.'
The group traversed through a cobblestoned path leading towards the Howling Village. Along the way, Damien and Beowulf discussed the Abominable Cult and the abducted Lycanthropes.
"How long has the cult been operating in the northern fringes, Beowulf?" Damien questioned, intending to know about the history of the Abominable in the northern regions of the New World. Their influence wasn't to be underestimated, as even colonies were in their sphere.
"Since we settled in the caldera, those bastards had been lurking within the northern fringes like scurrying rats," Beowulf answered, but then added. "However, it all changed two years ago. They changed."
"The Abominable Cult wasn't secretive anymore, openly preaching to villages about the glory of their order and idol. Some even tried to poach our Howlers, though all of them failed."
"We thought those rat bastards had given up and stopped bothering us. But we were wrong when we discovered villages empty of their residents. According to our Howlers, it was a mass exodus during a blizzard."
"None of us knew where the people were heading, and we assumed that what humans did had nothing to do with us. But we underestimated the cult. Some of our Howlers were captured; their last active signs were a couple of days ago."
"I see... Do you know about the fact that the Abominable is worshipping an Aberrant?" Damien asked, earning the furrowed eyebrows of the old, middle-aged man. "Worshipping an Aberrant is impossible. No offense, it would already be astounding if they weren't eaten by it."
"What if the Aberrant was a corpse?" Hearing the words of the black-suited young man, Beowulf finally made a horrific realization. "Those bastards actually dared to make a corpse their idol of worship?"
"This is pure madness!"
"So, the Abominable is worshiping that Aberrant, huh?" Boris stepped into the conversation, walking beside the old, middle-aged man. "No wonder they have been bold this past year. Faith tends to make people daring."
"Or foolish." Beowulf interrupted the Leader of the Nightfang and kept his attention on Damien. "Are you aware what the Aberrant corpse is, Sir Damien? Has the White Devil explained to you why it resided in the north?"
Damien shook his head since he was wholly ignorant about the identity of the corpse. It didn't matter much to him since he needed to handle the Abominable Cult first before discovering the secrets of the northern fringes. But perhaps, this could be an opportunity.
"The White Devil wouldn't utter everything even to her subordinates. That is to be expected as the young ones must learn how to acquire information for themselves." Beowulf nodded in understanding, already standing in the banner of Miss Alastair.
"At any rate, the Aberrant corpse in the northern fringes was previously known as the Collosus. It was an unstoppable Aberrant that marched across the New World. Nothing could stop it. Villages, towns, and cities. All were trampled into rubble."
"But it all changed when the White Devil confronted the Collusus in the northern fringes of the New World. There, they thought for seven days and seven nights. It was devastating. Some rumors even suggested that this Caldera was formed during that fight."
"The Federation barely existed back then, and we, the Lycanthropes, were barely adapting to the woes of the New World. It was the White Devil that helped us and gave the Lycans a place to settle peacefully."
The history between the strongest of humanity and the Howling Village was intriguing. It made Damien wonder about how many stories of his boss's old feats were scattered across the New World.
Boris also added after Beowulf's words. "The White Devil is a legend in the New World. She's like a goddess walking amongst men. It would be an honor to see her once again. But one can only dream."
It didn't take long for the group to reach the outskirts of the Howling Village. In the distance was a settlement of Lycanthropes. It resembled an urban town flushed with the evergreen tint of nature. The structures were constructed from white marble, making them a grandiose sight.
Damien and Hecate watched with a tinge of astonishment. After all, it was the first time they saw architecture far different from their own. Beowulf and Boris stepped forward, one of them introducing their settlement to the two Jaegers.
"Welcome to the Howling Village."
Beowulf's voice attracted the attention of the residents, prompting them to gather near the entrance of the village. All of them saw the black-suited people, which made them anxious and cautious about the newly arrived individuals.
The sight made Boris wryly chuckle as he apologized on their behalf. "Sorry about that. You're the first visitors to our village since it was established a couple of years ago. Anyhow, I'll introduce both of you."
"Ehem... These two are the honored subordinates of the White Devil. Their names are Damien, the Aberrant, and Hecate, the vampire. Treat them with the same respect as we have to the one who brought us to this humble Caldera." The words of the Nightfang Leader resounded.
The residents of the Howling Village finally realized the identities of these visitors. Their behaviors immediately changed, which baffled Damien and Hecate for a second. Perhaps the Lycanthropes were much more adaptive than they had previously expected.
"How about I lead you to the Chieftain?" Boris suggested, while Beowulf interjected with a frown. "What do you mean by that? I should lead them since it is my duty as the Leader of the Wolfenguard. You should turn your attention to Nightfang. You have a mission to take on."
The middle-aged Lycan couldn't deny the words of Beowulf. He could only sigh in disappointment, walking away into the distance. Alice waved at him and chuckled at the saddening sight of her older brother.
"Take good care, Brother Boris." The little girl shouted, attracting the gaze of the Wolfenguard Leader. Beowulf frowned as he flicked her forehead. "Don't think I forgot about what you did, Little Alice."
"You ran away without warning and almost made us prepare for war against the Abominable Cult. The formation of the search party got suspended because of what you did." He reprimanded the little girl.
Alice lowered her head and pouted before apologizing. "I'm sorry, uncle. I won't ever run away from the Caldera ever again." She bowed while closing her eyelids. Her wolf tail and ears were drooping, making her appear like a wronged puppy.
Beowulf sighed to himself as Hecate chuckled at the sight. Damien also shook his head, realizing that, regardless of the differences in their species. Some things were the same.
"Alright, just don't do it ever again." The old, middle-aged man conceded and turned his gaze towards the two Jaegers. "I'll lead you to the Chieftain in the Lycan Estate situated in the middle of the Howling Village."
Damien and Hecate nodded as they followed Beowulf and the Wolfenguards to the estate of the Chieftain. They walked through the streets, the Lycanthrope residents watching the first visitors with a bit of interest.
They soon arrived at the front gate of the estate, where an elder was waiting for them. Before anyone could react at the sight, the elder vanished and appeared in front of the little girl. There was no hesitation as he flicked her forehead.
Alice stumbled onto the ground, holding her reddish forehead with tears about to fall from her eyes. She glared at her Father and puffed her cheeks. "Why does everyone keep bullying me?"
"It is because you did something wrong and must be punished for it. Why did you run away without warning, Alice? You know how tense these past few days have become." The Chieftain shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked at the two Jaegers behind his daughter and spoke.
"The two of you must be her subordinates? To be expected from the White Devil. It was beyond thought for her to tame an Aberrant and a vampire to become the first generation of her organization. But the minds of the strongest are beyond the comprehension of normal creatures."
Damien nodded and stepped forward. "You should already know our names since we have introduced ourselves three times since meeting Little Alice. Our motive for visiting the Howling Village should be something you are already aware of."
He didn't hesitate and decided to be straightforward with the elder. The Chieftain gazed upon him and promptly chuckled. "You're bold, young Aberrant. But you're correct. Since our descent into the New World, I have been ensuring that I won't be ignorant of the vast reality."
"You're here to find clues about the Abominable Cult and even get our assistance in handling them." The elder grinned at the two Jaegers and continued. "You're in the right place, then."