Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

Rod politely declined the innkeeper's subtle offer, which hinted that for just one more gold coin, a more intimate "conversation" could be arranged.

Though the innkeeper was still quite the charming and alluring woman, with her mature beauty and seductive figure, Rod had more pressing matters to attend to tonight—like his exorcism task.

He simply didn't have the energy to indulge in any "deeper conversations."

The innkeeper, clearly disappointed, had hoped to hook such a wealthy, strong, and handsome adventurer. But Rod had no time for distractions.

After settling his simple belongings at the inn, Rod made his way to the tavern, where he ordered a drink.

The quickest way to learn about a new place was to spend time in a tavern.

While most adventurers were full of tall tales and exaggerations, every now and then, one could pick up some useful information.

"Have you heard? The king's invited a famous tailor to make the most extravagant suit for him, all the way from the Northern Kingdom."

"It's just a suit, what's the big deal? You should be more worried about Jack. Rumor has it he's been spotted near the towns around the Kingdom of Hamann."

"Jack the Ripper? That psycho who enjoys slaughtering young women?"

"He's worse than that. Didn't you hear? He wiped out an entire congregation in Walnut Town—priests, monks, nuns, everyone at the Holy Church. Killed them all."

"Gutted them, strung up their corpses like ragdolls inside the church. The guy's a monster."

The mere mention of Jack's crimes brought a chilling silence over the once-rowdy tavern.

"I heard the Holy Church has put a massive bounty on his head. They've sent out inquisitors, demon hunters, monks, and even a cardinal, to hunt him down."

"With that much muscle on the case, Jack's as good as dead."

Rod swirled his drink thoughtfully, intrigued.

A serial killer brazen enough to challenge the Holy Church?

That was a death wish if ever there was one.

In this world, the Church wasn't just a place of spiritual solace.

The Holy Church worshiped the God of Radiance, a literal, divine being.

Half the population of the Northern Kingdoms, as well as the Holy Roman Empire, were devout followers of this God.

Murdering an entire church congregation wasn't just a crime—it was an act of war.

The Holy Church would be out for blood, and it wouldn't stop until it had avenged its people.

The Church's forces—the Order of the Knights of Punishment, the Inquisitors, the Iron Cross Legion, and the Monks—were all fanatical warriors, skilled and unwavering in their devotion.

In this world, the Church's power rivaled that of kings. Even emperors required the blessing and acknowledgment of the Pope to ascend the throne.

Seeing that there was no more interesting gossip to overhear, Rod tossed a gold coin onto the counter and prepared to leave.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

A middle-aged man, wearing a black leather coat, pushed open the old, creaky doors and slowly walked in.

His hair was gray and curly, and he wore black gloves on both hands. His half-bare chest beneath his coat was covered in dark tattoos, and a silver cross pendant hung from his neck.

At his waist was a sharp longsword, and slung over his back was a gray crossbow.

His eyes, which faintly glowed red, scanned the room, and everyone in the tavern immediately lowered their heads, avoiding his gaze.

"One rum," the man said calmly, sitting down at an empty table and placing a silver coin on it.

"A demon hunter."

"Why does he look so familiar?"

Rod, who had been about to leave, suddenly became intrigued. Instead of walking out, he sat back down.

"It has to be him. That's the Holy Church's cross insignia, and those exorcism tattoos mark him as a demon hunter. Plus, that's the Holy Church's demon-hunting crossbow."

"Did you see his eyes? People who deal with demons too much end up like that. I heard if a demon hunter kills too many demons, their eyes turn fully red, and they become demon converters."

"A converter's soul gets corrupted by demonic power. They go insane and kill indiscriminately, worse than demons themselves."

Hiss!

Several adventurers who had been drinking quickly moved away, as though they'd seen a ghost.

If this guy lost his mind, they didn't want to be in the splash zone.

"Relax," one of the braver adventurers scoffed. "Hunters that become converters are locked up by the Church. They only release them when they need to go down fighting against powerful demons."

"Anyone left roaming outside is safe."

Even so, no one dared approach the man in the leather coat. Even the server who brought him his drink trembled nervously.

The man, however, seemed used to this reaction and paid no mind to it, sipping his rum in silence.

"What's your name?"

Rod got up and walked over to sit next to the man, curious.

"You're not afraid of me?"

The man raised his head, giving Rod a puzzled look.

"I've seen scarier things than you. You don't even come close."

Rod wasn't concerned. Even if the man had turned into a demon, Rod could still deal with him.

He pulled out a gold coin and tossed it to the tavern owner.

"More drinks. On me."

"Right away!"

The tavern owner's eyes lit up, and he moved with renewed enthusiasm, almost like he was energized by the sight of gold.

"My name's Rod."

Rod lifted his drink.

"Van Helsing."

The man paused before raising his glass.

"Van Helsing?"

Rod's eyebrow arched. That name sounded awfully familiar.

"You've heard of me?"

Van Helsing looked surprised. Though he had some fame, it was mostly within the demon-hunting circles.

"Your reputation precedes you."

Rod shrugged, choosing not to elaborate.

What was he supposed to say? That he'd watched a movie with him as the lead?

"Strange fellow."

Van Helsing muttered to himself, though he didn't seem to mind the odd interaction.

After a couple more drinks, Rod glanced at the sky. It was getting late, and it was time for him to go.

"I've spotted traces of a demon near the Kingdom of Hamann. If you have nothing better to do, you should leave this place soon."

Van Helsing's voice was quiet, and Rod almost didn't catch it, even though he was sitting right next to him.

Was that his way of repaying the favor for the drinks?

"Thanks for the tip."

Without breaking stride, Rod pushed open the door and left the tavern.

Van Helsing shook his head. He had said what needed to be said. If the guy didn't listen, there was nothing more he could do.

Demons weren't to be trifled with.

Especially not this one.

By the time Rod left the tavern, the sky had begun to darken. There were still one or two hours before sunset.

As he walked back toward the inn, Rod suddenly stopped.

Looking around the empty street, he kept his usual nonchalant smile.

"Van Helsing, your mouth really is as cursed as a crow's."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Support the Translation! 🌐✨

20 Advanced Chapters are currently available in Patreon, make sure to visit and support our team.

patreon.com/Immortal_author

https://ko-fi.com/immortalauthor

https://discord.gg/KscfBegBPT