We followed, gear clinking. Mira locked up the cabinet and trailed after us, though Ren gently insisted she remain at the village gate. "It might not be safe beyond the wards," he said.
She didn't like it, I could tell—she wanted to help—but she relented, on the condition we'd be back by sundown. Fair. We promised, then headed out through the north gate, where two guards let us pass with anxious nods.
The birch grove just beyond the village was eerily quiet. No birds chirping, not even insect buzz. Just the soft crunch of our footsteps on wild grass and the whisper of leaves. The river's bend was visible ahead—a lazy stream reflecting the orange glow of late sun. It was peaceful… superficially.
I felt it the moment we crossed what must have been the old boundary of battle. A cold prickle on the nape of my neck. Not outright wrong-mana like defilement, but something heavy in the atmosphere, like walking into an old churchyard at midnight.
Leo paused too, taking a measured breath. "Residual spiritual pressure," he murmured. "A lot of death happened here."
Ren scanned the ground. There were faint shapes of old trenches or earthworks long overgrown. He crouched and pressed a hand to the soil, eyes narrowing. "Ground's soft here. Recently disturbed." He pointed to an area near the riverbank.
We approached and sure enough, the earth was less packed. Almost like something had dug or shifted underneath. My first thought: more tunnels. But it wasn't quite like the narrow burrows we closed; this looked wider.
Leo took out a small pinch of the ash from a pouch and sprinkled it in a circle on the ground, muttering an incantation. The ash glowed faintly. After a moment, it gathered itself and all blew in one direction—inward toward a single point before settling.
"Yep. That's a cavity," he confirmed. "An underground space or tunnel."
"Big one," Ren said. He tapped lightly with his foot and the ground gave a dull hollow thump. "Could be an old bunker or… a crypt."
Crypt. I didn't like the sound of that. Too many bad things start in crypts. "Think our necromancer's hiding down there?"
Leo frowned thoughtfully. "If he's smart, he'd stay outside the wards in a place of power. A crypt where hundreds were buried might be exactly that. He could be amassing an army under our noses."
Well, that ramped up the urgency. Ren was already circling, looking for an entrance. His keen eyes found something at the base of a crumbling stone, half hidden by ivy and moss. A gap, just big enough to slip through if you turned sideways.
We gathered at the entrance. Stale air wafted out, carrying the scent of rot and something else—like ozone, maybe? Hard to place.
"Stay alert," Ren whispered. He drew Dawn's Edge; the golden blade cast a soft light into the dark gap. Leo and I followed, me with one bracer raised (ready to zap), him clutching a ward scroll in one hand.
We slipped inside. It was a tight, sloping passage descending into the earth. The walls were lined with stones that looked like they'd been placed there ages ago. This was definitely a constructed tunnel, not a natural cave. Probably an entrance to the very battlefield grave or an ancient shelter.
As we crept forward, I was acutely aware of my heartbeat echoing in my ears. The tunnel stretched about twenty paces before opening into a chamber. Ren silently held up a fist—stop. We stopped.
He sniffed the air. Then he pointed two fingers at his eyes and gestured left and right, indicating he sensed something on both sides of the chamber ahead.
I squinted, trying to adjust to the gloom. There was faint light—Ren's sword gave some, and an unknown phosphorescence made some rocks glow greenish. Enough to see shapes. Two hulking shapes, one on each side of the chamber, near the walls.
They were standing still. At first I thought statues. Then one moved, a jerk of an arm. Not statues—guards.