White River City was built along the banks of the White River, a source of water that flowed year-round. Thanks to its abundant freshwater fish and fertile soil, Duke Theodore had opened vast lands for farming, turning the city into a thriving agricultural and trade hub.

The city was protected by two layers of defense: the outer city wall and the inner city wall. The inner wall housed nobles and important administrative buildings, while the outer region was home to commoners and slum dwellers. Despite the disparity, the roads were well-maintained and constantly patrolled to uphold law and order. Wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side, these roads bustled with merchants trading goods daily.

Inside the castle, Duke Theodore sat in his study, visibly aged and lost in thought. The death of his eldest son had left a deep scar, and now he stared at letters detailing the actions of a man named Aaron. To his shock, Aaron was the same person who had rescued Maria, daughter of Duke Augustine, and won the hand of Alice, daughter of Duke Alaric.

The masked men who had attempted to capture Maria were none other than Theodore's own secret guards. He had deployed them during a period of declining health, hoping to secure leverage through political maneuvering. But everything changed after his son's death.

Consumed by grief and rage, Theodore had personally traveled to Green Fort and entered the Savannah Mountain Range to retrieve his son's body. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, the corpse had already been devoured by monsters. Before he could return, he was attacked by a plant-like creature hidden in the dense fog. The monster struck from a distance, and if not for his strength as an Earth Knight, he would have perished.

Though he survived, the poison from the attack remained in his body. Unable to cure it, Theodore was forced to suppress it using his knight energy. This experience pushed him to devise a desperate plan of capturing Duke Augustine daughter Maria and kill him in surprise attack. If successful, he could petition the King to retain his title and territory for his second son. Eliminating one of Riverbend Kingdom's Earth Knights would also rebalance power and prevent war.

But all of it, every step of his plan, was ruined by Aaron. Just thinking about it made Theodore's blood boil. He coughed violently, and moments later, stared at the blood-stained handkerchief in his hand, his eyes filled with gloom.

He then turned his attention to another letter lying beside the reports.

It read:

"Duke Theodore, I hear age has begun to weigh on you. I offer you a proposal, join us in serving the greater cause of this world. To do so, you must prepare a sacrifice of ten thousand souls. In return, I shall petition the Great Lord to purge the poison from your body. If you accept, come to the riverbank at midnight, when the moon is directly overhead."

As Theodore read the letter, his expression darkened. He knew exactly who had sent it, a member of the cult that worshipped devils and summoned demons through mass sacrifice.

His first instinct was to tear the letter apart. But after a moment's hesitation, he folded it carefully, placed it inside a wooden box, and locked it away.

He leaned back in his chair, weary. By his estimation, he could suppress the poison for another five years at most. But if he couldn't find a cure within the next two years, he might be forced to consider… the unthinkable.

A desperate measure. One that would stain his soul forever.

Aaron returned to camp, the massive horned rabbit slung over his back. Along the way, he briefly considered dumping the corpse but then remembered the tribe needed monster bones to forge weapons. So he pressed on.

At the gate, two patrolling guards were stunned. Lord Aaron had returned, carrying a monster.

One guard immediately ran to inform the chief, while the other remained at his post, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Chief! Lord Aaron has returned, with a monster corpse!"

Chief Khumba, puzzled, stepped out. By the time he reached the gate, a crowd had already gathered.

Torvald was poking the rabbit's face, "Aaron, how did you kill this thing?"

Aaron stretched and replied calmly, "With an arrow, of course."

Torvald chuckled and patted his own head, "Indeed."

Rumba stood silently, stunned. He saw only a single arrow lodged in the rabbit's skull, no other wounds. He took a deep breath, realizing the creature had been killed in one shot.

Khumba examined the beast and immediately recognized it. "Lord Aaron, this is a horned rabbit. My father told me its racial talent is speed, so fast it can rival a peak Tier 2 monster."

He looked at Aaron with newfound respect. "And you killed it with a single arrow… That proves your strength."

Aaron waved his hand, "Can we use its bones to make weapons?"

Khumba nodded, "Of course, Lord Aaron. We certainly can."

Aaron felt a sense of relief in his heart. But Khumba, still focused on the logistics, asked, "Lord Aaron, what should we do with the meat? Ordinary people can't consume it.  Only those with knight-level strength can eat it safely, and knight apprentices can only handle small portions."

Aaron responded quickly, "Can't we store it?"

Khumba looked puzzled. Seeing this, Aaron gently patted his head and turned to Torvald, "Torvald, how much salt have we produced in the last few days?"

Torvald replied, "Around ten kilograms."

Aaron nodded, "Good. I'll teach you a method to preserve meat for a long time. It's called salting."

The people nearby exchanged confused glances. They had never heard of preserving meat, to them, it was something that spoiled quickly.

Torvald asked, "Aaron, how long can we store it? Three days? A week?"

Aaron thought for a moment, "If we follow the process carefully, we can store it for up to a month. But I'll need brine water for it."

He knew the salt they had might not be enough, or it could be used, but it would consume the entire supply.

The crowd's eyes widened. Their expressions were filled with disbelief, as if Aaron had just revealed a secret of the gods.

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