Chapter 62

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Don’t you sense it yourself? To eight forsworn.”

Ak-kvir got a whiff of the air. The skull shined in the light of the moon.

“Forsworn? A good hunt. Will you manage them?”

“Don’t even hope to get nine bodies,” I retorted, and the beast took off.

He was much faster than the swiftest of horses. He raced like the wind, as if piercing the distance, and I wasn’t surprised when we stopped before a forester’s hut.

Eight horses were tied to a hitching post, and it seemed deadly quiet inside. Judging by the look of it, the house was inhabited.

Yet... Ak-kvir sucked in the air, passing it through his fangs with a whooshing sound.

“Blood...”

We found the master of the house behind the shack, crucified on a tree. His hands and feet were nailed to the trunk, and his chest was bound with a rope that supported part of his weight.

They hadn’t wanted him to die quickly. They had wanted to make him suffer. The templars believed that agony helps executed sinners reach the Bright abo