Unexpected Visitors

A thick blanket of clouds coming from the north gradually blocked out the sun as a cold front moved in. The gusts of wind it produced were hardly slowed by the trees, which had lost most of their leaves.

Meanwhile, young Klein was still wailing in his father’s arms, while the latter stared at his wife in disbelief.

“What?! Are you absolutely sure?”

Norea, still exhausted, simply nodded in agreement.

“The Church? What are they talking about? That didn’t exist in the game!” thought Haruto.

Judging by the look on the woman’s face, he realized this didn’t bode well. Her eyes were red, and terror was written all over her face. This wasn’t ordinary fear. It was the dread of someone who knew the threat.

The young man moved instinctively.

“Aristide, take care of Norea. I’ll bring Klein safely back home, then I’ll wait for you at the forge.”

The farmer snapped out of his stunned silence, as if he’d just been struck by a electricity.

He looked in the direction from which Norea had come, then turned to Haruto before giving a slight nod.

“Do you swear nothing will happen to him?”

“I swear,” Haruto replied earnestly.

Aristide immediately rushed over to his wife, leaving his son with the young man. Haruto bent down to the boy’s level, not quite sure how to talk to him. Luckily, the child had stopped crying, although his eyes were swollen and teary.

Haruto took a deep breath, forced a smile, then spoke as gently as he could.

“Klein… I know you got really scared,” he began, pausing briefly to choose his words carefully. “But everything’s okay. However, Dad has to take care of Mom… So, would you like to come home with me?”

The child stood there, still sniffling, but finally agreed. He reached out with his little hands and grabbed one of Haruto’s tightly.

“Good. Let’s get going then.”

The walk back went smoothly, and Klein was exceptionally well behaved for his age. Haruto told him a short story to keep him entertained.

Although it was a short trip, the boy was completely exhausted. He fell asleep the instant he crawled onto the straw mattress.

Having kept his promise, Haruto immediately headed for Bhelgor’s shop.

When he opened the heavy wooden door, the familiar smell of coal and overheated metal washed over him. Flames roared in the heart of the forge as the craftsman hammered a piece of metal on the anvil.

When Bhelgor turned his head toward Haruto, he immediately knew something was wrong.

“A problem?”

“I don’t know how serious the situation is yet, but Norea seemed panicked,” the young man began.

The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, still working the glowing metal.

“Did she lose her kid again?”

“No… Apparently, a Church patrol was spotted near Cody’s farm.”

A loud crash suddenly echoed through the shop, startling Haruto. Bhelgor’s hammer lay on the stone floor, and the man’s face turned pale. He stood there, stiff as a statue, his eyes fixed on Haruto.

“Are you kidding me?”

Haruto was taken aback by the blacksmith’s outburst.

“Damn it! Can someone explain to me…”

The workshop door flung open, cutting Haruto off. A rush of cool air swept in, and Aristide burst into the room. The two men turned to the farmer, their looks full of questioning.

“Is your wife okay, Aristide?” asked Bhelgor.

“She’s still shaken up… but she should be fine,” he replied, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

Haruto felt relieved, especially considering her pregnant state. However, the tension was still thick in the air, and he needed to understand.

“Is someone finally going to explain this to me? Shit! Everyone’s panicking, and I still don’t know anything about this damn Church!”

Bhelgor opened his mouth to reply, but a loud thud cut him off. The three men exchanged worried looks.

Then a second impact, this time against one of the shop’s walls, caused the hanging tools to rattle.

“That… that’s not normal,” Aristide whispered.

Screams then rang out from outside, followed by panicked voices and orders being shouted.

They moved quickly toward the door. The blacksmith pushed it open slowly, letting daylight flood the room.

“Holy fuck,” Bhelgor blurted out.

The village was plunged into utter chaos. About twenty soldiers surrounded the central well, accompanied by two horse-drawn carts. Three men wore thick armor with plates that shimmered like silver. Patches of chainmail were visible between the gaps.

Their gear was completed with an immaculate white cloak bearing an esoteric symbol in blue and gold. It was an equilateral triangle, with one vertex pointing downward and topped by a large half-circle. Four small circles were also visible, arranged in pairs to the left and right of the triangle. An imposing golden cross was visible across it all.

A middle-aged man with dark hair and a charismatic aura stepped forward from the group of soldiers.

He stood before the villagers who had gathered, then spoke with a loud, confident voice.

“People of Pauweik, I am Oscar, captain of this unit. Know that you are now under the jurisdiction of the Holy Church,” he declared with authority.

A shiver ran down Haruto’s spine. He had a bad feeling.

“And by decree of the Conclave, every person residing in this village shall immediately present themselves before us. Any resistance will be considered an act of sedition.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd as a sense of unease began to take hold.

“Fear not! The Church of Niowe only punishes heretics, mages… and those who have something to hide,” he added, flashing a predatory smile.

Just then, a woman tried to slip away and flee. Unfortunately for her, one of the captain’s henchmen spotted her immediately. He drew his sword and blocked her path. The woman let out a shriek before raising both hands in front of the man. He was thrown backward violently, crashing onto the ground a few meters away. The impact was so brutal that he didn’t get up right away.

“What do we have here? Could it be a witch?” asked Oscar with an almost childlike curiosity.

Haruto barely took a step before being stopped by Aristide and Bhelgor. They shook their heads.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Aristide whispered in resignation.

Like a pack of wolves that had cornered their prey, half a dozen soldiers had already surrounded the woman. They were ready to pounce, waiting for the captain’s command.

“Seize her!” the man ordered.

The soldiers of the clergy then moved as one.

“Go away! Leave me alone, you bastards!” the victim screamed in desperation.

She barely had time to raise her hands again before a man was behind her, striking the back of her head with a vicious blow that sent her crashing to the dirt floor, unconscious.

Some of the villagers gasped in shock while whispers spread among the others.

“Excellent, gentlemen! You know what to do next. After all, we mustn’t let this… evil spread,” declared Oscar in a calculating tone, glaring at the villagers with a watchful eye.

“Sir!” replied two warriors in unison.

They wasted no time stuffing a dirty rag into her mouth and tying her up like a piece of sausage. They tossed their captive into a cart, and one of them climbed into the vehicle.

“No, no, no,” muttered Haruto, who understood with horror what was about to happen.

Beside him, Bhelgor gritted his teeth while Aristide searched the crowd for his wife.

The metallic sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath rang out, followed by a wet “schlick.” Then, silence. Not even a scream.

“That’s what happens to those who try to hide wicked gifts,” the captain said coldly.

Terror and shock were etched on the faces of the spectators. No one dared make a sound. Haruto felt dizzy.

“Those… those sons of bitches killed that woman! And right in front of us, too! Fuck, is that what their damn Church is all about?!” he thought, still in shock.

Even though violence and death were ever-present in the media of his own world, nothing had prepared him to witness a human being executed before his very eyes.

“And what if I remain stuck in this world? No… no, no point thinking about that right now,” Haruto thought, burying his face in his hands.

Captain Oscar finished smoothing out a crease in his immaculate cloak, then turned back to the crowd.

“With this setback behind us, we can now return to the business at hand: the collection of the ecclesiastical tithe.”

A heavy silence fell over the village square. It took a moment for the man’s words to sink into the collective consciousness. It was as if they had been spoken in a foreign language.

Haruto noticed that the villagers’ expressions were turning hostile. Some exchanged incredulous whispers, while others, including Aristide, stifled curses as they clenched their fists.

“You… you can’t do that…” someone in the crowd stammered.

Oscar tilted his head slightly, amused.

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it?”

He raised a hand, and immediately the soldiers came to attention.

“Search every building in this village. And take everything edible. Pantries, granaries, cured meats. Nothing must be left behind,” he ordered.

His henchmen then scattered throughout the village, breaking down doors, overturning crates, and searching every nook and cranny without the slightest mercy.

Muffled cries rang out as the houses were being ransacked.

“But that’s all we have to get through the winter…” whispered an old woman, tears in her eyes.

“No way! And certainly not before The Darkness!” Cody suddenly snapped, his face red with anger.

Several faces turned pale at the mention of the cold, dark season.

“We’re all doomed if…”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before two soldiers pounced on him, brutally pinning him to the ground.

The farmer struggled and screamed, but a kick to the ribs immediately knocked the wind out of him. He was then dragged over to the well and positioned so that all the residents of Pauweik could see him, like a trophy on display.

Then came a flurry of blows that rained down on Cody. Fists, boots, and sword pommels were relentless. The farmer’s screams quickly gave way to moans.

As he lay there, half dead, no one dared to step in to help him, afraid of suffering a similar fate. Haruto looked away, a lump in his throat.

The next hour passed in this suffocating atmosphere. The soldiers returned to the village square with their loot, having filled one of the two carts to the brim.

The villagers remained silent and kept their distance, but their angry stares said it all.

Oscar watched with a look of greedy satisfaction, then spoke again.

“Your grievances are legitimate. I want to reassure you that the Church knows how to show mercy.”

He paused, savoring the attention he had just captured.

“To that end, we will take care of all the children in this hamlet. They will be housed, clothed, fed, and educated.”

The man’s words hit the crowd like a slap to the face. That was all it took for the situation to erupt.

“What?!”

“No, no, no…”

“Don’t touch our kids!”

Parents rushed forward screaming, desperately trying to reach the soldiers who were grabbing their children. Hands clung to the armor, and cries of panic tore through the air. Haruto saw a mother throw herself at a soldier, only to be violently shoved to the ground.

Suddenly, a stone flew through the air and struck one of the clergy warriors in the head. The man staggered for a few seconds, still dazed.

Oscar scanned the area briefly, then pushed his way through the crowd at random. He advanced with slow, methodical steps and finally stopped in front of a simple villager who was standing completely still, his face ashen.

Haruto felt his heart pounding against his chest, dreading what was to come.

Without a word, Oscar raised his sword and, in an almost unreal movement, sliced off the poor man’s head. His body collapsed heavily to the ground, while the head rolled a short distance away.

A deathly silence fell over Pauweik, and the crowd immediately ceased their commotion. Even Bhelgor, with his imposing physique, stood motionless as the metallic scent of blood filled the air.

All around, the peasants’ faces betrayed a mixture of shock, terror, and grief. Their anger smoldered beneath the surface but was held in check by their intense fear.

Haruto was shocked by the captain’s barbarity.

“These men… they obey no law or morality. True zealots,” he thought to himself.

He was abruptly torn from his train of thought by a renewed wave of violence. Screams erupted from all sides, filled with hatred and despair.

Parents continued to rush toward the clergy’s henchmen, while other villagers collapsed to the ground. They were broken, unable to take anymore.

“Norea! Where’s Klein?” Aristide finally asked, having managed to locate his wife amid the chaos.

“They… they took him,” she blurted out before breaking into heart-wrenching sobs in his arms.

The father immediately glanced toward the carts and focused his attention on the second one. The children were crammed in there like sardines. Some were crying, while others were gesturing wildly and calling out for their parents. The youngest ones were too shocked to comprehend what was happening, staring blankly into nothingness.

“Klein! Klein, I’m here, Son!” roared the farmer as he moved toward the children.

Oscar sneered in contempt.

“Move forward!” he ordered his men. “Eliminate anyone who dares to block your path.”

Like mindless automatons devoid of any sense of morality, the soldiers pushed Aristide and the crowd aside brutally. They swung their blades, wounding or maiming innocent people to force their way through.

As the death toll continued to rise, the convoy moved onward, slowly and relentlessly. It was only when it finally reached the outskirts of Pauweik that no one had the heart to continue following the cart with their captive children.

What was the point? All was already lost. They could only watch, hearts heavy with grief, as what was most precious to them was forcibly taken away.

Then, as if to compound the horror, a powerful clap of thunder echoed through the dark sky. Freezing rain poured on the hamlet, soaking the motionless bodies of its inhabitants.

Haruto didn’t know how long he remained like that, stunned and enraged, his fists clenched in the downpour.

❖

After about twenty minutes of steady marching, the patrol had put enough distance between itself and the village to ease up its pace.

The soldiers dropped their guards slightly. Some were exchanging jokes, while others were looking with satisfaction at the cart loaded with provisions.

In the second caravan, the children’s anguished cries gradually turned into weary sobs that were masked by the steady rumble of the wheels and the creaking of the axles.

A man finally approached Oscar.

“Captain… We found… something strange in this village’s smithy,” he said in a measured tone.

Oscar turned his head slightly toward his subordinate and gestured for him to continue.

“It was a kind of hammer… But it wasn’t ordinary. It moved on its own without anyone touching it. Probably… witchcraft, if you ask me.”

The captain remained silent for a few seconds, his gaze lost in the distance. Then he slowly nodded, “Ah, I see…”

The presence of a sorceress among these lowlifes and this unique artifact couldn’t be a coincidence. Pauweik was hiding something, and it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him.

Oscar then turned his attention to the lead cart, the one carrying the children, and met the deadened gaze of one of them.

“Yes… they might come in handy,” he thought to himself before addressing the soldier again.

“As soon as we return to Tunaust, make sure the children are handed over to an Interrogator first. I want to be informed of any details he can extract from them about this village. Is that clear?”

“As you wish, Captain,” replied the man, stealing a glance at the mountain of food.

“As for the rest… proceed as usual. The girls will go to the convents and the boys to the barracks. Sell the food as you see fit… But don’t you dare forget my cut.”

A snicker rippled through the ranks. The soldiers were already imagining how much they’d get once the supplies were sold at the market.

“We’re going to hit the jackpot on this trip,” a warrior chuckled.

Oscar smiled discreetly, thinking about what came next.

If he managed to get his hands on more evidence of “corruption” in this dump, he could then justify a larger-scale intervention. And thus get noticed by the Conclave.

“Yes! The title of Inquisitor will soon be mine!” Oscar thought triumphantly, clenching his fist.