Chapter 213 - 214
There was no telling how long he knelt there for, but Alistar eventually noticed that several people were entering into the plaza from South Street. Eight men were approaching him with swords drawn, their faces white as parchment as they looked around at the state of the city. From the southern gate to the plaza’s entrance lay a trail of devastation only seen during wartimes, the most eerie aspect being the complete absence of civilians. Dangling from their necks were silver necklaces that sported the holy oval of the Lucian Faith, two of them lagging behind the others to draw said symbol into the air while uttering quiet prayers.
"Boy," said the man at the head of the small group, after hurrying over with frantic steps as soon as he saw Tramon’s lifeless body. "What happened here?" Like the others, he was dressed in hard leather armour beneath a thick white cloak.
The moment Alistar laid eyes on the ovals hanging from their necks, he recalled all the trauma he’d suffered today, and all of the lives that had been lost due to the actions of the holy delegation.
The man froze in place when he saw the hatred in Alistar’s gaze—a golden gaze with traces of steely silver—and immediately threw up his guard. Seeing his wariness, his companions closed in on Alistar with their swords at the ready.
"What is it?" asked one of them, who raised an eyebrow at his accomplice. "Did you spot the demon?"
"The boy’s hostile for some reason."
"Hey, you," said a third swordsman in an urgent, condescending tone. "What happened here? It was a demon, right? Where is it?"
Alistar gently placed Tramon’s body on the ground and then stood up without a word. Striding a few dozen paces away, he gently pried Tramon’s sword from the grip of his severed hand, picking up the arm as carefully as he could before he returned to his master’s body and placed it at his side.
"Put down the sword, son," said a fourth speaker, the shortest swordsman in the group. "Now that we’re here, the demon won’t hurt you."