The damp vapor, tinged with the fishy scent of earth, blew straight at them.
Through the thin night fog, the hazy outline of Trout Town was already faintly visible.
Houses built on wooden stilts stood in an orderly scatter along both sides of the muddy road.
Amy stopped walking. The familiar entrance to the town lay right before her.
She turned to look at the young spellcaster beside her, her hands clasped somewhat awkwardly in front of her.
"Um..."
"7"
"I... I haven't had the chance to ask. How should I address you?"
"Galen."
"Mister Galen..." Amy softly repeated the name under her breath.
Though Amy had only left Trout Town two days ago, returning now made it feel as though a lifetime had passed.
She had spent the whole journey thinking it over, yet still could not believe that her aunt, who had seemed so gentle and kind—the confidante who, like her, had once had her heart shattered by a man—was actually a Hag.
Of course, she knew about Hags. Back when the town had still been jointly controlled by the merchant guilds, it was said that Elton, one of the guild's directors, had been bewitched by such a monster.
The more she thought about it, the more a chill crawled down her spine.
If she had not encountered this young spellcaster...
She dared not think any further.
It was not that she had truly developed any improper thoughts.
She believed she still loved her husband. Otherwise, she would not have been so utterly bewitched as to travel all that way seeking medicine.
It was just that...
She felt that, no matter who it was, if they woke to find themselves unable to move, surrounded by suffocating darkness, with Demonic Beasts shrieking outside amid a heavy stench of blood