The walk back into Eldenred was short, but the guild hall was already alive with noise long before the three reached its doors. The wooden structure loomed tall over the market street, banners fluttering beneath carved emblems of crossed blades and wings.
Inside, heat, voices, and movement spilled together in a familiar chaos.
Adventurers crowded round tables, boasting loudly about quests barely completed. Others argued over the request board, pointing at parchment slips as though their lives depended on it.
A pair of clerics hurried past carrying boxes of supplies, nearly colliding with a brawler polishing his gauntlets in the middle of the walkway.
Eliana stayed close behind Eswal, her fingers lightly pinching the edge of her robe to keep it away from muddy boots. Her expression was composed, but her eyes drifted around the hall with a subtle discomfort — the noise, the shouting, the clatter of tankards… all of it grated on her nerves. She wasn't here because she liked the guild. Only curiosity dragged her along.
Azar, on the other hand, looked completely in his element. He took in the clamor with a small, unconsciously warm grin — like he felt at home in the chaos. Adventurers laughing, arguing, showing off wounds… it was messy, loud, alive. And he liked that.
Eswal walked through the hall with a very different energy. No irritation, no shyness — just quiet purpose. He wasn't here to chat or linger. He wanted the mission, and then to get out before the guild's disorder rubbed off on him.
As they crossed the hall, a broad-shouldered adventurer with more bravado than good sense stepped into their path.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up," he sneered at Eswal. "Thought you'd be too scared to take real work."
Eswal didn't react — he simply kept walking.
Azar stopped, turning his head with a polite, almost curious smile.
"Why would you provoke Eswal of all people?" he asked lightly. "Did you lose a bet? Or are you just tired of keeping your teeth?"
A couple of adventurers nearby choked on their drinks.
The man bristled. "Watch your mouth, kid."
Azar tilted his head. "I am. That's why I'm using small words — so you can understand."
Laughter broke out across the tables.
The man flushed red, muttering something incoherent as he backed away, clearly unwilling to start a fight he couldn't finish.
Eswal walked past him without even sparing a glance, but Azar caught the subtle curve at the corner of his mouth — a tiny, hidden smirk quickly masked beneath his usual calm.
Eliana sighed. "Please stop bullying the locals."
"Hey," Azar said, hands raised, "I'm just providing public service."
The moment broke as a voice from the front desk rose over the noise.
"Eswal! You're back early," the receptionist called, pushing up her glasses as she spotted them. "The Guildmaster's waiting for you upstairs. Don't keep him waiting—he's been pacing."
"Understood," Eswal replied.
The three climbed the creaking stairs to the second floor, where the noise faded behind thick walls. At the end of the hall waited a heavy oak door carved with the guild's insignia.
Eswal knocked.
"Get in here already!" a gruff voice barked.
They entered.
The Guildmaster sat behind a desk that was entirely too big for his short frame. His beard was thick and braided, his eyebrows bushy enough to cast their own shadow, and his muscular arms looked like they belonged to someone twice his height. A half-human, half-dwarf — stubborn, loud, and dependable.
He pointed at them with a quill. "Took you long enough."
"Good morning to you too," Eliana said dryly.
"Hmph." He set the quill aside and leaned back. "Listen, I'll keep this short. We've got a problem."
Azar and Eliana exchanged a look.
Eswal stepped forward. "What happened?"
The Guildmaster tapped the desk with two thick fingers. "The outer forest. Supposed to be a safe zone for rookies. But lately… more missing reports. First townsfolk. Now adventurers."
Azar straightened. "How many?"
"Too many to ignore." The Guildmaster rubbed his brow, then shifted his gaze pointedly toward Eswal. "And with your father still stuck on the frontlines cleaning up the empire's stupidity, I've got no choice but to send you."
Eliana raised a brow, a teasing smirk appearing.
"You say it like he's just the replacement. You underestimate our Eswal."
Azar jumped in immediately, grinning.
"He's the rising star of this whole town, you know. Makes the rest of us look bad."
Eswal gave them both a flat look — the please shut up look — but a faint, betrayed hint of red brushed his ears.
The Guildmaster snorted.
"Underestimate? Boy, I've known Eswal since he was the size of a loaf of bread. Knew his father, too — sharpest man I've met, and twice as stubborn."
He shot Azar a glance just as Azar leaned toward Eliana and whispered:
"Says you."
They both snickered quietly.
The Guildmaster pretended not to hear.
"Anyway. This mission's simple. Scout the forest. Look for anything unusual. Then report back. No heroics."
Eswal nodded once. "Understood."
Before he could continue, Azar stepped forward.
"Can I go with him?"
"No."
"But I—"
"No."
The Guildmaster didn't even blink. "It's scouting. One person is faster. More efficient."
Azar groaned quietly. "It's not even dangerous… probably."
Eliana shrugged, already half turned toward the door.
"Good. Saves me the mana. I have practice later."
Azar shot her a betrayed look.
"Even you?"
She gave him a small smile. "Gladly."
Eswal sighed — a long, patient exhale aimed at both of them — then refocused.
"Any signs so far? Tracks, sounds, broken trees—anything?"
"Nothing," the Guildmaster said with a grim twist of his mouth. "No clues at all. That's what worries me."
Eswal gave a firm nod. "I'll check it out and be back before sunset."
"Good. And kid—"
The Guildmaster's voice softened just barely, almost lost beneath the gruffness.
"Be careful."
They stepped out of the office with the mission settled — lighthearted bickering trailing behind them, and Eswal walking ahead, already focused.
The forest thickened around them the farther they went, sunlight breaking through in soft, wavering beams. Leaves whispered overhead, insects hummed, and for a moment the woods felt almost peaceful.
Eswal walked ahead with practiced purpose, eyes scanning the faint trail.
Behind him, Azar followed with a light bounce in his step, taking in the trees like he was on a stroll rather than a mission.
Beside him, Eliana walked with the same steady pace — except she was quietly enjoying a beautifully stuffed sandwich, each bite delicate and unhurried.
Eswal sighed under his breath. Of course.
"Hard to believe we're actually on a mission right now," Azar said, hands behind his head as he admired the scenery.
"That wasn't your mission in the first place," Eswal replied without looking back.
Azar grinned. "Hey, I won't slow you down. We can't let you go alone anyway."
He nudged Eliana lightly. "Right? Back me up."
Eliana didn't even look at him, her attention fully devoted to her sandwich.
"I'm only here because you bribed me," she said flatly. "With this. My favorite."
Azar looked betrayed. "Eliana—"
She swallowed, then added casually,
"If we die, it'll be your fault."
Eswal huffed. "That is absolutely not how fault works."
"See?" Azar whispered to Eliana. "He's already stressed."
Eliana took another bite. "Yes. Because of you."
Eswal muttered something under his breath and kept walking, the two of them trailing behind like chaos wrapped in companionship.
But as their playful steps carried them deeper, something began to shift.
The forest grew quieter.
Birdsong thinned.
Even insects fell silent.
The breeze that had been brushing the leaves slowly faded, until the branches above became still as stone.
A faint, creeping wrongness settled around them — subtle, but steadily growing heavier with every step.
Azar slowed. "Where are the animals?"
"Exactly," Eliana whispered.
A chill crawled up their spines.
Minutes later, Eswal crouched, brushing fingers over the dirt.
"Tracks. Something was dragged."
They followed the trail until Azar flinched.
A dead boar lay beneath a tree, its body sunken, skin clinging tight to bone as though drained from the inside. Dried streaks of blood stained the grass, but the carcass looked almost hollow.
Eliana stepped closer, her expression tightening.
"What happened to it…?"
More bodies appeared — rabbits, foxes, a deer. All shriveled, all wrong.
The air grew cold.
The forest stopped breathing.
Eswal's eyes hardened.
"Stay sharp."
The trail led them to a rocky ridge where a narrow cave mouth yawned like a broken jaw. The air spilling from it was damp and putrid.
A human hand lay in the dirt.
Eswal crouched beside the body instantly, signaling the others to keep their distance as he examined it.
He turned it slightly — slow, controlled.
"Adventurer," he murmured. The snapped sword beside the corpse was crushed inward, as if something far stronger had clamped down on it. Deep claw marks ripped through the armor, the same jagged tracks etched into the stone around the entrance.
Azar's expression tightened, troubled. "He tried to crawl out…"
"Tried to escape," Eswal corrected quietly.
His eyes swept over everything — the blood trails, the angle of the scratches, the drag marks disappearing into darkness.
He stood, tightening his grip on his weapon.
"We could turn back now," he said, voice low. "But if anyone's still alive in there… they won't last long. We go now, or we're too late."
He nodded once, steady.
"Stay close. Silent."
Then they moved forward.
Further in, they could already see more shapes. More bodies.
Limp. Dried. Twisted.
At least a dozen.
Children among them.
Eliana's breath trembled.
Eswal raised a hand sharply — silence.
Somewhere inside the cave… something struck stone.
A dull, rhythmic pounding.
Then silence.
Only the faint drip of water echoed through the cavern, each step taking them past more lifeless bodies.
They moved in soundlessly, feet light against the stone.
The deeper they went, the darker the walls grew — smeared with something thick and blackened.
The pounding came again.
Steady.
Violent.
Like something slamming itself against the rock.
Eliana stiffened.
Azar's breath hitched — tense, but controlled.
They exchanged a worried glance…
and kept going.
Then they saw it.
At the far end of the cavern, crouched among bones and dried flesh, was a figure. A beastkin — or what used to be one.
His body was warped, fur matted and streaked gray, limbs twisted unnaturally long. His claws were soaked in old blood, and his ribs stuck out beneath shredded muscle.
His eyes turned toward them.
Yellow. Empty. Wrong.
Corrupted.
He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring.
Then the creature slammed its head into the cave wall with a feral shriek, claws tearing rock apart as he thrashed — frenzy overtaking any sense left in his broken mind.
Azar felt pure, freezing fear punch into his chest.
The beastkin's gaze snapped to him.
Then it lunged.