At the southern edge of Autumn Dusk Island, the ruins of a castle stood on a towering cliff by the lakeshore.
Within the cobwebbed and bug-infested broken walls, a small bonfire flickered, and the air was thick with summer night's dampness.
The leaping flames cast light and warmth, gradually brightening five weary faces.
One of them clutched his shoulder, blood slowly seeping through the gray cloth bandaging the wound.
In an attempt to remove the fragments embedded in his body, he had enlarged the wound nearly twice its size, but some splinters remained lodged between muscle and bone, unable to be extracted.
"Curse this devilish lightning rod!" Aijia Lang, pale-faced, took small sips of a low-strength rice wine to suppress the pain.
"I told you, the moment you see that screaming lightning rod, run quickly, or the evil spirit will devour your flesh. See, it happened." Favalari, the leader of the Demon Hunters, sat down after silently putting away his herb pouch.
