All around him were the mutilated corpses of demons and people, with only a few living people left who were searching the piles of bodies for survivors. "Did... did I do all this?"

"Yes... You did... It was unbelievable watching you tear them apart with your bare hands like that. I've never seen anything like it..."

"Is Corkus okay?" Casca looked down at the ground, choking back tears. "He was one of the first to die. I'm in charge now."
"Dammit. I can hardly believe my eyes. I've always thought that there was no such thing as spirits, I mean, it has to be bullshit, it just can't be real."
He gestured at the gore surrounding them.
"We need to regroup, and then we'll have to concoct some kind of plan to get to the bottom of this. We can talk about feelings later."
And with that Casca walked off giving further orders to the men she walked past along the way to the few intact tents left from the camp.

There was enough time before sunlight left, but after what had happened no one was in the mood for sleep, and they all kept each other up crying, talking, and getting drunk, while Guts laid on the grass a good ways away, looking up at the stars.

"I still can't believe any of this happened." Guts jumped a bit, having not realized that Casca had come  up to him. 

"Do you have any idea why it is?" Guts slowly got up from the grass, wiping off the dew. She nodded. "One of our former members, Griffith, was fascinated with demonology, even though must of us thought he was crazy."

"What his role here?"

"Before he left, he lead the Knights, but at some point he became so obsessed with Hell and demons that he left, saying that he needed to devote all his time to his research."

"And you think that he might have an idea on why this is happening." Casca sat down on the ground. "We've been searching for Griffith ever since they started appearing, but now we need his expertise more than ever."