The Record of Unusual Creatures
chapter-1187

Chapter 1187: Story

Pierre may have been an amateur in the field of magic, where even the weakest vampire looked down on him. But when intelligence-gathering and historical-secret collection were concerned, Pierre was an expert who was just as good as Nangong Sanba. Human beings had a strong sense of curiosity, and the relatively weak physique of the spirit detective drove him to focus on intelligence-gathering. Before Pierre came to the village, he had done a lot of homework. In the two months of being trapped there, he never stopped studying the ancient books he had brought. It was during this period that he made more findings than Hao Ren could ever imagine.

The noise in the village square was still loud as the celebration seemed to continue past midnight. The strange villagers did not seem to worry about someone fleeing the village. Probably they had some other ways to monitor the borders of the village. Hao Ren was surprised that up until now, no one came to check out the longhouse. “I thought they would have monitored us very closely.”

“Who are they monitoring? You or me?” Pierre shook his head. “Their modus operandi is predictable. There seems to be no loophole to get us out of here, but studying their regular routines carefully, you will find some means of escape. They generally do not watch newcomers too closely for fear that it would raise suspicion. After all, those who have just entered the village still possess a considerable degree of free will. If the villagers behaved too abnormally, it would cause a series of problems. And as you stay longer in this village, which would influence you subtly, you would begin to accept and agree with it. You would feel like not wanting to leave, and even forget where you are from, and why you are here. By then, the villagers will use the rules of the village to control you, and you will gladly accept it. At last, you would become walking dead. You think that you belong here and even born here. You would have a false memory, thinking that you grew up in this village, and are destined to die in the village. Until then, all traces of the outside world on you will be eroded. You will wear their clothes, stand in their ranks, and yes, you will become a ‘villager,’ just like the ones you have seen during the day.”

“You mean the villagers are trapped here?” Vivian was surprised.

“If my findings and conjectures are correct, that should be the case,” Pierre said, nodding gently. “When I first came here, I found signs of ‘transformation’ on a few villagers, who had the tattoo of the King of Rock and Roll on their skin. But after a month, these tattoos were gone. They became thoroughly ‘villagers.’ The village head, Winston, probably came in this way.”

“It is akin to holding a candle for the devil,” Vivian said as she scratched her chin.

“There is only a fence outside the village.” Hao Ren looked outside the window. From his view, he could see the edge of the village. The tattered short fence was visible here. “Have you not tried going out? In theory, the villagers are no longer able to escape, but you could have made it out.”

Pierre knew what Hao Ren thought. He smiled and shook his head. “That’s impossible. No one can cross the fence. The other side of the fence is still the village. I have tried it many times. There is magic here. But you guys may try.”

Hesperides frowned. “It was still normal when I came here three hundred years ago. What has happened here?”

Pierre quickly looked around carefully, as if what he was going to say would attract the evil spirit in the dark. He lowered his voice and said in a mysterious tone of voice. “According to my findings, it involves an ancient family who was performing some evil witchcraft ritual.”

“A family? Witchcraft ritual?” Hesperides froze. She had long been suspecting that what happened in this place only involved Hercules and the divine artifact; it never crossed her mind that things could be so complicated. “So, what did you get?”

“The earliest record was more than two hundred years old.” Pierre closed the window and lit up another oil lamp in the house as if by doing so, it would repel the dark forces in the surroundings. “Back then, the village was only a small village, remote and poor, hidden in the densest part of the forest. There were no bad rumors, and the towns outside the forest had occasional contacts with the village. Later, a lonely aristocratic family moved here. This family, exiles who lost their power and status but wealth in the French Revolution, settled in a small town outside the forest. But the town residents quickly resented and was hostile to this family, which felt their lives were in danger.”

“Why?” Vivian chimed in.

“Because of witchcraft. Even people returning from other places had terrible comments about this family. There were many such aristocrats because of the turbulent times, and life became precarious, they began to seek some less legitimate spiritual sustenance and strength. I couldn’t find these records in the official historical records, but there was evidence from many secret documents. The abjected aristocrat who moved here was very addicted to witchcraft, and his family was even more addicted than other families. They were fascinated by witchcraft for a few generations. Compared to those who could only carry fake magic books and shout around a bonfire, this family had real magic know-how.

“Because of this reason, this aristocratic family, losing its power and status, was resented by the town’s residents and risk being sent to the guillotine. So they could only move out of the town, resettled and built a house somewhere between the town and the forest village.”

“In the forest? How happy!” Vivian’s eyebrows arched. “And then what?”

“There have been multiple versions of what happened afterward. Some people said that the family summoned the devil out from their basement and the devil destroyed the town outside the forest and cursed the village in the forest, while some said the family patriarch was crazy about witchcraft and became a devil. But my findings are more inclined to the third version: a powerful magic item was hidden in the forest village, and the aristocrat migrating here was actually after the item. He and his family deceived a hermit in the village, stole the divine artifact from him, and tried to obtain the power of the divine artifact. The hermit, when discovering that he was deceived, came alone to demand back the divine artifact. But the aristocrat deceived him again, pretending to return the artifact, but tried to kill him with poisoned wine. At last, the hermit, weak from drinking the poisoned wine, fought with the aristocrat, who lost and killed himself by burning down his house together with all his family members and the hermit. But the hermit escaped with the help of the power of the divine artifact.”

Pierre paused. Only now, his story came to a vital point. “The hermit who escaped the fire returned with the divine artifact but died in the village. His anger before he died polluted the magic item. Then the magic power of the ancient times instantly leaked out and cursed the entire village. I guess what the hermit willed was to ‘let no one take anything from this land,’ but the curse had distorted his will into ‘let no one escape this land.’ That’s all about my findings and speculation.”

When Pierre finished, Hesperides nodded with her arms crossed. “I am afraid that your guess is indeed the closest to the truth, but only one thing is unlikely— the ‘hermit’ is not some ordinary humans could defeat.”

Pierre was wide-eyed, realizing that these people before him might know some truths. “Do you know who the hermit in the story is?” he asked with his eyes wide opened.

“We are here to find him,” said Hao Ren. “He was called Hercules.”

Pierre froze for a few seconds before exclaiming, “Hercules, the one accepted the 12 labors in the ancient Greek mythology?”

“I think the 12 labors were freaking unfair. They were almost torturing. I had reflected this issue to Zeus, but there was no use; Hera was behind all these.”

There was a strange look on Pierre’s face when he heard, for the first time, someone was telling the ancient myth from a first-person perspective. He had not quite gotten used to it though what Hesperides said was not a bluff.

“Anyway, Hercules is indeed missing,” Vivian said, scratching her chin. “It seems that the crux of the problem lies with the aristocrat family. They must have touched something that should not be touched, causing the power went out of control. Pierre, do you know where the family’s former residence is?”

“Outside the village,” Pierre replied, pointing to a direction. “It is not far from here. The forest has reclaimed the ruins of the old house, but I guess the main structure of the house should still be there. After all, it was an aristocrat’s house, built with stones and ancient concrete. I know the key to lifting the curse should be there, but unfortunately, I can’t get out.”

“We will go there,” Hao Ren said and stood up immediately. “Space and time distortion here would not be able to stop us.”

“You’d better wait until dawn,” Pierre said. “At that time, there will be some changes in the village.