Chapter 79: Wolves
Chapter 79: Wolves
The night deepened. A bright, clear moon hung high in the sky.
Hans, alone on horseback, patrolled the cordoned-off streets. The streets were deserted. Within the residences on either side, burning lamps and deliberately hushed conversations swiftly vanished as his horse’s hooves passed by.
The massacres the Crusaders had once inflicted upon the Saracens, though over a hundred years had passed, were still firmly etched in the minds of the infidels in this city.
Among Lothar’s company of Winged Hussars, only Hans possessed the qualification to patrol alone. The others had to travel in pairs at least, for mutual support.
"Whoa—" Hans halted his horse before a temple.
This was a temple named the Holy Fire Scripture Hall; legend said it housed Zoroastrian theological classics translated into various languages, as well as manuscripts left by prophets. Many Zoroastrian monks traveled thousands of miles to come here to peruse and venerate the scriptures left by their ancient sages.
Sitting on his horse, Hans sniffed the air. Not far ahead, he detected a scent that was both familiar and strange: barbaric, cruel, wild, tyrannical.
He searched his mind and suddenly realized with a jolt: ’This is... a scent similar to Abelardo’s? It’s a werewolf of this world!’
Hans tethered his horse by the roadside and walked slowly forward. A moment later, he saw, under an olive tree in front of the temple, a man with a somber face kneeling on the ground, repeatedly making the sign of the cross before him and praying.
Hans walked up and stopped a short distance behind him, calling out loudly, "Werewolf! If you wish to repent to the Heavenly Father, why do you worship at an infidel’s scripture hall?"