"What is there to be happy about, Mr. Hunter?" the puzzled guide inquired. He still looked worried.

"They eat all the small creatures in the area, kill the cold ones, and shun humans. There's a whole nest of them out there, go put up your relic," I explained my joy and let go of his hand.

"Milsdar, we need the crypt, you know? We can't survive here without it. You know what happens if the bodies of the dead are left in the village," the woodcutter explained his logic to me. I gloomed.

"If you kill the owl bear and cubs, the other one, the one who is hunting now, will take revenge," I instructed him. He seemed to understand, or pretended to understand.

"Good, I'll go put the guardian relic back in its place," Borna replied.

I turned around and walked toward the steps. To the tombstones, blue and pink in the glow of the Titan's extinguishing light. Sitting down beside them, I scrutinized my surroundings. There were two open graves, and I didn't like them very much. I had to think…

…

In the sky the firstborn of the Bright Sonm glimmered. Over there, Urnat the Bear flared; to the right, the Trap Net frolicked and the Red Giant shimmered with its light. Borna emerged from the passage with a club in his hands. Behind him were drops of red blood. His boots were smeared with something yellow and draughty. I turned away and looked toward the cemetery. It was almost invisible in the dim light of the thousands of Light Sons that kept appearing in the black depths of the blue vault.

Crickets chirped. An unknown bird answered them with a whimsical chirp. The fox, glinting his black eyes in the glow of the green lantern, went about his business. You want to know why I didn't go to see the body of the hunter on the chill? It's simple. He was not of the group that came out of the castle with me, but died here ten years ago, as the Elder said.

Even though the Order has stopped issuing crossbows to hunters, it still assumes that the killer of the frozen ones can use them, and that's why the ancient mount for this weapon was left on his back. True, it is usually now occupied by a spear or dart. It alarmed me that no one had visited this village before me. There didn't seem to be anyone ahead. I hoped that the hunters in my group had simply passed this place by, not even knowing about this, forgotten by all, village in the thicket. It was possible. I wanted to believe it. "The places here are dangerous, so they might not have lingered," I concluded.

I was brought out of my musings by Borna, addressing me impatiently,"Well, it's done – I've put the relic up." The guide put his hands to his sides. Having poured in front of me about a dozen more black arrows, he pointed towards the forest, "Why are you sitting, let's get out of here!"

"That's not all. It wasn't an owl bear that killed your villagers," I explained and counted the new black arrows, "twelve more. Fourteen along with the one I already have.

"What are you talking about?" A grimace of fear crept over the guide's face.

"Do you see two sarcophagi open here?" I started from afar. "Yes, and someone drank all the blood from those people."

Bourne had all the blood drained from his face now. I think he was starting to get the point of what I was saying. Now he was really frightened by the juxtaposition of the two facts. I cringed.

"Wolfhounds! Werewolves!" The redneck blurted out the name of the dangerous undead he knew. I covered my face with my hand and rubbed my eyes. "It's the same thing every time. All the villagers are obsessed with them. I thought I'd get something else in the middle of nowhere."

"It's definitely not wolfsbane. If it was, there would be numerous bites all over the victim's body, if the body had survived at all. But most likely there would be nothing left of the body," I explained to him.

"Sir, then who could it have been?" Borna asked. I was about to answer him, but the hair on the back of my neck stirred, and I turned to where my guide was already looking-right behind me. Without looking away, I started to get up. The villager behind my back ran to the crypt with a wild cry. "Right decision," because now it has the relic of the keeper, and she will not let the coolie into the crypt. With a swift movement I snatched the crossbow from my back.

Two red lights burned between the trees. The beast tilted its head to the side, a red line running down its spine to its razor-sharp claws. Its sternum glowed a bright scarlet light from within, illuminating its ribs and the prey it had devoured not so long ago. Another ghastly creature echoed his call. Flaring with infernal fire, it hung from one of the crypt's columns, under the very parapet of the colonnade.

I fired my crossbow vertically upward, and the dwarven mechanism clicked demandingly, waiting for another arrow. And it was not long in coming. The beast had already made three big jumps in my direction when another black arrow flew out of the crossbow. Usually I didn't miss, but this time the arrow went sideways, as if deflected by something. The chilled man squealed, and his womb flared brighter.