Dark clouds loomed heavily over the mine entrance, casting an eerie shadow that made the terrain seem more desolate than ever. Sir Francis, standing at the threshold, noted a disturbing change in the atmosphere.

Sir William approached, observing the desolation as well, and remarked, “You said it felt lifeless before, but now… it’s even worse.”

The barren landscape, already strewn with broken trees leaning at awkward angles, now felt devoid of any hint of life. Even the wind seemed paralyzed, and not a single critter could be heard or seen.

Eyes fixed on the gaping darkness of the mine, Sir Francis spoke in a tense voice, “Do you think it’s the entity’s doing—reacting to our intrusion?”

“Could be,” Sir William replied, his breath slow and deliberate.

Standing a bit farther back, Sylvia scanned the area, her gaze shifting to Professor Gale, who looked equally uneasy. “It’s faint,” she said, her tone heavy, “but I feel it—a dark magic, malevolent.”

“Ye…yes,” Professor Gale stammered in agreement, sharing her apprehension.

Sylvia tilted her head, examining the oppressive sky above. “What kind of entity could wield enough power to alter the land like this?” she murmured to herself, before lowering her gaze and muttering, “If only the Royal Mage Angus were here…”

Sir Francis turned to address them, his voice calm but resolute. “We’re going in. There’s a cavern past the narrow entrance that’s large enough to hold us in.” He paused, ensuring everyone’s focus. “Stay alert. If you see anything, report it immediately. The entrance is narrow, so Sir William and I will lead.”

With that, they prepared to enter the mine. Sir Francis instructed two guards to remain at the entrance, ready to call for help if needed.

One by one, the team slipped into the shadows of the mine.

Sir Francis entered the cavern first, his wooden torch held high, its flames flickering faintly against the shadows. Behind him came Sir William, followed by Sylvia, Professor Gale, and then the guardsmen, some holding their own torches in a tight formation.

The small opening above the cave ceiling, usually a source of daylight, offered no help; the heavy dark clouds above blocked any light from filtering through.

Sir Francis glanced over his shoulder at Sylvia, giving her a silent command. She nodded, understanding without words, and stepped forward, reaching into her leather bag. She retrieved a sizable Magic Light Crystal, small enough to fit in her palm but large enough to brighten their path. Clutching it, she murmured a soft chant,

“Illumni.”

The crystal glowed faintly at first, then burst into a steady, bright light that illuminated the cavern. One of the guards tied the crystal securely to a sturdy stick and planted it firmly in the ground, casting a soft glow over the cave walls.

The group moved further into a secluded chamber, hidden behind rubble and fallen rocks.

Sir Francis gripped his sword tightly in one hand, his torch in the other, as he approached the narrow cavern entrance leading into the deeper dark. He halted, turning to the group. “This is where the ghoul came from,” he said, his gaze fixed on Professor Gale.

Adjusting his glasses, Professor Gale explained, “Gh... ghouls have no sight but it c…can sense the life f… force of any living b… being.”

Sir William, standing beside Sir Francis, rested a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword and added, “They look almost human.”

“More like corpses,” Sir Francis corrected grimly.

“They move like wild animals,” Sir William finished, his expression serious.

Sir Francis turned to Professor Gale, awaiting guidance. In response, Professor Gale reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a familiar object.

“Athia’s crystal!” Sylvia murmured, recognizing it instantly.

Professor Gale carefully placed the crystal onto the tip of a slender stick resembling a wand, designed specifically to hold the crystal securely in place.

Professor Gale raised the crystal toward the cavern’s dark entrance, its warm light bathing the area, much like sunlight. “Th…this should pr…prevent them from advancing too f…far,” he said, his voice steady despite the stutter.

Their strategy was clear: Sir Francis and Sir William would guard the front, Professor Gale positioned between them with the Athia’s crystal as a protective light barrier. Sylvia, wand in hand, would stand ready beside him, prepared to immobilize any ghoul that attempted to advance. Encircling them, the guardsmen were poised to strike at a moment’s notice, ready to engage any ghoul that emerged from the shadows.

Sometimes later......

They took a few careful steps forward, their boots scraping softly against the uneven ground, and yet, to their surprise, not a single ghoul appeared. “This is… odd,” Sir Francis muttered, gripping his sword tightly in one hand while raising his torch higher to cast light ahead.

Sir William’s gaze scanned the cave walls and floor. “There are markings here—along the walls and scattered across the ground.” His tone was wary as his eyes followed faint tracks etched into the rock, resembling the patterns left by human or animal movement.

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Slowly, they advanced into a larger chamber, a space distinctly different from the rugged cavern. This room, shaped like a rectangle, appeared almost crafted by human hands. Someone had carefully carved the walls to form a defined space large enough to hold twenty people comfortably.

In the center was a roughly constructed altar of rock and clay. “This must be the work of those worshippers the villagers warned us about,” Sir William remarked, his gaze moving methodically over the strange surroundings.

Sylvia approached the altar, her eyes narrowing as she spotted a faded symbol drawn across the top. “Magic symbols,” she murmured. A double circle enclosed a hexagram at its center, with arcane incantations scrawled in chalk around the edges.

Sir Francis stepped closer, crouching to inspect the base of the altar. Holding his torch near, he examined the unsettling contents. “Animal carcasses,” he said with disgust, almost recoiling. “They were… worshipping something here.” Straightening, he fought the urge to cough at the faint, sharp scent. “The smell of blood lingers.”

One of the guardsmen called out from a dim corner, “Sir, there’s scraps of cloth and rotting food over here.”

Sylvia’s gaze lingered on the altar, her voice barely above a whisper. “What… could these people possibly be worshipping?”

Suddenly, a sudden tremor shook the ground beneath them, just long enough to put them on edge before it abruptly ceased. Sir Francis exchanged a tense glance with Sir William, both wondering at the strange occurrence. Meanwhile, Athia’s crystal in Professor Gale’s hand began to glow with increasing intensity.

“Professor, the crystal,” Sylvia exclaimed, noting the light’s brightness growing unnaturally strong.

“Something is happening,” Sir Francis murmured, his tone sharp with alertness.

“Sir, the wall!” one of the guardsmen shouted, pointing toward the cavern’s walls. What once was solid rock and earth now seemed to ooze a thick, dark substance that was almost like blood but far denser. The gritty sludge seeped through the walls, turning them to a swampy, melting mire.

“Francis,” Sir William called, drawing his sword as the guardsmen followed suit, their stances tense. Sir Francis ordered, “Men, stay alert!” and motioned for them to form a protective line around Professor Gale and Sylvia.

Suddenly, a skeletal finger breached the wall, followed by an arm, slowly dragging a half-formed creature from the blood-soaked earth. “Ghouls…” Sir Francis muttered, disbelief flickering across his face as several more of the creatures began to emerge, surrounding the group on all sides.

“Stand your ground!” Sir William ordered the guards, then turned to Sir Francis, his tone grim. “There’s no turning back; the path is blocked.”

“Then we fight,” Sir Francis declared with determination, gripping his sword as he prepared to meet the advancing ghouls head-on.

Outside the mine, the clouds grew thicker, almost suffocating in their stillness.

These weren’t rain clouds—there was no wind, no movement, only a creeping silence. The two guardsmen stationed at the entrance exchanged wary glances, their nerves straining in the unnatural quiet.

“Did you feel that?” one of them asked, his voice barely above a whisper as the faint tremor subsided. “An earthquake?” he murmured, puzzled.

From a distance, faint sound of rocks falling reached their ears, and they noticed the dead tree nearby shift ever so slightly, its brittle branches creaking ominously.

From within the darkened mine, a sudden clash echoed outward. Athia’s crystal’s glow flickered as a ghoul’s screech filled the cavern.

Steel sliced through the shadow, and a ghoul staggered back, its severed arm falling limp to the ground.

From behind, another creature scuttled along the ground, its progress halted as it shrieked, repelled by the crystal’s light. It leapt forward, but before it could strike, Sir Francis’s sword slashed upward, splitting its body in two.

Beside him, Sir William swung his blade, decapitating a ghoul that lunged toward him, while other guards fended off the attacks around them. Though Athia’s crystal glowed, its light wasn’t enough to reveal every corner, and shadows lurked around the edges.

“They’re everywhere!” Sir William shouted, kicking back a ghoul after stabbing it through.

Suddenly, a ghoul crawled along the ceiling and dropped down.

“Sylvia!” Sir Francis called out.

“On it!” Sylvia replied, raising her wand. With a swift chant, she cast a powerful blast, striking the creature mid-air and throwing it against the cave wall.

Nearby, a guard strayed slightly from the group, and within moments, several ghouls closed in on him.

Without hesitation, Sylvia sent another blast, dispersing some of the creatures. But one ghoul was already rising again, snarling as it charged. Before it could close in, Sir William’s sword flashed, separating its head from its body, allowing the guard to regain his footing and retreat to the safety of the group.

The last ghoul screeched as Sir Francis’s blade struck deep, severing its arm and sending it to the ground. Still standing, the creature reached out with its remaining hand, only to be blasted back against the wall by Sylvia’s spell. It wailed briefly before falling silent.

Sir Francis, still gripping his sword tightly, panted, his breaths heavy and labored. Beside him, Sir William stood with a similar exhaustion etched across his face.

“It’s over,” Sir William muttered.

“Yeah,” Sir Francis replied, though his eyes remained fixed on the heap of ghoul bodies littering the ground, their twisted forms now motionless.

Suddenly, a powerful tremor shook the cavern. Cracks splintered the ground as massive tree roots burst upward, tearing through walls and piercing the ceiling.

“We need to get out—the ceiling’s collapsing!” Sir Francis shouted, his voice cutting through the echo of shattering stone and falling rubble.

Roots erupted from every direction, forcing the group to retreat from the secluded cavern back into the larger cave.

“Head for the entrance!” Sir Francis yelled, positioning himself at the rear to ensure everyone made it out safely.

The ground shook again, and one of the guardsmen stumbled, tripping over a thick root jutting from the wall. Sir Francis caught his arm, helping him to his feet, but the floor beneath them suddenly gave way.

Sir Francis managed to push the guard back to safety, but he lost his own footing and tumbled down into a pit that had opened beneath him.

“Francis!” Sir William called out, rushing to the edge of the hole. The drop wasn’t too deep, and Sir Francis lay below, already beginning to pull himself up.

“I’m fine,” he called, though he grimaced as he got to his knees. Sir William crouched above, reaching down. “Grab my hand!” he urged, but the height was just out of reach, even if Sir Francis jumped.

Around them, the ground continued to quake, and roots twisted and clawed their way through every crevice. Sir Francis looked up, steadying himself. “Go ahead. I’ll find another way out—looks like there’s a path down here,” he said, nodding to an opening deeper in the pit.

Sir William’s face tightened in concern. “Are you serious…?”

Before he could say more, the cavern trembled again, loose rocks raining down around them. “Just go!” Sir Francis insisted.

Reluctantly, Sir William nodded and said “I’ll be coming back for you. Stay safe.” Then he turned and left.

Now alone, Sir Francis steadied his footing as the roots writhed around him. With haste, he ignited a spare torch, its warm light casting eerie shadows as he ventured down the dim passage ahead, his heart pounding as he pressed forward.