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It turned out that Clet was a water path arcanist, someone who specialized in controlling and shaping water for both offense and defense. Lionel, on the other hand, was an illusion path arcanist—his strength lay not in direct battle, but in support. His illusions could confuse enemies, distort perception, and give his allies a small edge when things went wrong.
Aldric was sitting quietly inside his assigned carriage, the same one he had shared with the trio since the start of their journey. The rhythmic sound of wheels turning against uneven stone had almost become a part of his breathing.
Clet sat opposite him, arms crossed, his fish-scale armor glinting faintly under the dim lantern light inside the carriage. Lionel leaned casually beside the window, the flowing golden robes he always wore slightly wrinkled from travel. Adrian, meanwhile, sat nearest to the door, silent as ever, his body clad in that old iron armor that seemed to have weathered countless battles.
The group talked about meaningless things—rumors about the trade cities, how bad the food had become over the last few days, and the occasional complaint about how long this trip was taking. Their words filled the silence and helped them ignore the anxiety that came with traveling through the Blood Fang Mountains.
All of them except Adrian.
He didn't join in. His eyes, though hidden beneath his helmet, were distant. He seemed to be lost in thought, his posture stiff but controlled. Aldric noticed it but didn't say anything. Everyone had their secrets, and this wasn't the time to pry.
After a while, Lionel broke the silence. "Hey, Adrian," he said, glancing at the bottle of water near the armored man's feet, "mind handing me that?"
Without a word, Adrian picked it up and threw it lightly toward him. Lionel caught it, uncorked it, and took a long drink. "Thanks," he said between breaths.
The moment seemed calm—almost peaceful.
Then came the explosion.
It was deafening. A violent roar split the air, followed by a shockwave that tore through the ground beneath them. The entire carriage shook violently. Aldric didn't even have time to react before he was thrown upward, slamming hard into the roof.
The wooden walls cracked, the floor splintered, and in the next moment, the carriage was no longer on the ground.
It was in the sky.
The whole thing had been blasted upward, spinning uncontrollably. The world turned into a blur of motion and chaos.
Adrian was the first to regain his senses. The man moved instinctively, his years of combat experience kicking in. His body tensed as his aura flared faintly around him. He tried to brace himself against the spinning carriage walls, searching for stability.
Aldric and Clet reacted moments later. Clet's hands glowed faintly blue as he tried to summon water from his artifact pouch, but the violent motion made it impossible to concentrate. Aldric's heart pounded in his chest. His body moved on instinct alone as he reached out, trying to grab something—anything—to hold onto.
Lionel wasn't so lucky. The explosion had struck closer to his side of the carriage. His golden robes were scorched and torn. He coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth as the force of the blast left his body limp. His breathing was shallow—barely there. His illusions flickered faintly, like dying candlelight, and then vanished.
He was alive… but only barely.
The carriage continued its wild ascent before gravity finally took over. It began to fall.
Aldric felt the rush of air slam against his face as he was thrown out through one of the shattered walls. His body spun uncontrollably in free fall, the cold night wind cutting against his skin.
And then he looked down.
What he saw below nearly made his heart stop.
There, on the valley floor, was something massive. Something wrong.
A creature sprawled across the ground—a giant black moth. Its body stretched nearly thirty meters long and its wings easily ten meters wide. Each beat of its wings created powerful gusts of wind that roared through the valley. But it wasn't just wind.
The sound was like the wailing of suffering souls, the faint cries of countless unseen voices, rising and fading with every flap. It made Aldric's skin crawl and sent a chill deep into his bones.
But even that wasn't the worst part.
The horror came from what rested at the top of the moth's body—where its head was supposed to be.
Because it wasn't the head of a moth.
It was the head of a woman.
Pale, human skin. Soft features twisted into something unnatural. Her mouth was sewn shut with thick black threads, the skin around it cracked and stretched. She had no eyes. Instead, her empty eye sockets were filled with black larvae, each the size of a finger, writhing slowly within.
When disturbed, some of the larvae crawled out, sliding across her face, only to squirm their way back into her sockets moments later.
The sight was grotesque—an abomination that defied reason.
Even from the sky, Aldric could feel the oppressive presence it emitted. His mind screamed at him to look away, but he couldn't. There was something magnetic about the horror—like the more he looked, the more his body froze in fear.
The moth's wings flapped again, the cries echoing louder.
The gust caught Aldric's falling body and spun him midair. His stomach churned as the ground rushed closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Clet and Adrian also plummeting from the shattered remains of the carriage.
Adrian's iron armor glinted briefly before he vanished into the darkness below. Clet's figure twisted midair as he tried to use his water arts to cushion the fall, summoning faint ripples of liquid energy around him.
Aldric grit his teeth, trying to focus his mind. His body screamed in pain, his heart raced wildly, and his ears rang from the explosion—but even through all that, one thought repeated in his head.
What is that thing?
The monstrous moth spread its wings once more, and the sound of countless voices crying out echoed through the mountains. The ground below cracked and shifted, and an overwhelming aura of death and decay began to spread upward.
Aldric could feel it reaching for him, like invisible hands dragging him down.
And then—
He fell straight into the darkness below.