DEMON HUNT

Chapter 56: Hail Omero.

At last, another day comes. As dawn approaches, a figure approaches a large wooden gate, riding a white horse. The gate seems to be the only entrance to the sizable amount of fenced territory behind it. As the rider approaches, the horse slowly moving towards the gate, torches light up on the city walls. It's the remnants of an old city, well hidden by dense forests and unfriendly hills. The watchtowers on the city walls are well manned, the area near the gate now lit up, improving general vision of the area.

The rider is covered in a black hood, making his face hidden. As he reaches the gate, he lowers his hood. The rider is Omero. At the sight of him, the large gates immediately open, allowing him to steadily ride into the city. There's a bag balanced horizontally on the horse, just behind Omero. He enters the city, the gates closing behind him. There's a large number of spectators; their curious blue eyes providing cogent evidence that they're not humans. The crowd divides into two, creating a path in the middle as Omero rides past. Whispers and mutters are palpable in the air, as numerous questions are posed. Omero stops his advance as he reaches a prominently dressed individual. He alights from the horse, standing in front of the demon with his blue eyes.

The demon has a tattooed head, shaved at both sides, with a braided middle row. Two black lines take off from his forehead, and lead all the way down to his chin. He's a figure impossible to miss.

After two minutes of uninterrupted staring, the tattooed demon hugs Omero, squeezing tightly, and speaking with a loud voice.

Frey: My son has returned!

The crowd bursts into cheers, as the atmosphere erupts. Jubilant celebrations suddenly begin, but Omero appears to be indifferent to them. He taps Frey twice on the back, causing him to break the hug. Frey places his hands on Omero's cheeks, passionately staring into his eyes. He speaks softly.

Frey: How long has it been? Eighty years?

Omero: Eight four. It's been eighty four years.

Frey turns his attention to the horse and the bag on it, withdrawing his hands from Omero's cheeks.

Frey: A white horse...how suiting for a prince.

Omero: I like horses. They can't tell the difference.

Frey: Or maybe they can and just don't mind?

Omero: Highly improbable.

The crowd quietens down. Omero and his father have just met for the first time in more than eight decades, and yet it feels like there's not much to talk about. Their conversation runs dry in a matter of minutes. Frey brings up the inevitable subject matter.

Frey: If you're here, then I suppose you completed your mission, guardian?

Omero gives a slow nod, pointing to the body bag he had strapped to his horse.

Omero: The prophesied reincarnation of the destroyer has been slain. I was hoping things could go differently, but it's a fool's dream now.

Frey: You should rest, my boy. I'll see to the rest. Whether you call him a reincarnation or not, he's still, to me, just a vessel. Skylar will extract the destroyer's essence...the power, and seal it within me.

Omero suddenly turns to his father, in shock. He's quick to oppose the idea.

Omero: No, Skylar will seal every last bit of him in the void. Forever lost to time and space. This is the plan!

Frey laughs, completely surprised by Omero's naivette. Frey shakes his head slowly.

Frey: It's strange...I heard you were regarded as the smartest among the mundanes. Why would I simply let all that power go to waste? Nothing...No one would dare stand in my way. I'd instantly be capable of turning all hunters, all opposition, including that meddling so-called new Oragonian state to dust. Everyone will bow before the power of the Hōlē.