"Milord, all the goods are packed," Steward Karim reported, dressed in proper cloth robes but with a thoroughly sullen expression. No one rejoiced at entering the Northlands. They stood atop the city walls, gazing into the distance, yet saw nothing but gray mist stretching to the firmament—only gray mist.
He had considered fleeing, but Field offered him no opportunity.
Slave-soldiers like Mountain Cat, corrupted by coin, had become Field's fanatical loyalists. Karim could guarantee that if he so much as tried to run, those damned lackeys would kill him instantly, and Field would reward them with a silver coin.
*Damned lackeys*, Karim cursed inwardly. *Selling their souls for money, throwing their lives away.* That was the nature of slaves: give them a sliver of hope and preferential treatment, and they'd offer their lives.
"Ah, Milord..." Karim hesitated, casting several glances at Ashina before he finally asked, "That slave... apologies, I mean Lady Ashina... is she truly the God's Chosen? Are you certain she isn't deceiving us? Could she... perhaps demonstrate a miracle?"
To bolster morale the previous night, Field had gathered everyone and announced the presence of the God's Chosen.
"Do I need to prove it *to you*?" Field snapped coldly, his brow furrowed as he glared at the steward. He stopped Ashina as she began to summon her giant wolf. "Perhaps *you* should lead this expedition, and *I'll* be *your* steward? Though I doubt you'd survive the Empire's purge." This disloyal steward had been nothing but discouraging. If not for the fact he was one of only two literate people, Field would have gladly demoted him to stablehand.
*Time to put him in his place.*
Karim felt the pressure instantly. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. He gulped, "Uh..." and fell silent.
His master seemed a completely different person. Perhaps the pressure from his family was too great? That must be it. After all, Karim himself dreaded entering the Cursed Lands; a pampered noble like Field surely detested it even more. Karim's thoughts became a muddled mess.
"No objections? Then we depart!"
Field lit the mist-dispelling lamp. Priced at twenty-five gold coins apiece, every minute it burned felt like throwing money into the fire.
Gritting his teeth, Field stepped into the Northlands Province. Instantly, all sound, all sense of living things, vanished. An oppressive silence took its place. Lifting his head, Field saw the oppressive, deathly gray mist surrounding them—eerie, silent, blotting out even the sun. Lingering here too long induced the terrifying illusion of being deep underwater. Even Field felt tension and fear coil within him, let alone the slaves.
If not for the protection of the lamp—and Field's announcement about the God's Chosen—they would have surely lost their minds by now, charging blindly into the gray mist only to be corrupted into monsters.
The ground was covered in reddish-black, writhing "tentacles"—corrupted plants. Though harmless, they tangled around the wagon wheels.
"Damn, it's like Silent Hill," Field muttered, forcing himself to remain calm. He walked at the head of the column, letting them see him, guiding them forward, trying to impart courage. *If the life-loving nobles are here*, he thought, *what reason do they have to flee?*
"Screeeech..."
"Grooowl!"
Bizarre cries echoed constantly from within the gray mist. The lamp illuminated only about a hundred paces ahead, while the roars came from much farther away, leaving everyone feeling utterly exposed.
Ruined walls and broken buildings lay everywhere. Dried, shriveled heads impaled on rusted spears littered the ground. Field even spotted a faded Griffin banner—the Empire had sent many colonization legions here. They had all died, becoming excellent "locals."
*Gulp.*
Field swallowed hard.
"Milord, step behind me," Ashina warned, her crimson eyes alert, fixed on a point ahead and to the right. "Monsters approach."
Soon, a corpse missing half its face staggered into view within the lamp's glow.
*Thwip!*
Ashina drew her bow. A streak of silver light sliced through the air.
The corpse's head exploded like a watermelon. The body tumbled twice and lay still.
"Careful! More are coming!" Field's mini-map lit up with a swarm of skull icons. Discovery meant stealth was pointless. "Form the wagon wall! Archers, loose!" he yelled, abandoning any attempt to whisper.
At Fort Karshan, Field had acquired eighty crossbows and a hundred Imperial longbows. Sadly, only two or three slaves knew how to shoot a bow properly. Fortunately, crossbows were easy to use, so he'd armed twenty crossbowmen.
The monstrous cries grew fiercer, accompanied by the thudding of countless feet. A dense tide of corpses surged towards them, emerging from the mist into the lamplight. Though Field's map showed the enemy positions, their sheer density forced an immediate confrontation.
"Dammit, fire!" Field shouted, but the slaves were already loosing their bolts, hands trembling.
*Thwip! Thwip!* The front row of corpses slammed into an invisible wall as seven or eight fell instantly.
Ashina, meanwhile, stowed her bow. Summoning her giant wolf, she charged into the fray. Though only a first-tier God's Chosen, her power far surpassed any mortal.
Her longsword danced like a butterfly. Corpses fell one after another beneath her blade—heads severed, bodies crushed by the dragon-wolf's claws. Plunging deep into the densest part of the horde, she commanded the wolf to spin, spewing fire like a flaming tornado. Surrounding corpses were incinerated to ash.
"She... she really *is* the God's Chosen?" Karim rubbed his eyes, disbelief etched on his face.
Ashina bore the brunt of the assault, yet the tension didn't ease. The limited visibility caused by the mist, and the relentless tide of corpses pouring forth, exerted immense psychological pressure.
"Kill!" Mountain Cat roared, thrusting his halberd with all his might at an oncoming corpse.
Three or four halberd points plunged into a corpse's chest, then jerked upwards, flinging the body aside like a sack of rags. More corpse-fiends crashed into the line of slave guards where Mountain Cat stood. Fists and claws rained down on shields and scale armor, producing a cacophony of metallic *clangs*.
"Huh? What's flying over?" Field noticed a fast-moving skull icon on his map, now directly overhead. Without hesitation, he threw himself from his horse—being the only one elevated was dangerous.
He barely steadied himself before a rush of wind assaulted his senses. He hadn't even had time to look up.
"Above you!"
Field instantly ducked, whipping out his sword and stabbing upwards. In that fleeting glance, he caught sight of a bat-woman.
Hairless and eyebrowless, its face was grotesque. While possessing female form, its arms were leathery bat wings, and its legs ended in sharp, hooked talons.