CHAPTER 489: CHAPTER 467 THE MOON OVER AUTUMN DUSK ISLAND IS ESPECIALLY ROUND

At the southern edge of Autumn Dusk Island, the ruins of a castle stood on a towering cliff by the lakeshore.

Within the cobwebbed and bug-infested broken walls, a small bonfire flickered, and the air was thick with summer night’s dampness.

The leaping flames cast light and warmth, gradually brightening five weary faces.

One of them clutched his shoulder, blood slowly seeping through the gray cloth bandaging the wound.

In an attempt to remove the fragments embedded in his body, he had enlarged the wound nearly twice its size, but some splinters remained lodged between muscle and bone, unable to be extracted.

"Curse this devilish lightning rod!" Aijia Lang, pale-faced, took small sips of a low-strength rice wine to suppress the pain.

"I told you, the moment you see that screaming lightning rod, run quickly, or the evil spirit will devour your flesh. See, it happened." Favalari, the leader of the Demon Hunters, sat down after silently putting away his herb pouch.

Aijia Lang shifted, making space for Favalari. "How was I supposed to know there would be several veterans in the adjoining yard?"

"Aval is dead. What’s the use of saying this now?"

"We have work tomorrow morning. Speak up if there’s anything urgent."

Unlike the fully armed Aijia Lang, the remaining Demon Hunters, including Favalari, wore light, simple attire.

Their fingernails were filled with dirt, and each one sat with a hand on their waist, resting on the rotting timbers.

"Aren’t you all curious about who killed Aval?" Aijia Lang looked incredulously at his companions.

"In this line of work, death is frequent. It’s the living who are surprising." A Demon Hunter patted his waist, "I told you not to take it to heart; being a Demon Hunter means living today, dying tomorrow. Who are we risking for? No kids, no family, just courting death."

"Some die from natural disasters, others from gang mob hits, crushed by lords, or skewered by farmers’ pitchforks... Only one has died here. Report back and be done with it. What’s to be concerned about?"

"Huh?" Aijia Lang looked at Favalari with incomprehension.

Favalari, fending off flies, coughed lightly, "After all, Aval was our companion. We should care. Aijia Lang, what’s your investigation concluded?"

"Last night, I returned to the construction workers’ hut, planning to meet Aval, but he wasn’t there." Aijia Lang scratched his scalp, "I was told by his roommates that he went to unclog a slime-blocked drain.

The next morning, I got up early and asked around again, still no sign of him, and I felt something was off.

Pretending to head to work, I slipped over the construction site’s fence, changed clothes, and went to find him in the alley.

But when I found him, he was dead, brutally electrocuted with a lightning spell, charring his clothes, stick, and hair.

Three other innocents also got electrocuted to death."

Though uninterested in the specifics of Aval’s death, the Demon Hunters, eager to return, asked using the limited knowledge they had acquired at the Demon Hunter Castle.

"Was there interference from a Shaping Wizard using lightning spells?"

Aijia Lang shook his head, "That’s how it seems, but if it were really them, the Pope’s Palace would have posted a notice long ago. They wouldn’t keep it secret and conduct an investigation."

"You mean, there’s a third party involved?"

"Possibly, maybe the Secret Faction from Black Snake Bay has infiltrated."

"Impossible," Favalari immediately shook his head, "Mande to the north is at war with roadblocks set, checkpoints along the way.

To enter Daze Village from the south, one must pass through Spider Forest, and undergo layer upon layer of inspections. The route we took might be known only to us."

Remembering the eerie tunnel, the piles of white bones, and the sinister twin statues, the seasoned Demon Hunters couldn’t help but shudder in unison.

"If we have to escape, let’s take the water route or go through Spider Forest."

"Agreed."

"I support that too."

"Yes, we need to consider how to escape," Aijia Lang reluctantly tried to stretch his arm but winced in pain.

"Wait." The Demon Hunter sitting opposite Aijia Lang suddenly stopped his swaying, "What do you mean by considering escape?"

"Favalari didn’t tell you?" Aijia Lang blinked, "The Witch Doctor in town dissected the bodies. Demon Hunters on the island have already been exposed. They’re verifying now, and if we don’t act, they’ll be coming for us soon."

"What?!"

"No, you two youngsters, can’t you mind the affairs of the old veterans?

"Can’t young people just focus on their work? Why meddle unnecessarily?"

The Demon Hunters stood up in a furor, their voices lowered, yet unable to conceal their anger.

"You guys, what’s going on?" Aijia Lang was still puzzled, "We shouldn’t be staying here too long anyway."

"Ah, is this your first or second time out? You don’t understand!"

According to the rules of demon hunter infiltration, once they enter, they pretend to be vagrants to find a part-time job locally, secretly collecting information or causing sabotage.

However, once they really started looking for part-time work, they realized something was off.

The daily wages here are quite high; upon careful calculation, the part-time pay actually surpasses their main job!

Most importantly—daily payments! No balance due!

The city’s construction workers, after completing the daily piecework, earn 1.5 dinars a day and get paid daily! As long as they’re not afraid of bloody urine, they can earn 45 dinars a month.

Outside the city, a harvest worker gets piece-rate pay of approximately one and three-quarters of a dinar for harvesting and bundling one acre of flax.

Meanwhile, if a cultivator opts for wages, they can earn 6-9 dinars for cultivating one acre at Saint Plow Monastery.

By coincidence, flax is sown in April and harvested in August each year, and now is harvest season.

These demon hunters are strong and agile, working more diligently than punished laborers; at their peak, they can harvest four acres or cultivate 1.5 acres a day.

Equivalent to a high daily wage of 7 to 9 dinars!

Of course, ordinary people surely can’t earn that much, but demon hunters possess extraordinary power.

The farm owners on the island even offer free dinners, which occasionally include meat and dried fish.

Although that meat tastes peculiar, like chicken but without chicken bones, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s meat.

As work isn’t available every day, roughly estimating their earnings, each of them surprisingly makes more than a gold pound a month.

This mission only offers them 4 gold pounds each, and only 1 gold pound as a deposit; when the remaining balance will be paid is unknown.

It’s not like they haven’t worked as laborers before; those priests and knights can’t even offer 1 dinar for harvesting an acre, and their meals lack any fat to speak of.

In fact, most lords don’t even provide meals.

These demon hunters ultimately decided to put secondary tasks aside; assassination and gathering intelligence can be done anytime, right?

The primary focus should be on making money!

Isn’t it just harvesting? It’s not as if they haven’t done it before.

Is it a little hard work and toil? It’s not like it will kill them.

At least they can save up for the New Year Festival, avoiding hardship while others celebrate, while they’d still have to go find those damned monsters in the woods.

They also wish, when everyone gathers, not to gnaw on black bread in the dark and cold.

They want to drink hot chicken soup, enjoy beer, and play cards with old comrades from the same castle.

Maybe they can even find a chance to heal some hidden injuries and illnesses, despite demon hunters not living long, they still want to live a few more years.

Once they realized this, everything changed instantly.

Originally, there were supposed to be two people in the countryside, and four people in the city each gathering intelligence, but it turned into everyone scrambling to go to the countryside "to gather news."

Only the stubborn Aval and the young Aijia Lang were willing to stay in town; all other demon hunters went to the countryside to harvest flax and cultivate land.

The demon hunters, being quick and strong, skilled in fighting and grabbing work, drove the original beastman labor gang from the east bank of the Parra River to the west bank.

The demon hunters and outsider human laborers nearly monopolized the work on the east bank farms; new labor had to pay tribute with salted fish to Favalari.

But now this is a problem; once the whole island starts checking and searching and verifying identities, these few black-market workers are bound to be exposed.

They were planning to work until November, counting on this wave to earn money for the New Year Festival.

Bear in mind, even after harvest season, they could still work as cultivators, earning nearly 100 dinars a month.

This means potentially losing more than half; naturally, these demon hunters were anxious.

"You fool, who’s going to make up for the missing gold pound for me?"

"I was supposed to earn 3 gold pounds, with a full belly, but because of you, I’m basically going to starve during the New Year Festival!"

Facing the united pressure from several seasoned demon hunters, Aijia Lang was nearly at his wit’s end; he didn’t even understand what he had done wrong.

In the end, he could only turn his seeking gaze to Favalari who had remained silent beside him.