In the morning, the sun didn't rise. A heavy, white mist rolled over the moors, thick enough to hide a man standing five paces away. The caravan moved slowly, and the wooden wheels of the wagons creaked as they rolled through the half-frozen mud.
Kai walked at the very back of the line. He didn't look at the road and constantly looked at the mist. He could feel the pressure in the air--the same feeling you get before a lightning strike.
The Fire Mark was quiet for now, though the skins around it felt tight and itchy.
Miri was sitting on the back of the last wagon, her legs dangling over the edge. She was holding a small piece of wood she had found, pretending it was a doll. She looked safer than she had in the forest, but she still didn't smile and occasionally watched Kai's every move.
"Why do you stay at the back?" she asked. "The guards are all at the front."
"The front is always least preferred by void beasts," he said without turning his head. "While the back is where the real danger comes from, this is the same for both humans and monsters."
"And it gives a clear view of everything."
Suddenly, the lead wagon came to a sharp halt. The sound of wood hitting wood echoed through the mist. Joram, the guard, shouted something, his voice muffled by the fog.
"Blockage! There's a tree across the path."
Kai dropped his hand to the hilt of The Scourge. He didn't draw it yet, but he loosened the blade in its sheath.
The mist was too thick; if he drew now, the sound would tell the hidden hunters exactly where he was standing. He moved closer to Miri, his shadow falling over her small frame.
Up ahead, Joram and another guard were swearing as they stepped into the mud to examine the fallen tree. It was a massive oak, its bark blackened as if struck by lightning.
"It didn't fall," Joram shouted, his voice full of fear. "Look at the trunk, it doesn't look natural. Something chewed through the wood,"
The hair on the back of Kai's neck stood up. The Fire Mark on his shoulder began to throb, a steady, rhythmic heat that matched his heartbeat.
Thump-bum. Thump-bum.
It was a warning to him. The cold in the air was getting sharper, turning the mist into tiny crystals of ice.
"Get back to the wagons!" Kai roared. His voice was like a thunderclap in the quiet moor. "It's a kill zone! Move now!"
It was too late. From the white mist on either side of the road, long, grey shapes emerged. They weren't jumping or even walking; they were sliding over the frozen ground.
Not one, but three Stalkers. And behind them were dozens of ghouls spreading like a carpet covering the ground.
The guards started to panic. One man tried to run towards the lead wagon, but a Stalker leaped from the fog.
Its long, multi-jointed limbs wrapped around his torso. There was a sickening crunch of metal and bone. The man didn't even have time to scream before he was dragged back into the dense fog.
Elara climbed onto the roof of the main wagon, a small crossbow in her hands. She looked remarkably calm.
"Form a circle!" She commanded the remaining guards. "Shields out! Joram, get to the horses!"
Kai finally drew The Scourge; the black iron sang as it cleared the scabbard. He didn't join the guards as he knew their circle wouldn't hold against Stalkers. He stayed with the last wagon, protecting Miri and the rear.
A ghoul hissed and lunged at Kai from the left. He didn't even look at it; he swung the heavy Nodachi in a wide, flat arc.
The weight of the blade, combined with Kai's strength, sent the Ghoul's upper half flying into the mist, while its legs stayed standing for a second before collapsing.
"Miri, get inside the wagon! Under the floorboards!" Kai commanded.
He didn't wait to see if she obeyed as two more Ghouls were coming. And he could see the four blue eyes of a Stalker watching him from the top of the fallen oak.
The real fight still hasn't started.
The Stalker on the tree trunk didn't move. It crouched low, its four blue eyes tracking the tip of Kai's sword. It was waiting for the smaller Ghouls to tire him out.
In the void's hierarchy, the weak die first, draining the enemy's strength.
Three Ghouls rushed at Kai at once. They moved in a zigzag pattern, trying to confuse his eyes.
Kai breathed out a slow, steady stream of mist. He didn't focus on their face; he focused on the center of their mass.
He stepped into their reach. The Scourge moved in a blur. He stabbed the first one through the throat, kicked the second one in the chest to create space, and used a backhand swing to cleave the third one in half.
The black ichor sprayed across his leather cloak, steaming in the cold air.
The fire Mark on his shoulder flared bright orange. The heat was becoming unbearable; it felt like his own blood was turning into boiling lead.
Kai's left arm began to shake, the muscles locking up from the strain of the red power.
"Now," Kai looked at Stalker on the tree trunk.
The Stalker hissed, leaping from the tree. It didn't fall with force; it used its multiple limbs to land behind the Kai with terrifying grace. It swung a jagged claw, aiming for the back of Kai's neck.
Kai sensed the cold before he heard the movement; he dropped to one knee. The Stalker's claw whistled through the air where his head had been seconds before.
He felt the wind of the strike; it was freezing, enough to freeze the hair on his neck.
From his kneeling position, Kai drove the pommel of his sword into the Stalker's soft underbelly.
The monster let out a choked sound, and Kai followed up with a rising strike that sliced through its lower jaw.
Up ahead, the guards were losing. Joram was down on one knee, his shield splintered. Another Stalker was dragging a horse away; the animals' terrified whinnies can be heard through the fog.
Elara was firing her crossbow, but the bolts just bounced off the Stalker's hard bone plates.
Kai knew he had to finish his fight fast, so he stopped holding back the Mark. He leaned into the pain, letting the orange fire spill out of his bandaged arm and crawl down his arm.
The black iron of The Scourge began to glow a cherry-red.
The Stalker recoiled, its four eyes widening in fear. The heat coming from Kai was now so intense that the frozen mud beneath his boots began to turn into steam.
For a brief moment, Kai didn't look like a tired man; he looked like a vengeful spirit made of embers.