The moment Einar locked eyes with the revenant, the air seemed to grow colder, heavier. A chill ran down his spine as Eliza's trembling whisper echoed in the small alchemist shop, her voice barely audible over the rush of fear pounding in his ears.

"R-Revenant..." Eliza muttered, her wide eyes fixed on the decaying figure standing in the doorway.

Einar’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. His mind raced as he assessed the situation. Revenants weren’t supposed to be here—in this village, in broad daylight. They belonged in the demon territories or the dark, cursed places far from civilization. This was wrong. Terrifyingly wrong.

The creature’s hollow eyes bore into him, its rusted sword clutched tightly in one hand, its decayed body twitching with each movement. Einar forced himself to stay calm, to think clearly despite the panic threatening to take over. He couldn’t afford to lose control—not now.

“Eliza,” Einar whispered over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the revenant, “I’ll keep it busy. You need to get out through the back window. Now.”

Her voice wavered, but her resolve was steady. “No. I’m not leaving you.” She swallowed hard, clutching her wand tighter. “I can help. I know a few spells, and... I can at least distract it.”

Einar glanced at her, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and frustration. He didn’t want her to get hurt. He couldn’t let her get hurt. But he had no time to argue. Every second they stood here, the revenant grew more restless, its sword twitching, its dead gaze fixed on him.

“Fine,” Einar said, gritting his teeth. “But stay behind me, and be careful.”

The revenant moved first, its speed unnatural for something so decayed. With a guttural hiss, it lunged, raising its rusted blade high before bringing it down with terrifying force.

Einar barely managed to block the strike. His sword clashed against the revenant’s, the impact sending a shockwave through his arms, making him stagger back. The creature was stronger than he had expected—far stronger. His muscles screamed from the effort of holding the revenant’s sword at bay.

Desperation surged through him as he kicked the revenant in the chest, forcing it back just enough to gain a few precious seconds of breathing room. His heart raced, his thoughts frantic. He wasn’t just fighting for his life—he was fighting for Eliza’s.

“Now!” Einar shouted. “Hit it with a spell!”

Eliza’s wand glowed faintly as she muttered an incantation. A ball of condensed mana shot from her wand, aimed at the revenant’s shoulder. The projectile struck its target, causing the creature to stagger, its grip on the sword loosening.

Einar seized the moment, charging forward with a horizontal slash. But his attack only grazed the revenant’s decayed skin, leaving a shallow cut. It barely seemed to notice, its lifeless eyes still locked on him with that eerie, unblinking gaze.

The revenant swung its sword again, faster this time, and Einar knew he wouldn’t be able to block it in time.

“Eliza!” he called out, his voice sharp.

“Viseus!” Eliza whispered, flicking her wand again.

Another blast of mana shot forward, striking the revenant’s sword arm. The force was just enough to make the creature drop its weapon, the rusted blade clattering to the ground. But it didn’t stop. The revenant hissed, lunging at Einar with its bare hands, its decayed fingers curled into claws.

Einar’s mind raced. He didn’t have time to think—he just acted. Instinct took over as he reached deep within himself, feeling the pulse of something ancient and powerful stir. His sword began to hum, faint red lightning flickering along its edge. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

He thrust the blade forward, aiming for the revenant’s heart.

The creature tried to block the attack with its arm, but Einar’s sword pierced through its decaying flesh, sinking deep into its chest. The revenant let out a guttural hiss, its hollow eyes flickering as it tried to fight back. Einar gritted his teeth, using every ounce of strength he had to pull the sword free, greenish blood spilling onto the wooden floor.

The revenant staggered, its strength fading. With a final, heavy thud, it collapsed to the ground, motionless.

For a moment, the shop was silent, save for Einar’s labored breathing. He stared at the creature’s lifeless form, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The sword in his hand still crackled faintly with remnants of the lightning he had summoned—though the power had been weak, uncontrolled.

“Eliza…” he heard her trembling voice break the silence. “Einar… how did you…?”

He turned to face her, still catching his breath. Her wide eyes were fixed on his sword, where the faint red lightning had danced just moments before. She looked at him with a mixture of awe and confusion.

“I…” Einar shook his head, trying to make sense of it himself. “I don’t know.”

Eliza stared at him, her fear slowly giving way to disbelief. “That was… magic. Real magic. Without a wand. How?”

Einar didn’t know what to say. He had no answer for her. The lightning, the power he had felt—it wasn’t something he understood, not fully. It was instinctual, like something buried deep within him had awakened, just for a moment.

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“I just… acted,” he said finally, his voice low.

Eliza took a deep breath, her hands still trembling slightly. She was shaken, but she was alive. And that was all that mattered.

Einar wiped the revenant’s blood from his sword and sheathed it, his mind racing. If a revenant had appeared here, in their village, then something was very wrong. Revenants didn’t just wander into peaceful villages. They were drawn to death, to curses, to places steeped in dark magic. But there was no dark magic here. At least, there shouldn’t have been.

“Eliza, we need to check outside,” Einar said, his voice steady but urgent.

Eliza nodded quickly, though she was still clearly rattled. She turned and grabbed a few potions from behind the counter, handing them to Einar. “Here, take these. You’ll need them.”

He accepted them gratefully, drinking a green potion—the Medium Stamina Potion—to ease the fatigue creeping into his muscles. The relief was almost immediate, his body feeling lighter, stronger.

“What was that spell you cast earlier?” Einar asked as they prepared to leave. “It helped a lot.”

Eliza gave him a shaky smile. “Just a basic Mana Shot. It’s not strong, but it’s good for knocking things off balance.”

“Well, it did the job,” Einar said, his voice lightening for just a moment.

They exchanged a brief, understanding glance before stepping out into the cold morning air. The village was still quiet, but Einar could sense that something had changed. The presence of the revenant was a sign—a warning that something dark was stirring.

As they moved cautiously towards the door, Einar’s thoughts drifted back to the power he had felt during the fight. The red lightning, the raw energy coursing through his body—it was something more than just magic. It was a part of him, something tied to the memories he couldn’t fully grasp yet.

Whatever was coming, whatever darkness had sent the revenant to their village, Einar knew one thing for certain.

He was not prepared.

But he would be.

** **

The morning sun was barely a dull glow behind thick clouds when Einar stepped toward the door, the weight of the coming day pressing on his chest. Eliza followed close behind, her footsteps light but tense. Something felt off. It wasn’t just the heavy mist clinging to the village streets—it was deeper, darker, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

They moved quietly through the door, slipping out into the alley behind Eliza’s alchemy shop. The sound of their boots on the cobblestone was the only thing keeping Einar grounded—until the world shattered with a scream. The sound ripped through the fog like a jagged knife, sharp and brutal.

Einar froze, his blood turning cold. The scream was followed by a horrible squawking roar, something no human throat could produce.

"Gods..." Eliza breathed beside him, her voice trembling.

The village wasn’t just in danger. It was under attack.

"Monsters," Einar muttered under his breath, his mind racing. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. "Just what we needed."

He cast a quick glance at Eliza, who stood pale and wide-eyed beside him. “Stay close. Don’t stray from me,” he instructed, his voice calm despite the storm of fear rising inside him.

They moved through the back alley, weaving between houses and narrow pathways. But as they rounded the corner and the main village square came into view, the sight that greeted them made Einar’s stomach drop.

Bodies lay everywhere. Torn, broken, and twisted. Blood soaked the dirt, and the smell of decay hit them like a wave. Ghouls skulked among the remains, their pale, twisted forms scavenging for anything still living. They moved in packs, feasting on whatever they could find. Further back, the towering Revenants stood like sentinels, overseeing the slaughter with cold, lifeless eyes.

Einar's heart sank. The village wasn’t just being attacked. It was being slaughtered.

Beside him, Eliza trembled, her nails digging into his arm. “There are... there are so many,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

Einar didn’t respond immediately. His mind was calculating, planning. Survive. Find Mother and Alice. That was all that mattered now.

He glanced at Eliza. “I have to find my family,” he said, his voice low but firm.

She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. “How are we supposed to get through that?” Her voice was barely a whisper, a mixture of fear and disbelief.

"I don’t care," Einar growled, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "I’m going to them, no matter what." His voice was harder now, filled with a determination he didn’t fully feel, but he couldn’t let Eliza see that. He couldn’t let her panic.

"Stay here," he added, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’ll be safer in the shop. Lock the door and don’t come out until it’s over."

But Eliza wasn’t having it. She grabbed his arm, her nails digging in. “No. I’m not leaving you. I can help.”

Einar stared at her. “Eliza—”

"I’m coming with you." Her voice shook, but her eyes were resolute. She wasn’t backing down. She wasn’t going to let him go alone.

Einar sighed, glancing back at the carnage in the village square. He didn’t have time to argue. “Fine. Stay close. And don’t try to be a hero.”

They moved together through the blood-soaked streets, every step heavy with the weight of death. The smell of rot was overpowering, and the occasional sound of a body shifting under a ghoul’s claw sent shivers down Einar’s spine.

As they reached the square, Einar’s heart clenched at the sight. Five ghouls circled a villager’s body, tearing into it with savage hunger, their movements frantic and violent. The gory spectacle was too much to bear, but Einar forced himself to focus.

"Stay back," Einar warned, stepping forward, his sword already drawn. His stomach twisted with guilt. He was too late to save this man, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He had to save the ones who were still alive.

The ghouls turned, soulless eyes locking onto Einar. Their shrill cries echoed through the square as they charged, teeth bared, claws outstretched. Einar braced himself, his body reacting before his mind could catch up.

The first ghoul lunged. Einar sidestepped, bringing his sword down in a clean arc, severing its head from its shoulders. Blood sprayed across the ground as the body crumpled, but the other ghouls didn’t hesitate.

"Einar, behind you!" Eliza’s voice cut through the chaos, and Einar spun just in time to block a second ghoul’s strike. Its claws scraped against his sword, the force of the attack pushing him back.

The ghoul’s pale, lifeless eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, Einar thought he saw something there—something deeper. They weren’t mindless. They were calculating.

Before he could react, another ghoul darted in, its claws slicing across his side. Pain exploded through Einar’s body, hot and sharp, but he bit down the scream.

"Eliza, now!" he shouted, his voice strained with effort.

Eliza raised her wand, her hands shaking as she muttered an incantation. A ball of mana shot forward, striking the ghoul square in the chest. It stumbled back, giving Einar just enough time to regroup.

But the ghouls were getting faster, smarter. They circled him now, working together, their movements coordinated. They’re learning, Einar realized, his heart pounding.

"Eliza!" Einar called, panic creeping into his voice. But she was already struggling. Her mana was running low, her spells becoming slower, weaker. He could see it in her eyes—the exhaustion, the fear.

And then it happened.