Witch Hunters

In the next second, a hair-thin strand of bright light fell from the moon, drifting toward her like dandelion seeds scattered by the wind.

Wu Yao's scalp tingled. She had only waved hello—what on earth was this?!

Her player instincts kicked in, and she turned to run without hesitation.

But with an Agility of 1, her movement speed was laughably slow. The strand of silver light was far faster than her. In the blink of an eye, it caught up and sank right into her forehead as she watched in dismay.

Wu Yao froze on the spot, clutching her forehead as she waited for the system notification. Was it poison? Health drain? Damage? Or something else?

【You have received the blessing of ???. All attributes +1.】

So it was just an Easter egg after all... Easter eggs were great! Easter eggs were wonderful!

Beaming, she opened her status bar to admire her suddenly doubled attributes. Even though they had only gone from 1 to 2, it was still an exciting change!

So waving at the Silver Moon actually came with perks. The development team sure knew how to hide Easter eggs. She smiled and shaped her hands into a heart at the moon. The Silver Moon still hung high in the sky, though its light seemed to soften slightly.

Wu Yao turned and continued on her way, her steps noticeably lighter. After all, her Agility had doubled.

The night wind blew from the north, carrying the scent of wild grass and a faint chill. The two moons in the sky behind her split her shadow into two—one dark, one faint.

A campfire crackled in the dark.

Marcus threw another piece of wood onto the fire. Sparks crackled and popped, sending a few orange-red embers drifting into the night.

“Let me tell you, kid, back in the day—” He took a swig of cheap ale, the liquid dribbling down his graying beard and dripping onto his heavily scuffed leather armor. “Witch hunters. Have you ever heard of them? Witch hunters. Back then, even kings had to host banquets for us!”

His voice was rough, and his calloused hands gestured in the air. “And I don't mean some cheap buffet thrown together at the last minute. I'm talking about a proper, formal feast! You've never seen anything like it, have you?”

Sitting on the other side of the campfire with his knees pulled to his chest, young Ayden muttered, “What do you mean, witch hunters? Aren't they all demon hunters?”

Marcus was too absorbed in his own words to hear the boy's mumbled reply.

“The long tables would stretch from one end of the hall to the other, and the silver candelabras were polished so bright you could see your reflection in them! Those noble lords had to dress in their finest attire and line both sides of the red carpet to welcome the witch hunters! Wherever they went, the local nobles had to tip their hats to them. Tip their hats!”

“Even those arrogant bastards from the Mage Association—” He let out a contemptuous laugh. “—had to stand up straight and respectfully address the captain of the witch hunters as 'Your Excellency'!”

Ayden was only seventeen years and four months old. His fingers mindlessly picked at the fabric of his trousers over his knees, his thin silhouette illuminated by the firelight.

He had passed the selection for the Tenth Demon Hunting Squad less than half a year ago. It was called a selection, but in truth, barely anyone had applied. There were ten squads in the Demon Hunting Association in total, and the Tenth Squad was responsible for verifying and pursuing information related to sorceresses. However, no sorceresses had been seen for nearly a century.

Over the years, the Tenth Squad's funding had been continuously slashed, and their equipment had never been updated. Young people with connections and background only scrambled to join the higher-ranked squads. No one wanted to join the Tenth Squad, which could be disbanded at any moment.

“Is that true?” Ayden also took a sip of ale, carefully licking a few stray drops from the mouth of the flask. He was a child of a poor family; if not for his raw strength, he wouldn't have even been able to get into this neglected Tenth Squad. “But now everyone says hunting monsters is the only way to make something of yourself, and hunting sorceresses is just a joke...”

“They don't know shit,” Marcus cursed, but there wasn't much heat in his voice. He was too old—so old that even his anger had burned out, leaving behind only exhaustion and weariness.

“The Demon Hunting Association was originally called the Witch Hunting Association, specifically tasked with hunting down witches. Who knows what those lords sitting in their high towers were thinking, changing the name from 'witches' to 'sorceresses.' Hmph, anyway, all those witches are dead now, so who cares what they're called.”

He tilted his head back for another swig. As the alcohol kicked in, he opened up completely. “But when my grandfather was young, things were different! Back then, there were real witches. Whenever a witch appeared, monsters thousands of miles away would run with their tails between their legs. Back then, the Silver Moon was red every single day! How could any of you remember...”

Ayden listened, utterly enthralled. He was about to ask for more details when he suddenly froze.

At some point, an extra person had appeared next to the campfire.

It was a young woman, currently squatting beside Ayden's crossbow bolts, her fingers gently stroking the finely crafted steel tips.

The firelight danced across her face, reflecting in her excessively bright eyes.

“This craftsmanship...” the woman marveled. Her fingertips traced the groove of the crossbow all the way to the trigger. “A compound bow, geared cocking mechanism... I didn't expect the technology in this game to have reached this level!”

Ayden opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound. Not knowing how to react, he instinctively looked at Marcus.

Marcus's flask was suspended in mid-air, half of its murky contents spilling out.

He blinked, making sure this woman wasn't a hallucination from his drinking.

Alcohol and old age had dulled his alertness. Thirty years ago, he would have drawn his sword instantly in this situation; twenty years ago, he would have barked a loud warning. But now, he merely let out a boozy hiccup, finding the whole scene absurdly amusing.

“Where did this wild girl come from...” he muttered, though he made no move to reach for the sword at his waist. “Don't you know there are wolves out here at night?”

The woman had no intention of answering. Her gaze fell upon the longsword hanging at Marcus's hip.

It was a standard-issue demon hunter longsword forged from high-grade steel, its blade etched with intricate runes—craftsmanship from the previous century.

It was a lethal weapon that had shed real blood.

Like a child who had just received a new toy, the woman pulled the sword right out of its scabbard and held it up to examine it. “This gear looks incredibly cool! Why didn't they give a set to players? The development team is so stingy!”

“Put that down!” Ayden finally snapped out of it. He had heard Marcus speak of this sword's history and held it in high regard; he couldn't stand seeing someone play with it so casually.

He lunged forward to snatch it back, but his hands grasped empty air. The woman dodged with effortless ease, causing him to stumble forward.

Marcus, however, burst into laughter, his chuckles sounding exceptionally harsh in the quiet forest. He slapped his thigh and shook with mirth. “Look at that, just look at that! Young people nowadays really are something else—can't even win back a sword. Girl, if you like it, it's yours!”

“Oh, it really is a nice item!” The woman, looking at something unseen, cradled the sword in her arms with a satisfied expression.

Ayden stamped his foot in frustration. “But isn't that standard-issue gear? Losing it will get us disciplined!”

“Disciplined?” Marcus scoffed, as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. “What kind of discipline can they give us over a piece of hundred-year-old junk? Dock my measly pay, or exile me to some even more remote, godforsaken place?”

He wiped away a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye, then suddenly lowered his voice. “Kid, do you know why we were sent here this time?”