The next day, just like when he was in Auridon, Lann woke up in the village elder's house.
But unlike the situation in Auridon where it was just a disturbance by a Water Ghost, this village harbored an evil presence that attracted Netherworld Dogs. Lann did not let himself conduct the usual [Deep Memory Dive] when he slept last night.
Early in the morning, before the sun was too high, Lann had already geared up and walked onto the fields that had been abandoned for two years.
The fields were not far from the village, you could even turn around and see the smoke from chimneys rising, at most seven or eight hundred meters away.
A disturbance by a daytime Demon Spirit at this distance could indeed scare the entire village senseless.
In the opposite direction, about half a kilometer away, was the edge of the Brokilon Forest.
"Alright, let me see..."
Lann, without hesitation, stepped onto the dried and cracked field in his steel-plate boots.
A 'crack' sounded as dry clods of earth shattered underfoot.
The field, abandoned for two years due to monsters, was not overgrown with weeds.
Clearly, water wasn't lacking here, with the forest not far away. Yet the field felt perpetually drought-stricken.
"Supernatural forces, without a doubt."
Lann muttered, first squatting to pinch a clod of hardened earth, then standing up to survey the surroundings.
Beyond the fields was lush grass.
He walked for a while and came to the side of a corpse in the field.
He was the only victim, a widower. He had died when the Demon Spirit first appeared two years prior, and no one had dared the risk to collect his remains since.
Exposed to the wilderness for two years, he should have been reduced to bare bones.
Yet now, his dried, desiccated muscles and skin clung tightly to his skeleton, his clothing and the condition of his body seeming more eroded than decomposed.
If Lann had to describe it... it was like something freshly excavated from a pyramid.
The dehydration techniques for pharaohs' mummies weren't half as good as this.
Lann, maintaining a calm expression, pulled out the Dragonbone Dagger, and started to carve into the dry, brittle body with 'cara-cara' sounds.
"Muscle dissolution occurred before death, he was forced into extreme physical exertion, leading to muscle fiber breakdown... Danced to death by the Dance of the Demon Spirit?"
The tip of the Valerian steel dagger peeled back the dried skin like parchment, revealing the remnants of muscle within.
Lann's biochemical knowledge easily identified the signs of muscle dissolution.
All signs pointed to the presence of a daytime Demon Spirit.
"Mentos, retrieve monster data, I remember daytime Demon Spirits don't stray far from their remains?"
Lann half-squatted next to the body, but his gaze began scanning the ground for traces.
"Sir, daytime Demon Spirits are not confined to their remains. According to records, they linger due to resentment left at the death site. This may not necessarily be a burial ground, but it certainly is a crime scene."
"Thanks for the correction."
Lann acknowledged Mentos's correction in his mind, while on the other hand, trying to use his extraordinary senses to catch any clues from two years ago.
Though it seemed unrealistic, he had to try.
As Lann lowered his gaze to search, the temperature in the field began to slowly rise like a frog boiling in a pot.
The steam from the ground, entangled with the cold winter air, distorted and blurred the light.
The pupils of Lann's cat-like eyes started to narrow as he looked down.
The sharp sound of a blade unsheathing. Lann abruptly drew the Lady of the Lake's Sword from his waist, slashing horizontally behind him!
A sound like cloth tearing through the air followed.
The floating figure in mid-air was slashed across the chest by Lann's Lady of the Lake's Sword, but as it was not in a material form, it caused no effective damage.
So despite being caught off guard by the speed of the slash, it simply floated backward.
After the horizontal slash, Lann turned his body, facing the 'floating object' head-on.
Like a half-charred body pulled from the fire, with tattered clothes and flesh.
Its hair floated as if underwater, the entire lower jaw missing, a putrid long tongue dangled from its throat.
——Daytime Demon Spirit!
Once it fully manifested, despite the windy winter, Lann felt his mouth dry up.
"It isn't completely invulnerable, otherwise it wouldn't have dodged just now."
If an ordinary Demon Hunter confronted a Daytime Demon Spirit for the first time and saw that their slash had no effect, they might start to panic and subsequently lose calmness.
But Lann's eyes narrowed slightly, maintaining his composure.
Mentos and his own observations soon noticed those easily overlooked details.
The Demon Spirit seemed incompatible with the material world, its outline blurring the surrounding environment into shades of grey and white.
As if its art style was in conflict.
However, when Aron Dite cut across, although the Demon Spirit appeared undisturbed, the path the long blade traveled visibly lost its grey-white hue.
It hadn't reverted back to normal since.
The Lady of the Lake's Sword's [Demonbane] attribute was not for show; its underperformance stemmed from its inability to make contact on the material plane.
"A normal slash can harm it, though the efficiency is dismal."
Lann quickly assessed the situation.
The crazed Demon Spirit screeched, charging toward the Demon Hunter.
Sidelining with a nimble step, Lann dexterously dodged the direct assault.
In the process, he swiftly repositioned himself, gripping Aron Dite with both hands high above his head.
[Iwami Style·One-Character Slash]! The rightful source is NovelHub(.)net
With a "bang!" sound, the sword technique-induced airflow reverberated in a roaring crescendo.
However, upon striking the Demon Spirit, it felt no different from slashing through thin air, emitting a sound more akin to a weapon missing its target.
The rotting woman levitated, emitting a scream from her jawless throat, her decaying tongue flailing wildly.
A near-transparent spherical sound wave spread from her, expanding to a three-meter radius.
Within three meters, the intensity of this soundwave could inflict physical harm. Beyond that, ordinary people would feel nauseous just from hearing it.
But a Demon Hunter was not an ordinary person; they were created to combat monsters.
"[Yarden Magic Seal]!"
Standing just outside the substantial soundwaves, Lann composedly sheathed his sword, forming a series of hand signs toward the ground.
Violet magic glow-emitting runes emerged from the ground, forming a circle.
[Yarden Magic Seal], akin to a Magic Barrier, acts as a trap that hinders enemies within its circle and forces Demon Spirit-type adversaries to materialize.
The Demon Spirit's shriek ended, with the [Yarden Magic Seal] encircling it precisely.
What had appeared like a poor television signal now revealed its 'high-definition' corporeal form.
Maintaining a low center of gravity, left hand on the scabbard, right hand gripping the hilt...
The Demon Hunter fixed his cat's eyes on the Demon Spirit, gliding smoothly with a step, maintaining a Iaido stance, closing in on its body.
[Iwami Style·Ultimate Skill·Iwami Cross Slash]!