We were on the first quest, having coincidentally ended up in the southern plains. The man had requested our presence, and his house lay close by—a decrepit structure infested with rats. Fermented vegetables and scattered wheat lined the edges of the rotting plains, giving the place a sickly, decayed air.
The stench was unbearable. Adam wrinkled his nose and muttered, "Ugh… are you smelling this?"
Karrin blinked, confused, trying to process the foulness. "What? The only thing I can smell is… the weird stench of you, or maybe that man. Well, something like that. Everything else is faint… or maybe nothing at all." He frowned, struggling to explain.
Adam sighed, wishing he had such a sensitive nose. The thought of being able to detect things so vividly—so viscerally—lingered as he inhaled the stench again, shaking his head.
"Come on," he said, forcing himself to focus, "let's concentrate on getting that gold."
The man pointed toward his house, a ramshackle structure that looked part barn, part shed. Its windows were crudely carved from wood, the walls made from logs, and the darkness of night swallowed it whole. The firelight had long since gone out.
Adam's suspicion rose. "Hey… where's your wife?"
The man hesitated. "She should be at the waredressing house by now… probably knitting something from cotton or wool." He looked at me blankly. "But… she ought to be coming back soon."
Time passed as we prepared ourselves. The man handed us a fire lantern, explaining that it had cost him a small fortune. Adam couldn't help but think, with a wry, absurd humor, why this world ran on gold, like isnt gold very rare? In his mind, a gold coin felt as arbitrary the same as a dream coin from Manori.
We drew our rusty swords—Karrin matching my readiness—and stepped inside the house. The lantern's light revealed a simple interior: a wooden table, a small campfire, and a bed tucked away in another room. Dusty bags lined the walls, their contents long forgotten.
The backroom door creaked open, and what I saw nearly made me recoil. A grotesque, three-foot-tall anthropomorphic rat, its oversized hindquarters and primate-like posture grotesque, lunged at me with sharp teeth bared. Fear struck deep. I could get a disease from that—rabies, something worse…
But Karrin moved without hesitation. A swift kick, a slash, a stab—and the rat fell dead.
More came, each stranger and fouler than the last. Some were furless, others riddled with leprosy or rot. I could barely stand the stench, let alone the sight of them.
"What the—" I started, then swallowed hard. "What the duck is this disgusting?"
Remembering what Karrin did i imagined myself surging out a power that is welling inside me...
I lunged a ball of darkness from my right hand. It surged forward, striking one rat after another, killing them without leaving a mark the rat died as if it had a natural cause of death. The effort drained me, exhaustion pressing into my bones, but all I could think about was not being bitten. Not catching some disease in this nightmare of a room.
Karrin tore through the horde with a manic intensity, slashing and stabbing without care. I almost vomited at the gore—the severed tails, torn flesh, lifeless bodies piling at our feet. His strength seemed to grow with every strike.
I thought fleetingly of setting the place ablaze. The tangled mass of rats, the overpowering stench of death—it was tempting to erase it all with fire. Each rat fell easily under our blades, yet the horror never stopped.
Flickers of blue light from the rats began seeping into me. A strange rejuvenation, a sensation of growing stronger and faster, coursed through my veins.
Time blurred. Karrin's eyes glowed a manic, furious red as he surged forward, ignoring danger, ignoring disease. His teeth sharpened, his movements brutal and animal like. Light blue energy flickered along his body, pulsing with each kill.
Hundreds of rats fell. I walked beside him, muttering to myself, "Once I finish this… I'm taking a vacation. With comrades. Anywhere but here."
Karrin paused, panting, refilling vials of blood again and again, his face a mixture of hunger, thirst, and confusion. "I had to finish it quickly," he admitted, embarrassed. "Seeing all that blood… it made me erratic."
Adam nodded silently, raising his hands toward the exit. "Well… figured. Let's get out of here."
We emerged from the basement, the air thick with the stench of death and rotting vegetables, and returned to the man.
"Hah! You did it!" he said, grinning. "I knew I could count on you."
Karrin's voice cut in. "The reward?"
The man handed over coins, no tricks, no schemes. His wife arrived then, greeting him with mild exasperation.
"I told you to finish it before I got home!" she scolded, carrying baskets of bread and linens. "At least you didn't wait around—doing it all yourself, careless as ever." Her long brown hair fell over her gray medieval garments, and she patted him lightly on the head, leaving him red-faced and embarrassed.
With our bag of a hundred gold coins in hand, Adam and Karrin headed toward the southern gates. Soldiers manned the barricades, and Adam felt a twinge of envy for that simple, domestic life they seemed to enjoy. For a moment, he imagined it—peaceful, stable, the comfort of a wife and quiet home.
He glanced at Karrin, whose expression was unreadable, and sighed. Together, we continued toward the gates, weary and silent, the horrors of the southern plains still clinging to us.
I walked behind Karrin, my footsteps quiet, the shadows stretching long and twisted as fog rolled over the southern path like a living thing. The mist clung to our boots, to our clothes, to our breath.
A soldier suddenly stepped forward, spear raised right to our faces. Adam instantly threw up his guard."Hey—careful with that thing."
"Yeah…" Karrin muttered, too tired to care, too drained to argue. He just wanted this over with, wanted the next quest, wanted the day to end.
Another guard sprinted up, out of breath. "Yamiyo—stop. These are the strange nomads Michael let through the other day. That's them. Howard said everything was fine."
Yamiyo clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, the metal of his round helmet glinting under the torchlight. "I hate that old man. Always being careless with fools like this." He paused, pointing a finger at us, his tone shifting. "Forgive me, good sirs… I'm guessing he didn't tell you?"
Karrin's eyes narrowed. "Tell us what?"
The other guard shifted awkwardly behind Yamiyo, fiddling with his spear. "There are ghouls near the southern gates. If you really came from the Pines, then… lucky you." He struck the side of his own helmet in frustration. "Wait—no. Not lucky. Your village got destroyed. I'm sorry. I mean—what I'm trying to say is, even someone like you should understand the dread of what's beyond those gates."
Adam glanced around, trying to recall any memory of a ghoul. Would it be like the head‑twisted, humanoid creatures from the forest? Or like those malformed beings he'd met at Minori's circus? Whatever it was… something in him stirred—fear mixed with curiosity, and a blade‑thin thrill."So," he said, "are you going to let us through?"
Yamiyo shrugged with a defeated look fidgetting with hit leg stepping on the ground. "I don't know why I'm doing this… but if you get hurt, it's not on me..." As he had a faced of worry being on a grumpy looking face.
Adam's think for a bit of the law of this world... Of how ghouls could have been created or how or where they come from?
He signaled the other guards. The barricade creaked as the heavy gates were pulled open. And then—
A skinless, hairless human‑shaped creature, teeth jagged and eyes burning yellow, burst forward like a starved animal. Its limbs twitched unnaturally, its flesh clinging like dried parchment to brittle bones.
It lunged straight at us—scrambling up the wall. Yamiyo intercepted it with the shaft of his spear, but another ghoul sank its teeth into his shoulder before he even had time to scream.
"What are you staring at! Run!" Yamiyo roared, shoving the creature off.
He slashed again—the blade carved deep into the ghoul's shoulder—but the wound healed instantly, skin knitting together unnaturally fast.
More shapes burst through the fog, dozens, maybe more, scrambling like a starving swarm. Soldiers screamed, clashing with them, spears shaking as ghouls climbed over each other like insects to breach the wall.
Adam froze for an instant. Karrin did too.Someone dying right in front of them—again—the flash of the Witchmaster's massacre flashed across their eyes.
"Hey—wake up!" Adam grabbed Karrin by the shoulders, shaking him hard. "Do you really want another disaster happening in front of you? Snap out of it!"
The fog shook as they moved.
Rusty sword in hand, Adam slashed at the nearest ghoul, aiming for the joints—just like he used to do in the old world. Bone cracked, flesh split, and the limb tore free under the blow.
Beside him, Karrin fought in a frenzy—stabbing, biting, channeling darkness.A sphere of shadow erupted from his hand and slammed into a ghoul, staggering it but not killing it. Bats materialized in the air, wings beating the fog as Karrin commanded them to dive at the horde, tearing into their decayed flesh.
Through the chaos, Adam spotted Yamiyo collapsing. He sprinted toward him."Hey—are you okay? Stay with me, man!"
Yamiyo coughed, blood dribbling from his lips, one eye already rolling back. His eyelids fluttered, turning white."D‑dammit… at least I die with some glory… right?"
Adam let out a weary, broken sigh. "I… guess?"
"May my God reward me… for the next life…" Yamiyo whispered. His body slackened against the ground, unmoving, breath fading to nothing.