I stand in the middle of the street with my arms out, beckoning whatever is out here to come at me. Nothing does. I just wait out in the street while the rest of them get the wagon and the horse ready. The whole time, Esther cries and Leonard is quiet.

A question comes to mind while I am unoccupied, searching for danger. What Sigil do these things have? Surely they have some other weakness besides Ether. I ask Earl, hoping he remembers or wrote down the answer to this in his notes of the manuals somewhere.

“Earl! What Sigil do these things have!?”

I hear frantic page turning for several seconds before he yells back at me from on top of the wagon.

“Uh... It says that most have none! Only the first that is born from the Spiritrealm colliding with ours has a Sigil! The rest are created eventually through the first one spreading outwards!”

That’s... That actually might not be that bad of a thing. Maybe if we can find the first, we can kill the rest. Although, the rest would probably be all the townsmen and women that used to live here.

“Is there anything special about the first one!? Like if we kill it, do the rest die!?”

More page turning just as the horse begins moving. Elizabeth and Leonard got the wagon ready while we're figuring this out.

“I don’t know! There were only a few paragraphs on the spirit! It didn’t even say what Sigil rank they were! I wrote down everything there was! This is just a guess based on other spirits that I read about, but it’s likely to be denser, larger, and faster! That’s common among the more powerful spirits!”

So for us to put an end to these creatures, we will likely have to find and kill their progenitor. I have a hard time believing that is going to be easy to do. Probably better to just escape the town while we can. No point in risking our lives more than we have to. Especially because I doubt any townsmen or other good people will be following behind us. I’d be glad if someone like Alexos or other Outlaws got stuck in this town and turned into a Bakwa.

The wagon approaches me, as I've walked further into the street, as the horse begins moving. No longer do I need to yell.

“Okay. Let’s just try to get out of here and hope the other thing doesn’t appear. I’d rather not try and take on a huge spirit while I’m still recovering. I’ll stay on foot, though, just in case.”

I see Earl nod at me while he holds the reins on the horse. Leonard sits next to him in the front with dead eyes. I don’t have time to try and cheer him up no matter how much I wish to. Making eye contact with Elizabeth who is holding onto the weeping Esther, I walk toward the edge of town in front of the rolling wagon.

While the whole group heads towards the edge of town, which is only a ways away, all the creatures on the building move along to follow us without ever setting foot on the ground. They just stalk and follow the billowing dust in the wake of our movement at night.

Very little occurs as we move, just the sound of tapping fingers surrounds us. I can hear the grinding of teeth from behind me in the wagon. I have to constantly turn back to make sure whoever is doing it is okay. Leonard is frequently sweeping his shotgun back and forth at all the creatures around us, careful not to use his last two shells.

Eventually, though, we reached the edge of the quiet and foreboding little town that put my hackles up the second I laid sights on it. Harmony Town. Quite the fitting name for sure.

And when we do reach the end, by way of the main street, a hooded shadow emerges from the ground around twenty feet from us blocking our way. It wears a dark outfit cloaked in hard-to-see-through shadow.

Then, it takes a step towards me as it takes its hood off and smiles with its red impish face. It appears to have red skin underneath the hood and be very short. At most only four feet tall and it holds a cane made out of dark wood in its hands. Its face is wide and almost gleeful at our current situation.

I quickly turn back to Earl, hoping he knows what’s happening and all I see is him flipping through more pages. Great. He’s got no clue.

So, I draw one of my daggers in my left hand and hold my rapier in my right while I prepare Leonard.

“Get your finger on the trigger, Leonard! Don’t know what’s about to go down.”

I hear him shuffle and the clank of the stock of the shotgun on the wood of the wagon. Even better. He’s panicking. I see the small red thing in front of me take another step as its smile widens, and I take one as well to try and make it back off.

Abruptly, I feel myself lose balance as I fall, barely catching myself with my closed fists right in front of it. Glancing up, I see it wave its arms outwards and then back in on itself in a grand gesture before it steps back away from me. Then, a torrential downpour of tapping fingers appears.

Oh, that’s not good. Not good at all. This little red dwarf must control these tendril-fingered things.

I step back and activate Chain Eyes, hoping to see something appear on the red dwarf. And I do. It’s covered in dark orange chains that somehow sting my eyes just at the sight of it, like being in the presence of sulfur. Okay, 2nd Sigil. I can deal with that. Then, I turn and scan the surroundings quickly, unwilling to use Ether for long periods of time in my condition.

What I see are hundreds of unchained tendril-fingered, big-headed, cerulean-eyed, deformed humanoids imminent towards the wagon. And among a huge group that is currently heading down from what appears to be the town bank, is one of those very creatures, a Bakwa, wrapped in yellow illusory chains.

I found it! Didn’t think it would be that easy to be fair. However, my heart sinks as the odds don’t favor me too heavily because the creator of all these other Bakwas is the same Sigil rank as someone like Edmund. And yet, I ignore the little red dwarf that is just slowly walking away, and I instead move towards the wagon. I have a spirit to slay.

As I walk past, Earl sticks his head out and quickly flashes at me a sketch. A drawing of a short red creature that resembles the one I saw, but poorly drawn as if made on the fly.

“Is this exactly what you saw? I couldn’t completely tell from here.”

I look at it for just a split second and can already tell that it’s definitely the same creature. I nod.

“Yes. Short, red, and holding a cane. Do you know what it is then?”

Earl pushes up his glasses before speaking from memory.

“Nain Rouge. These aren’t on the manuals as they’re very, very rare. But, I remember that the old hunter Ernest said he met one of these decades ago. Killed most of his group of five. Left only him with bad luck for years. Most of this is just from folklore and old tales, but they are Lesser Demons of Misfortune, Strife, and Evil. A kind of Imp. It’s said their inborn curse is to only be capable of directly hurting those who have killed another sentient creature. Otherwise, they use the ability to set up unfortunate scenarios to get victims killed. Now, none of this is confirmed, but it’s better than nothing. This doesn’t sound too good for you Wyatt. I think it can only hurt you.”

I let the information sink in as I watch the Bakwas move ever closer, creeping towards our stopped wagon. I don’t know much about folklore besides the simple like Werewolves and Vampires and their traits, so I just believe in Earl’s guesses. It can cause bad luck and sets up misfortune for others. Is that how I tripped just a moment ago? And The bit about only hurting those that killed another sentient creature bit doesn’t sound right.

“It got Lonnie turned into a Bakwa, though, so what do you mean it can’t directly hurt others that haven’t killed other people?”

Earl instantly answers the justification obviously already in his mind.

“It didn’t turn him into a Bakwa though. Another Bakwa did that. I think it means that it can only directly affect you with its hands, cane, or misfortune capabilities. Everything else must be set up indirectly. The townsmen must have slowly been killed through this Nain Rouge raising these Bakwas. He probably took out the Hunter first due to their almost guaranteed chances of already killing someone.”

I guess that’s true. The little red demon wasn’t anywhere in sight when Lonnie accepted the shell. Damn, Earl really knows his shit. He barely knew anything about the supernatural just a week ago. How's he this good now?

“Earl, how do you know this much? You’ve only had those manuals for a week! And the Nain Rouge stuff isn’t even in them.”

Earl sits up a bit straighter and seemingly basks in what I just said despite the looming threat. He must genuinely like being questioned or something.

“The whole time you were hunting, practicing, or treating your illness, I was reading and writing down notes. Not just that, but I have been compiling all the folklore I’ve heard over the years in case any holds true. I’m not a fighter, and I probably never will be one even with a Sigil. It’s best if I can help you fight. Help you have the tools you need to win. And knowledge is the most powerful tool for a Hunter.”

Now that I think about it, for the past week, and really ever since I met him, he’s had his nose in a book and a hand on a pen. I could never do that. My body won’t let me sit still for that long without something to do. And the last bit he said resonated with me. It’s one of the first things Edmund ever told me.

I remember him saying something along the lines of “Hunters need three things, grit, knowledge, and skills.”. Alone, I only have two of those at most. I definitely have grit, and my skills are debatable. But knowledge, I sorely lack. That I have to recognize that even if I hate learning.

There are more pressing matters than my weaknesses though, like the Bakwas that are nearing in their approach on the back of our wagon. I walk towards the back to try and get a good view of where the one with yellow chains is, but I cannot see it. So, I just yell at Earl and Elizabeth to get the wagon moving again and move against the Nain Rouge. The only one it can directly hurt is me after all, no point in being extra careful against it like we previously were.

I hear the wagon’s wheel turning and rolling against the dust and dirt underneath as I face the oncoming horde of Bakwas. Only when I face down the onslaught and unending tide of these monstrous spirits do I hesitate. How am I going to reach the big guy through this swarm? How am I even going to kill the big one?

The shotgun only stunned them momentarily while all my rapier did was make them uncomfortable and slowly retreat. Maybe my daggers could fare better as they are likely a second or third Flamme, but I feel like as Earl said, Ether is their weakness. Without it present in the attack, they are likely to just shrug off whatever hits them.

My feet twist and turn in the dust as I come up with a better strategy. The Nain Rouge was likely what kept them from the street and what helped them grow. Maybe if I kill it, they will stay away? It’s just an idea, but it’s a much better one than attacking the Bakwas who won’t be affected by my attempts.

So, I dash back to the front of the wagon towards the Nain Rouge who just stands to the side observing. And as I run towards the Nain Rouge past the wagon, I hear Elizabeth scream. I quickly look and see her falling off of the wagon. Too far to catch her as I am now nearing the red dwarf, I see her slam into the ground as dust and sand go flying into the air.

What the hell was that? Did someone push her?

I take an extra second that I probably don’t have to spare to look at the front of the wagon where she was previously. The side of the seat that she was sitting in looks like it broke off from stress or wear and tear. That… That can’t be a coincidence when the Nain Rouge is here.

But, I thought it could only affect murderers? Oh…..

As I focus on the Nain Rouge, I cast away the burgeoning suspicious thoughts in my mind. When I reach it, the dusty and sandy dirt beneath my right foot sinks, making me get stuck and fall flat on my face. I was expecting to trip this time, not get caught in a trap.

Then as I try to get up, I hear a small grunt from above my fallen self. A hard object slams into the back of my head, knocking my back into the sand as I attempt to stand. I see stars and black spots waving in my eyes. The damn red demon dwarf fucker hit me.

I look up to see it smiling with a wide mouth and flared nostrils on its rough red skin. Then, it raises its cane again to presumably hit me once more. I hurriedly use my arm to pull my leg from the sinkhole that was misfortunately made just for me. As I hear the whooshing of air above me, I roll to my right to prevent another bonk to the head.

I slash my rapier in my right hand, just trying to hit the little demon and get it away from me, but my rapier hits its cane and gets lodged into it. The demon grins even further at me as I attempt to pull the blade from the cane without any success. Then, to make things even worse, I feel something stand behind me, just the presence of it putting the hair on the back of my neck up.

Letting go of the rapier and rapidly drawing my other serpentine dagger, I twist away from both of the things that are near me, just trying to take a breath. Fighting something that can control luck is, well, a pain in the ass. Feels like I’m climbing a muddy hill on a rainy night. Zero progress. Just keep rolling back down.

The other creature that was behind me makes me both breathe in relief and frustration. It’s a Bakwa, and not the big ol’ one either. Relief for the fact that it’s a devil I know, and frustration for the fact it means the others should be close nearby. But I don’t have time to spare a glance as the Bakwa presses me, using its long tendril fingers to rush me with more speed than I’ve ever seen in their kind.

That’s when I feel the wind. It's fast and on the Bakwa’s side. Of course, the wind could make these things move faster. They are light enough to stick to walls.

I react to the imminent Bakwa as I hear a commotion behind me and the rapid slapping of reins. Still, I have to focus on the greater threat. It’s unknown if the Nain Rouge will follow us or what it can do if we try to leave. So, it’s better if I kill it now.

Carefully, I strike at the Bakwa with my daggers, unwilling to let it touch me, for I’d rather not turn into a shell. My dagger sinks into the Bakwa as I see it visibly flinch and move ten feet backward. So, my daggers seem to work the best at dealing with these things. Good to know.

Using this opportunity where the Bakwa has fallen back, I push onto the Nain Rouge who hid behind as I hear the crack of a shotgun and pain blossom in my right ankle that causes me to instantly lose the leverage I need to run. Falling, I turn back to look as I yell.

“WHAT THE FUCK LEONARD!?”

Before I once again faceplant, I see that Leonard shot several Bakwas off of the wagon and I just happened to be about fifty feet behind them. Roughly the maximum range for his shotgun’s pellets to reach. He is continuing to attempt to push more off of the wagon as they move.

I grit my teeth and try to stand using my other foot before I take another bonk from the Nain Rouge’s cane. My world goes spinning as I fall back to the ground.

Trying to stand again, I keep slipping due to my dizziness and the constantly shifting slippery sand from my bloody foot. Then I feel something touch my back as it grows stiff, like when you sit too long in the same position.

Frantic, I turn and see that one Bakwa is grabbing onto my backpack and affecting me through it. I twist, trying to shake it off as just another comes and grabs onto my left arm. Then my left arm rapidly begins to stiffen. Dammit. I will not become a fucking shell!

I swing my daggers both in reverse grips to try and force these Bakwas off of me and it works. For a moment. My low position was due to my inability to stand up swiftly not allowing me to see how many approach.

I rapidly realize how many Bakwas there are around me as several long tendrils wrap around every limb of mine and I’m surrounded by cerulean glowing eyes and gray bodies.

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