Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 508 Fear

The Holy Grail Order has broken free from last night's ordeal.

It was almost a miracle that they didn't lose a single person. Their leader, Saisu, claimed that the team began to retreat as soon as they realized the danger, and that the protection of the militia contributed to this miracle.

The battlefield that night was in complete chaos because the commander-in-chief had been lost. The demon worshippers' magic and illusions cut the main force into several scattered pieces, making the scene even more chaotic. Everyone was busy surviving or not being captured, and no one had time to observe the situation of the Holy Grail Order, so for the time being, no one could stand up and expose them.

Only the members of the Holy Grail Order know that they did not escape back on their own, but were released.

Back at the house where Bassé entertained guests, César and his entourage once again became honored guests, spared the harsh realities of the magnificent building.

Judging by the time, those who were resurrected by the magic cauldron last night should be dead by now. Saisu didn't want their relatives and friends to come and question him about this matter, or pester him for further treatment.

How does he know how to resurrect someone who has died twice?

Saisu was young, and this was his first important mission in the cult, so he valued success or failure very much.

It's unbelievable! I really don't know why the higher-ups would respond to the call of these mortals. Even if they rented the Demon Cauldron to them, they still ended up in utter defeat. In my opinion, such a wondrous object of such high level should not be allowed to be used by mortals. Even if this Demon Cauldron were just casually thrown away, a sect that regards it as a sacred object might emerge in a few years.

Leaning on his staff, Saisu paced back and forth in his room for a while. Hearing a knock on the door, he stopped and spoke impatiently:
"Come in."

The man who entered was an ordinary-looking male servant, wearing a white shirt and a red vest.

Saisu remembered this man; the Holy Grail Order had lived here for a while, and this servant had been in charge of delivering messages from the beginning.

What is this person doing here?
The familiar servant entered, turned around, closed and locked the door, then looked up and uttered words that made Saisu's face change drastically: "You should keep your promise, Mr. Saisu."

"The same to you?!"

As soon as Saisu raised his voice, he consciously suppressed his throat to avoid others hearing the conversation taking place.

"We are everywhere." Despite being just a lowly servant, he could still show immense pride when talking about the association he belonged to.

In Weaudi, besides the Winged Serpent, only the Witchcraft Society is qualified to say this.

Saisu glared at him unfriendly. Even though he knew the man was a member of the Witch Demon Society, there were too many members in the Witch Demon Society. The man was at most a nobody, a mouthpiece. In his eyes, he was not qualified to speak to him as an equal. His loss of composure just now was a disgrace.

“You should have come to visit me after my business was finished. Coming here now will only implicate me.”

"You only need to worry about your companions; everyone else here is under control."

The servant stepped inside, but was blocked by Saisu raising his long staff: "I can't give you anything confidential, and even if it's knowledge that's publicly available, you'll have to pay for it, and you'll need an identity that can be recorded on paper to be my client."

An identity that can be recorded on paper means that the Witchcraft Society must send a wealthy believer to make a deal with the Holy Grail Order. If the matter is exposed, the person's identity as a member of the Witchcraft Society will also be exposed. The servant turned his head to look at him: "You were spared your life last night, but the conditions you offered are still so harsh?"

Saisu sneered: "Stingy? I'm already being lenient by doing business with you. You are the most despicable beings in any civilized land. You have no conscience or shame, and you can't possibly have any kindness. You let me go just to do business with me. Since the purpose is to trade, don't treat this as a favor."

These words enraged the servant, whose face turned red, even black.

Most members of the Witchcraft Society are like this; after experiencing a sacred marriage, they are more prone to a surge of blood and qi, no matter where it goes.

Despite his anger, he didn't forget his duty: "You can rest assured that this transaction will be conducted by a third party and your cult, and it will not involve you in any way."

"Anyone who would dare do business with you?" Saisu looked at him skeptically. "They're not some other demon worshippers, are they? Then there's no need to add another hand."

"She is a prophet; you will surely be interested in her."

The servant paused for a moment: "The reason you are here is related to her."

“Then it sounds like she has a grudge against me,” Saisu said without thinking.

"On the contrary, she has done you a favor if you wish to make a name for yourself in the order immediately." The servant said no more, turned and opened the door and left.

Saisu stood there for a moment, lost in thought, and began to miss his "good friend" Julius.

The only prophetess he could think of in Weiodi was the one from the Temple of Truth, and these prophets were not easy to deal with. Besides, dealing with the Witchcraft Society was too risky; simply contacting such infamous figures would lower one's own standing. Julius also understood a bit of prophecy; if he were here, he might be able to offer some good advice.

Just as he was wondering whether he should ask Julius for help, Julius himself was playing a chase game at the border between the West End and the North End.

Two figures moved quickly on the dimly lit street.

It might not be as bizarre as the chase between the werewolves and the shadow warriors, but it was just as thrilling. "Haiser, my good friend! Stop for a second!" Julius shouted as he chased after the man ahead, panting heavily. The feeling of near exhaustion was exhilarating for the first time.

The traffic jam strategy worked, and he finally caught Hazel waiting in the North District.

In a one-on-one situation, he proved that he was better than his opponent!
Heiser, who was being chased, looked disheveled.

To be honest, Hazel is physically stronger than Julius, and he is absolutely confident that he can defeat Julius if they face each other head-on.

But Julius has a gun.

"That bastard!" Hazel thought painfully, his strong body still trembling slightly after approaching the werewolf. The fear instilled by the superior predator struck his flesh directly, severely affecting his physical condition: "He runs much faster than before, but he never used to exercise. And the Ironfinger Wizard is even using a gun. Is he not planning to use witchcraft anymore?"

There is an unwritten rule among wizards: if one wizard wants to defeat another, they must either use cunning and trickery to have their opponent killed, or they must fight each other using magic.

The gun barrel is of course made of steel, and with a gun nearby, any spellcasting by a wizard below the copper ring will be interfered with.

However, since it's just the two of them here, even if Julius doesn't follow the rules, as long as he dies, no outsiders will know this.

Without giving any answer, Hazel continued his sprint.

He had certainly called for help, but because the fighting last night was too intense, the people in this area either fled to churches or other church shelters to spend the night, or remained huddled in their houses, indifferent to any sounds, which meant that his cries for help went unanswered.

The only way to get rid of Julius's threat is to run.

Hazel exercises regularly, so the distance between the two has always been less than fifty yards, but as he works harder, that number begins to increase.

Julius's flintlock pistol had an extremely large caliber and was clearly a smoothbore gun. This type of gun was a common choice for duels because it was difficult to hit targets at a distance, allowing for a true test of courage and luck. (Using a rifled gun in a duel is against the rules.)

The only reason he still had a chance to escape was because Julius wanted to close the distance; if the shot didn't hit him on the first try, Hazel wouldn't give him another chance.

"Haa... I can't run anymore."

After another seven minutes of intense fighting, the distance between the two remained unchanged. Finally, Julius's exhausted voice came from behind. Heiser heard the footsteps behind him stop, but instead, a sense of fear began to creep in.

This guy is pulling out a gun.

Of all places, it has to be here!

Hazel's eyes quickly scanned the area in front of him from left to right.

The street was lined with rows of houses on both sides, with no corners to be found. To get cover, he either had to retreat or run another fifteen yards. But both of them slowed down considerably; running fifteen yards wouldn't take much longer than walking.

The two were still less than seventy yards apart. Although the distance was theoretically far enough, as long as Julius could use a little bit of the Soul Reaper's magic to enhance his thinking speed while being restrained by Iron, he could complete the aiming step faster and better, which would definitely make up for some of the shooting accuracy.

“Haiser, ha... I want to ha. Let’s take a gamble, shall we?” Julius spoke again. He was exhausted to the extreme, but his tone was also extremely excited, with a hint of evil.

This was not the Julius he knew before, and he had a bad feeling.

Hazel doesn't gamble, never has, and has no intention of gambling now.

So he froze.

He raised his hands, stopped running, and entrusted his fate to his old classmate.

On the quiet street, the sound of Julius's limping footsteps and his panting were clearly audible.

As the sounds drew closer, Hazel felt a sense of impending death. Due to the immense exhaustion, the nighttime streets before him swayed like reflections in water, resembling a scene from a picture book, a kind of magical realm.

He'd rather beg for mercy than die like this.

Even if he were to die, Hazel would die in the spotlight.

"I don't think there's any deep-seated hatred between us, is there?" He had saved some energy and could still form complete sentences.

Julius, panting, pressed the gun against his back: "Ha. You schemed against me, I remember. Besides, you even wanted to kill me."

“Julius, having an idea and putting it into practice are two different things,” Hazel argued. “I dare say that back in the academy, everyone thought about how to stab or poison our principal, but no one actually did it.”

"That's true."