Arc 3, Chapter 196—A ’Simple’ Mission, No?
"Guys, I remember it’s over here!" Rayna gestured, towards what looked like a small old abandoned Mill. There was a crookedly made wooden sign pinned to the ground that read: Grain-Land on it.
It was a line structure surrounded by open fields... yet, it gave them the spooks. Everyone looked at Rayna, as if saying: Are you sure this is it?
Well, it was nothing like what they were expecting. During the days when they were out exploring District 57, they had all split up, so they could collect information. It’s not that they doubted and didn’t trust Rayna, but this place really looked like nothing much... But then again, in such a hellish place, they also knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
Just then, the Mill’s doors slowly swung open and they knew they were invited in. The space was dimly lit, with countless bags of grain sorted and stored in piles all around the mill. Machines churned, grinding the harvested grains, that spewed strange unnatural light when ground.
Special—no doubt the food made here must be special in certain ways. They walked further in, only to realize they were actually at the top most floor of the mill. They reached a railing ahead with 2 stairways leading down from the left and the right.
It was bigger underground and also deeper too. Honestly, it looked like they were standing above a stadium... only this stadium went down 10 stories deep. Apart from the 2 main stairways, there were bridges on each level.
Looking ahead, they too spotted a metal Bridge on the same level they were on. The bridge was thicker at its center, thick enough to fit an entire table at its center, as though they were here for some fancy dinner or something.
"Little ones, this old man has been waiting too long for you." A man they’ve never seen before, raised his hand and waved at them childishly.
How odd... Levon’s eyes flickered thoughtfully. ’Since stepping into the Order, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone wear clerical robes... not even The Department Heads...’
No matter who they are in the Order, they always wear their uniformed attires. So it’s clear that this Clerical attire must be this guy’s uniform.
What division or title did he hold? Was he like Phix and the master’s other Tournament halls that dressed differently too?
Remember that those under Phix had bizarre uniforms, especially since the bottom half of their faces were often covered with a thin cloth. This meant that apart from the usual uniforms he was used to seeing, there were those with peculiar uniforms and roles he has yet to meet.
"Come now?" The strange man’s voice dripped with authority. "Are you going to ogle me all day?... Or are you going to sit and get down to business."
Father Notchra’s eyes twinkled when scanning through the group before him.
In particular, he was more interested in prey than anything else.
’Levon Belmont...Interesting...!’
Despite his efforts to hide his aura, the raw strength emitting from him was too hard for them to think him anything but ordinary.
"Now, now..." he began with a teasing whisper. "You may all call me Notchra—Father Notchra to be exact."
The atmosphere was as still and ominous as the underworld itself, with Levon swirling the lollipop in his mouth thoughtfully. He had subconsciously unraveled one after taking a seat. His body seemed to be unhinged and in battle mode when sitting next to this man who called himself Father Notchra. Everyone else seemed to react the same, despite their cool exteriors.
"Well now, I’m not the sort to dilly dally on important matters." Notchra playfully continued. However, in under a second, his demeanor changed.
"There has been a report..." his voice trailed heavily, "of a vampire string in a quaint little village called Grunwald."
"You see, that little old village is a remote place you won’t be finding easily on the map, unless you’re familiar with it, or really looking hard... Tis’ a place where, until now, the dead have stayed politely in their graves... But now..."
Notchra paused, his eyes thinning and his lips stretching unnaturally from ear to ear. "Do you know why vampires are predictable?"
Are they? No one spoke, allowing Notchra to continue.
"For eons and centuries, the church has observed their attack patterns. They are creatures of habit, haunting the same old places, the same old sorts of prey... And for as long as I can recall, the village of Grunwald has never been of interest to them."
With every word from Notchra, Levon’s mind spiraled. Just like him, Artilla, Leo, Shugo, and Rayna, felt something must be off about the matter. Afterall, if vampires have never shown any interest towards this village called Grunwald...why now?
"Not to worry, little butterflies..." Notchra’s tone turned lighter. "Since weak entry-level Bloodren 10s like you have been assigned to this matter, it shows the report must either be speculation with no definitive proof, or the work of some stray ghouls who carelessly ventured into Grunwald village... Call it a minor infestation if you will."
Artilla nodded thoughtfully. "So our mission will be to handle any potential ghouls on site, no?"
"More or less..." Notchra’s grin widened with mysterious light. However, it flashed too fast for anyone to notice. Raising his hands in what looked like defeat, Notchra put on a pitiful display. "Hey... It’s sad for me, your chaperone, who babysits newbies like you. Anyway, we depart in 3 days."
Notchra didn’t give them time to process his words as he calmly rose from his seat. "We’ll meet in District 610, at 10:00 am."
As for if they know how to get to district 610, how was that any of his business?
In a flash, Notchra vanished like the wind, leaving the group of rookies behind.
’District 610, huh?’ Levon swirled the lollipop in his mouth with a narrowed gaze. ’3 days is fine by me...’
It was more than enough time for them to find our way around!