Chapter 15: Demonic Possession

“Woof! Woof!”

Two black-furred guard dogs leaped and barked excitedly on the sandy ground before the barn, their thin iron chains rattling.

“The fire wasn’t my doing—it was Emo the hunter.”

Nolan was temporarily confined in the Village Chief’s unused barn.

Due to his injury, he wasn’t fully bound, only his right hand tied to a post.

“Cyril, that’s just your side of the story. Emo’s wife clearly pointed to you as the arsonist,” the Village Chief said gravely, leaning on his cane, flanked by two burly farmers acting as guards.

“For how many years? Our Lotte Village has never seen such a vile incident.”

“Emo’s wife didn’t even see what happened!” Nolan protested loudly.

“She was in her room until the fire grew big, then she ran out screaming!”

“Then tell me why you were in Emo’s house!”

The Village Chief slammed his cane on the ground, demanding.

“I was trying to steal those gray jackal corpses—” Nolan said after a pause.

“Because Emo dragged them to his house to skin them, but I only wanted to take the corpses. How could I burn them right in his home?”

“Then how did the fire start?” the Village Chief pressed.

“By your account, why would Emo set fire to his own house?”

“It was like this—” Nolan lowered his eyes, recalling last night.

“I snuck into Emo’s house, looking for the jackals, and found my way to his warehouse.”

“The warehouse door was open, so I peeked inside… and saw Emo. He… he wasn’t right.”

“Not right?” the Village Chief frowned.

“Don’t give me vague nonsense—”

“I’m not lying! At first, I didn’t recognize him—thought a beast had broken in. Emo was draped in a jackal pelt. When he turned, I realized it was him.”

“You’re saying Emo was wearing a jackal pelt? What was he doing in it?” the Village Chief asked, stunned.

Nolan’s face showed a strange expression.

“What? Speak!”

“He was…” Nolan stammered.

“He was wearing the pelt, gnawing on the jackal corpses like a beast, his mouth full of blood, his belly swollen. Then he saw me, mumbled something I couldn’t catch, and threw an oil lamp at me.

He missed, hit a pile of dry straw, and it caught fire.”

“Go on…”

Nolan thought, then continued.

“I saw the fire start and tried to grab a water jar by the door to put it out, but I couldn’t move it alone. Then Emo came toward me.

I thought he’d help, but he swung at me. I dodged, and somehow he smashed the jar. The fire grew, and I had no choice but to run out and call for help. Emo never came out.”

“Utter nonsense, unbelievable—”

The Village Chief, shocked by Nolan’s tale, took a deep breath, then turned to the villagers beside him.

“You… heard that. What do you think?”

“Last night, Nolan did go door-to-door waking people,” one villager said.

“But Emo’s wife said she saw Nolan start the fire…” another added.

“So… the ones who died… were Emo’s old mother and maybe him?” the Village Chief mused.

“Not certain—” one villager replied.

“We only found his mother’s body. Emo’s is still missing… his wife escaped.”

“Did his wife really say she saw Nolan set the fire?”

“She said… well, not exactly,” the villager hesitated.

“She said, ‘I just knew it was Nolan.’”

“Bring Emo’s wife in to testify,” the Village Chief decided.

Soon, a disheveled woman wrapped in a wool blanket entered.

“Yes, it was him! Who else? Sneaking into our house at night to steal! Caught by my husband, he got angry and tried to kill us to cover it up! Chief, you must deliver justice!”

Emo’s wife let out a piercing scream, her venomous glare practically burning through Nolan tied to the post.

“What exactly happened last night? If you don’t explain, how can I judge?” the Village Chief said.

“Oh, what’s there to say? You know, yesterday, my husband and this little brat argued over those pelts. That night, my husband said he worried the boy would do something bad, so he slept in the warehouse.

See? Sure enough, this vicious dog came and killed my husband!”

“So, you’re going by what Emo said, not what you saw?”

“Oh, who else but this brat—sneaking into my house at midnight for good deeds? Chief, you have to stand up for me, or how will I live—”

The Village Chief exchanged glances with the two villagers.

They escorted the cursing, sobbing woman out, urging her to rest.

“Emo’s wife didn’t see it herself, so it’s hard to say,” one villager remarked.

“See? I told you, I didn’t start the fire,” Nolan said, shaking his head.

The Village Chief sighed, looking at Nolan.

“Don’t think it’s over. You’re still the main suspect.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… this old man will write to Baron Lokart to send a magistrate. Until then, you stay locked here,” the Village Chief said after a pause.

“I understand,” Nolan said, lowering his head.

“What about… my sister? How is she?”

“She’s waiting outside,” the Village Chief coughed lightly.

“Now you think of family? Why didn’t you consider your kin before doing something stupid?”

“I’m sorry, but I felt I had to do it…”

“For those jackals?”

The Village Chief shook his head.

“Right… you mentioned a gray-haired girl you took in told you to do it?”

“No—” Nolan shook his head.

“At first, I used her as an excuse, but I thought it over. Destroying those corpses was my choice, not hers.”

“Why?” the Village Chief asked.

“No real reason, just a feeling—those jackals chased me that night. They felt… terrifying, not like normal beasts. I felt I had to burn them to ashes to feel safe,” Nolan said slowly, choosing his words.

“A feeling… just a feeling?”

The Village Chief pondered, then looked at Nolan.

“Cyril, you’re twelve this year, right?”

“Yes…” Nolan replied, confused why his age came up.

“Kids can speak freely, but a twelve-year-old is half an adult and must answer for their actions.”

“I understand…” Nolan nodded.

“For now, stay here. Your sister will bring food.”

The Village Chief gave Nolan one last look, then left the barn.

Nolan watched the wooden door close, darkness settling over the room.

***

“Sounds like some kind of demonic possession…”

In the church, Mr. Berly, hearing the Village Chief’s account, looked thoughtful.

“What do we do about this…” the Village Chief asked.

“The priority—is finding Emo,” Berly said after a moment.

So that’s how it is.

Kritiya sat hugging her knees under the church’s side window, letting me overhear the Village Chief and Berly.

By rights, Kritiya shouldn’t be here, but I knew why.

She got lost.

I think she meant to find Nolan and Diya, but she didn’t know the way or how to ask villagers for directions.

I could only watch her wander the village for half a day, ending up at the conspicuous church.

She just happened to catch Berly and the Village Chief talking—

I listened closely to the church’s conversation.

Berly spoke.

“If it’s really demonic possession, I can write to the nearest temple for Holy Light monks to perform an exorcism.”

“No… let’s hold off,” the Village Chief said hesitantly.

Berly studied his expression, realization dawning.

“No need to worry. I know some reasonable folks, kind-hearted shepherds. I can ask them specifically, and they won’t drag others into it.”

“No—you don’t get it…” the Village Chief muttered.

“If it’s the temple’s people, that’s manageable. We’d gladly pay whatever offerings they ask, but church rules say if an evil incident is confirmed, we’d face monthly inspections for two years. We… can’t afford that…”

Berly fell silent.

Such routine inspections wouldn’t involve Holy Light monks but likely lesser priests, some corrupt and greedy.

“So… is there another way…” the Village Chief said.

“Hm…” Berly thought.

“If it’s truly evil at work, the problem lies with those gray jackals.”

“So, who killed those jackals?”

Berly asked.