Edson and Holruf stood shoulder to shoulder in the shadows.
Before them lay a stone-paved alley, with the Calamity Lady's temple at its far end.
Usually, sewage and mud covered the place.
Even with the temple's few priests cleaning it every day, keeping it clean was nearly impossible.
But now?
Not only was it spotless, it was filled with devout people on their knees.
Every one of them looked utterly devout, kneeling with their hands clasped and murmuring prayers.
They seemed to have forgotten the wariness and disgust they felt whenever they passed this place.
"People always look out for themselves."
A trace of mockery appeared in Holruf's eyes.
As a Demon Hunter, he had experienced such things countless times, watching the same events play out with different people. Had the Demon Hunters' convictions not been firm enough, they would have crumbled long ago.
Still, they had their complaints.
Demon Hunters were not saints.
In a sense, they were merely a pitiful bunch themselves.
Who would willingly become a Demon Hunter unless they had lost something important?
Many Demon Hunter parents had even considered sending their children to ordinary families.
Unfortunately, none of them had gone through with it in the end.
They could not bear to part with them.
Blood was thicker than water, after all.
Besides, even in ordinary families, their children would face danger.
Aberrations and monsters were not picky eaters.
An encounter with them never ended well.
It was better to keep their children close and teach them enough skills to protect themselves.
Then, once they reached adulthood, they could decide.
Of course, almost every adult descendant of a Demon Hunter became a Demon Hunter.
Growing up surrounded by that life, the young always followed their parents' path.
Undeniably, some rebellious youngsters thought it was cool.