The Divine Hunter

“Have mercy, good sir!” the old man howled, groveling before Roy, not unlike a dog trying to save its skin.

Roy did not remove his sword from the old man’s nape. He kicked the thatch beside him, and when the grey thigh rolled out of it, Roy’s gaze became sharper than his blade. This man is an animal. The old man was gaunt, and his hair was all grey. He was frail, and his face was wrinkled, but he looked kind. It was hard for Roy to imagine such a man to be a bastard who would feast on another human.

Roy knew there were monsters who would feast on their own kind in this world, and there was even a group that was made up of cannibals, but it was the first time he saw a cannibal in the flesh. He was surprised to see this so early, however. After all, the Northern War hadn’t begun yet, and the situation in the northern lands shouldn’t have been so dire. So why did this old man do this? “You connived with the fallen vodyanoi and devoured the dead. Not even death is enough to pay for your sins.”

Roy was about to execute the old man, but Letho stopped him.

The old man quickly banged his head against the ground, and tears fell down his pasty cheeks. Fear squeezed his heart, and it made him piss himself. “Have mercy on me, good sirs! I have not harmed a single soul!”

“Then how did this get here?” Letho kicked the thigh on the ground and choked the old man as he stared straight into the old man’s eyes.

“I-I cut it off from the dead. I have no blood on my hands.”

“How did you get your hands on the corpse, then?” Letho interrogated.

The old man stammered, “I-It’s the villagers the vodyanoi killed.”

Roy held his fury back and asked as calmly as he could, “So you’re saying that you told the fallen about our plans, and they give you ‘food’ in return?”

Panta kept quiet, but that was an answer in and of itself. He slowly removed his neck from Letho’s grip and curled up in a corner.

“I do not understand. The village should have enough food for you. You are spoiled for choice, so why did you feast on a corpse?” Roy asked, his voice as deadly calm as still waters. He doesn’t seem like he’s corrupted. He’s a normal human.

Panta raised his gnarly arm and pointed at the thigh that was lying on the ground. He stared at it with passion, and he goaded, “If you want to know my answer, then all you have to do is take a bite. One bite is enough. I promise you’ll fall in love with its flavor. Its texture and aroma are so, so much better than any meat I have ever eaten. Oh, it is such a joy to eat human flesh.” He licked his lips, and his eyes glinted with indulgence. “Ever since I had a taste of it, I lost all desire for any other meat. It’s as if they are tasteless tree bark. I would vomit every time I ate them. It was then I knew that I couldn’t live without human flesh. Curing it isn’t the perfect way to go. Fres…” The old man suddenly kept quiet, then he said, “It’s better if the flesh is stewed.”

A deep sensation of disgust gripped Roy. What is this? Some kind of food fetish or mental disease? “When did you develop this… unique taste?”

Panta answered vaguely, “I’m an old soul now. I can’t remember when exactly, but it has been a while.”

“Have you met anyone who shares your taste for flesh?”

“No-Nobody wants to take part in this blessing with me.”

Roy nodded. “You can keep the flesh for yourself. Now tell us how we can get in touch with the fallen.”

“Will you spare my life if I tell you?”

“Have you truly never harmed a single soul?” Letho asked.

“In the name of Lebioda, I have never harmed a single life!” Panta adamantly defended himself. “And I am on good terms with all the villagers. They can prove my innocence!”

Letho gazed at the old man. “If what you tell is the truth, then I shall spare your life.”

***

A while later, Panta came out of the hut looking relieved, and he led the witchers to the south side of Lake Vizima. They came to a gigantic willow tree, and the old man caressed the rough tree bark as he puffed. “Every time I bury a dead fish under this patch of soil right before the tree, a vodyanoi priest would wait for me at midnight that very day. I would tell the priest about all the recent happenings in the nearby villages and all the news I managed to collect. They would grant me flesh depending on the value of the information I gave.”

“Can they understand human tongue?”

“That I do not know. Perhaps they will relay the information to their master.”

The witcher checked the surroundings and cast Axii on Panta before he started another round of interrogation to confirm that he wasn’t lying. “I have another question.” Roy stared at the old man curiously. “Most of the villagers are plagued by nightmares, and they seem tired all the time, but you don’t look like you have that kind of problem. That is odd. You come in contact with the fallen a lot more than they do, but why aren’t you affected?”

“I am not sure.” Panta shook his head nervously. He knew the witcher was trying to make him confess his crimes. “I do have nightmares as well, but I don’t have them as much as the others.”

“I can answer your question, kid,” Letho interrupted. “The nightmares Dagon creates corrupt innocent souls and turn them into bloodthirsty believers, but if the victim is already inhumane to begin with, then the nightmares won’t work as well on them.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Panta retreated in fear and was backed to the willow tree.

“Do you have any idea about the consequences that will arise from your actions?”

Panta gulped nervously and tried to weasel his way out in one final, desperate attempt. “Even if I hadn’t told the fallen anything, they would have still killed everyone. I-I’m just trying to survive. You won’t kill poor ol’ me for trying to live, right?”

Should I spare him? Roy contemplated that seriously, and he arrived at a decision a moment later. His pupils contracted. “Panta, don’t you think you’ve lived long enough? Sixty years is a long time in this world. You’ve had your fun.”

“But you promised—”

“Letho promised. That’s why he won’t do anything.”

Panta opened his mouth, but he could say nothing. The last thing he saw was the young witcher tensing up, and a white flash tore across his very eyes. The world started spinning, and when he opened his eyes again, all he could see was a headless body standing right before him, blood spurting from its neck like a crimson fountain. That’s my body… But where’s the head…? Before he could finish his final thought, his head rolled away, and he closed his eyes forever.

‘Panta killed. EXP +20.’

“There’s a line a human must never cross, no matter what.” Roy tore down a piece of cloth from the body and wiped the blood off Aerondight as carefully as possible.

“You’re getting more and more merciless, kid.” Letho picked up the decapitated head. “You would have never done this to a defenseless old man before.”

“He might have been human, but he was already a monster inside, and getting rid of monsters is our job.” Roy heaved a sigh and sheathed Aerondight. “Let’s clear this place and bury a dead fish. We’re going to have a little talk with the fallen at midnight.”

The witchers came back to Panta’s hut after they buried a dead fish in the ground, then they dug up a dozen human corpses in the fields nearby.