Chapter 66 – The Cabin
From behind the tree trunk, three heads slowly emerged.
At first glance, their faces were human.
But when paired with those grotesque, crawling arms… it was hard to imagine what sort of body could be hiding behind the bark.
A moment later, Gideon had his answer.
The creatures—"multi-limbed humans," as he temporarily named them—skittered into view, climbing out sideways from behind the tree. Their movements were unnervingly fast, surging toward him and Sadie.
Though clothed in tattered human garments, their posture and gait resembled nothing human—more insect than man.
Sadie did not retreat. Instead, she rushed forward, closing the distance.
Only by taking the initiative could she hope to gain the advantage.
Five meters.
Three meters.
One meter.
When the abomination loomed almost face-to-face, Sadie pressed the muzzle of her revolver against its head—
Bang! Bang!
Twin shots shattered the forest silence.
The creature staggered, stunned but not yet fallen. Sadie did not hesitate. With her free hand she drew the dagger strapped to her thigh and drove it hard into the thing's spine, then wrenched downward through the joints of its limbs.
A demon hunter's strikes were never wasted. Every blow had to pierce a vital point.
The monster convulsed, clawed the earth a few times, and went limp.
When Sadie yanked her blade free, she frowned. The once-polished steel was pitted and corroded.
Its blood was acidic.
She turned, scanning for the other two creatures—only to find them lunging straight at the priest.
What she saw next left her stunned.
Gideon hadn't moved an inch.
The monsters' grotesque tongues—slick, worm-like organs—lashed toward his exposed skin.
But the instant they crossed into his presence, they shriveled. Holy radiance seared them, reducing the tendrils to ash. Both beasts howled in pain, reeling back.
So they're quick and disturbing to look at, but their attacks are simple, Gideon thought.
While Sadie had charged ahead, he'd quietly placed a ring of consecrated relics around them—artifacts steeped in twenty years of holy power. He'd even prepared escape routes.
But it seemed the monsters were weaker than expected.
Relaxing, he stooped to pick up a branch, then pressed it against one of the creature's chests. With clinical curiosity, he tried to peel back its tattered shirt to see how it was put together—
Only for the other monster to suddenly shield its companion, batting the stick aside.
Gideon's eyes narrowed in surprise.
"…It's protecting it?"
Looking closer, he realized the one pinned beneath his branch had the face of a young woman. The defender—a blond man.
Gideon froze.
What is this? A lovers' quarrel… between monsters?
His gaze flicked to the corpse Sadie had slain earlier—it bore the face of a man as well.
"…So, a triangle? Was I the third wheel?"
For the first time, he almost felt like an intruder interrupting some twisted romance.
"My apologies for ruining your hunt," Gideon murmured, hand slipping into his pocket.
"But as the saying goes—public displays of affection must be punished."
He uncorked a vial of consecrated water, aged twenty years, and poured it over them.
The monsters shrieked as the liquid seared their flesh, purifying every inch of their corrupted bodies. Only once he was sure nothing remained did Gideon stop.
"What on earth were you muttering just now?" Sadie asked, approaching.
Even having witnessed his power once before, she couldn't help being shocked again.
"Nothing," Gideon replied calmly. "Just prayers for the exorcism."
Pocketing the relics, he activated his Ethereal Sight. Around them, in the depths of the woods, he sensed more pockets of malice. These three were far from the only ones.
He unwound the chain of a miniature crucifix and wrapped one end tight around his arm, ready to fight at any moment.
With that interruption dealt with, the two pressed deeper into the forest.
At intervals, Gideon would pause—sometimes to change direction, sometimes to backtrack entirely.
Sadie grew increasingly confused, until she realized: every time they altered their course, soon after she would sense malice stirring along the path they had avoided.
He wasn't wandering. He was avoiding danger before it arose.
His awareness is this sharp?
Sadie prided herself on her own Vision. She could always detect enemies the moment they struck. But this priest… he moved before the threat even unfolded.
So this is the legacy of the Church… she thought, envy gnawing at her.
At last, they reached a clearing in the woods.
For the first time, Gideon's expression grew truly solemn.
Sadie followed his gaze.
There, standing silently in the clearing, was a small wooden cabin.
Gideon silently stepped back a few paces, disappearing into the brush.
From the safety of the thicket, he carefully surveyed the cabin's surroundings.
There was no fence, only an open yard. Two wooden poles stood planted in the earth with a rope strung between them.
Moments later, the cabin door creaked open. An old woman shuffled out, her steps unsteady with age. She looked to be sixty, perhaps seventy, her body already bowing beneath the weight of years.
In her arms she carried a wooden basin filled with damp clothing. Slowly, she walked to the rope and began hanging the garments out to dry.
The scene was ordinary, even mundane—the simple routine of a peasant housewife.
And yet, that very normality made it feel more unsettling.
What gnawed at Gideon was not what he saw, but what he didn't sense.
No trace of malice lingered near the cabin.
That left only two possibilities:
First, the old woman was a normal human, entirely harmless.
Second—she was something far darker, a fiend cloaked so deeply that even his perception could not pierce her veil.
Just as Gideon prepared to retreat quietly, the woman's voice startled him.
"You too… have you come looking for someone?"
Gideon's brows arched in surprise.
---
"Thank you."
Sadie accepted the steaming cup of tea the old woman offered.
Gideon, however, only smiled politely and gestured for the cup to be set on the table instead.
After spotting them, the woman had welcomed them into her home. Gideon had wanted to refuse, but Sadie stepped forward without hesitation.
She felt no malice from the old woman.
Seeing that the huntress was unharmed, Gideon followed, though not without caution—outside, he had discreetly left a series of protective wards, just in case.
During their stay, he tested her in subtle ways, probing for the telltale cracks of deceit. Yet each test ended the same: she was human. Ordinary.
At last, the woman shared her story.
Her name was Giselle Peyton, once a washerwoman in a factory not far from here. Her son, Simon, had vanished years ago in this very forest.
Giselle had abandoned her work and moved into the woods to search for him. When she failed to find any trace, she stayed. For years, she waited.
Friends had begged her to leave, but she feared that the moment she gave up, her son might return—and she would not be there.
So she remained.
Sadie listened, then opened her mouth to ask about Sasha—only for Gideon to cut in first.
"Madam Peyton, how do you manage food out here?"
"Oh," she said lightly, "this forest provides. I often find injured rabbits or squirrels. I bring them home when I can."
She pointed to the window. A half-dressed rabbit carcass hung from a hook.
Gideon's eyes narrowed.
"And you've never feared wolves?" he pressed.
The old woman patted her chest, smiling faintly. "Of course I've been afraid. But there are no great beasts in this wood, only small ones. I've been fortunate."
Without another word, Gideon rose and drew a vial of holy water from his coat.
"I'm grateful for your hospitality," he said smoothly. "My homeland is renowned for its tea, and I know a rare method of brewing it. Would you permit me the use of your teapot?"
His gaze lingered on her face, sharp and watchful. If she betrayed even a hint of falsehood, he would strike at once.
Instead, Giselle's expression brightened with delight.
"Oh, truly? What luck! Please, by all means—use whatever you need. I would be honored to taste it."
Gideon's lips curled in a faint smile as he lifted the teapot.
---
Half an hour later, they bid her farewell.
Giselle had no knowledge of Sasha.
Sadie's eyes dimmed with disappointment.
But Gideon's expression was unreadable.
As they stepped back into the forest, he murmured:
"We're not finished here. Next, we meet not Giselle herself… but the spirit that stands behind her."
Sadie turned to him, frowning in confusion.