Ray looked at the moon, which cast a pale light over the city streets.

It wasn't a warm light, but it gave him a sense of peace, a different kind of calm than he was used to.

The evening was slowly turning into night, and the chill in the air bit at his exposed skin.

He knew he needed answers, and the best place to find them a place where people gathered, where tongues were loose and stories flowed without much concern, a place where conflicts and rumors were a normal part of life.

The best place for that was a bar. Just across the street, a few steps away, a building glowed with rush of all types of people entering or exiting it

He walked toward it and pushed open the heavy wooden door and a sudden wave of sound and warmth washed over him.

The air was thick with the smell of cheap ale, pipe tobacco, and sweat.

Laughter and loud chatter filled the room, and the clinking of mugs on wooden tables created a noise which can't be replaced in modern times.

As soon as he stepped inside, a few heads turned his way, their eyes lingering on his Onyx mask.

His presence was an immediate question mark, but just as quickly as their attention was caught, it was lost again.

They went back to their drinks and their conversations, deciding that a silent, masked stranger wasn't worth their time.

Ray made his way to the bar, his eyes scanning the room, trying to take in as much as he could.

He pulled himself onto a stool and slid across the dark, worn counter.

A man with a thick beard and calloused hands was wiping down a mug. Ray sat across from him and asked for a beer.

The man gave a slow nod, placed the clean mug on the counter, and began to fill it from a tap.

"You're not from around here, are you?" the man asked, his voice low and friendly. "Your face is new here."

Ray simply nodded, deciding it was best to keep his answers short. "I came from another place."

"Oh," the man said, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Well, you're lucky to have reached here unscathed, especially with the news of people getting attacked even in daylight."

He had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed made it real.

He forced a nonchalant expression, pretending to know a thing or two. "Yeah, you can say that I'm lucky enough."

The man finished pouring the beer, a rich, dark liquid with a thick head of foam. He placed the mug on the counter in front of Ray.

"That'll be 10 bucks."

Ray had been so focused on acting the part of a seasoned traveler that he had forgotten a crucial detail: he had no money.

He had never needed it in the first place, where all transactions were handled by the system. He pretended in a spike of panic.

He put his hand in his pocket, pretending to search, before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Shit! My pouch..." he trailed off, hoping the act was convincing enough.

The man looked at him for a long moment and then shook his head, a wry smirk on his face.

"Seems you were mugged by those thieves in town." He chuckled, but there was no malice in his eyes. He pushed the mug a little closer to Ray.

"This one's on me. Just think of it as a treat for a new guest. Just make sure you don't lose your coins next time."

"Thanks, I'll pay you when I return," Ray said, removing his Onyx mask for the drink.

He pulled the filled mug to his mouth and took a long sip with a satisfied grin.

He set the mug down with a soft thud and gave the man a grateful nod.

"Oh, by the way," Ray began, his tone casual as he looked at the man.

"How is the situation here? I just saw people killing a woman in broad daylight, while calling her a witch. Do they still believe in such nonsense?"

The man's casual, friendly demeanor vanished in an instant.

He looked at Ray with a hard, serious gaze, his voice dropping to a low, warning tone. "Keep your voice down if you want to live here," he said.

"Those people were from the big houses. If what they say is the rule of this place, then it is."

Ray felt a jolt of surprise, but he was familiar with such a system.

The world he came from had its own rules, and those with wealth and power always had the first and final say.

He lowered his own voice, matching the man's serious tone. "So, such things still happen here? The place I came from, there's no such thing."

He was telling the truth, talking about the world he knew, while the man just nodded and assumed Ray must be from the capital or some other big city.

The man sighed, a weary sound. "Well, we can't blame them completely, especially since this world is infected by night creatures that you can't be sure if there's a beast behind the mask of a human."

Ray agreed with him. He had just received skills that proved this wasn't an ordinary world. "I guess you're right," he said.

Ray then spent a few minutes asking about the attacks in the area.

The man answered with a few small incidents, nothing too major, but he did mention that a pack of werewolves had attacked a group of travelers in broad daylight last week.

He spoke with a sense of relief, mentioning that the holy knights stationed here had dealt with the threat quickly.

The man spoke of the knights with a reverence that was both comforting and strange.

Ray saw his next goal. He asked for the knights' stronghold, and the man readily told him.

"It is on the other side of town, a large stone building with a symbol of a golden cross." Man gave him exact location.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Ray said, his voice sincere.

He finished his beer in a few long gulps and set the empty mug on the counter with a soft thud. "And thanks for the information."

The bartender wiped his hands on a rag and nodded. "Just be careful out there, kid. The night belongs to them, not us."

Ray simply gave a nod in return and left the bar, the cold air hitting his face again.

His destination was now set. He had to find the knight stronghold and find a way to get more information about this world.

He walked away from the bar and into the heart of the town, his mind was filled with many thoughts.

As he walked, he began to make mental notes of the things he had understood so far.

This world has Vampires and Lycans, which are clearly on the dark side, while there are also humans who wield holy power, which he could consider to be on the light side.

Then there were hunters and civilians, like those in this city, who couldn't be trusted.

Their actions and beliefs made it impossible to properly guess if they were on the right side or the wrong one.

With these thoughts spinning in his head, he headed toward the knights' stronghold.

…

The building stood apart from the others, a massive stone structure with a commanding presence.

Etched into its front was the symbol of a golden cross, a stark and simple sign of what it represented.

Inside the stronghold, the atmosphere was thick with frustration and anger.

A small group of knights was gathered, and in the middle stood a woman, her hands clenched into tight fists.

She paced back and forth, her face a mask of furious disappointment.

"Dammit," she cursed, her voice low and tight with emotion.

"They burned an innocent woman, and we couldn't do anything about it."

Her frustration was obvious. She was a knight sworn to protect the innocent, but due to restrictions and orders from higher-ups, they couldn't lift a finger to save that woman.

A middle-aged knight with a brown Mustache sighed, his face weary but resigned. "You know we can't take action on civilians, especially when the crowd was already convinced that the woman was a witch.

Stopping them would have serious repercussions on us unless we had a priest-level person from the holy temple with us to make a formal judgment."

Ray, oblivious to their chatter, came closer to the stronghold.

The air around the large stone building was thick with a tense stillness that was quickly broken by the two soldiers standing guard.

They saw an unknown person coming towards the knight stronghold, and they immediately raised their voice, stepping to block his path.

"You! This isn't a place to venture, especially at night," one of them shouted, his voice a stern warning. "Leave!"

Ray didn't slow his step. He kept walking, his eyes fixed on the golden cross above the heavy doors.

Seeing that their warning had no effect, the soldiers became more alert, raising their voices even louder with pointing their sword, as they repeated their command to stop.

The commotion carried into the stronghold, alerting the four knights inside.

They ran out, their armor clanking with each step.

As they saw a lone man in a dark jacket, ignoring the guards and walking straight toward their stronghold as the two soldiers yelled for him to stop.

"Who is that!" one of them asked.

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