The air was thick with the smell of blood and decay as Kaelen and Sigrid made their way back toward the village. The fog was thicker now, clinging to the ground like a suffocating blanket. Every step they took seemed to echo, muffled by the oppressive stillness that surrounded them.

“I’m not comfortable,” Kaelen muttered under his breath, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Something doesn’t sit right.”

Sigrid’s silver eyes flicked to him, her expression unreadable. “You’re not the only one.” Her voice was low, but there was a sharpness to it, a sense of urgency. “That creature wasn’t alone. There’s more. I can feel it.”

Kaelen didn’t need her to elaborate. He could sense it too—the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, his instincts screaming that they weren’t out of danger yet.

As they neared the edge of the ravine, a soft sound reached their ears—a whisper carried by the wind. At first, it was nothing more than a murmur, too faint to make sense of. But then it grew louder, clearer. Voices.

Kaelen tensed, his grip on his sword tightening. “We’re not alone,” he whispered, his eyes scanning the mist.

“Stay close,” Sigrid warned, her hand falling to the dagger at her side. “Don’t let your guard down.”

They slowed their pace, moving cautiously toward the source of the sound. The voices were coming from a grove of twisted, dark trees ahead—trees that looked like they had been warped by something unnatural, their branches gnarled and reaching like claws toward the sky.

“Didn’t the blacksmith say there were shadows in the wind?” Kaelen murmured, his tone grave. “I think we’ve found them.”

Sigrid didn’t answer. Her focus was entirely on the grove ahead, her every sense alert. She had her magic ready, the faint glow of her power swirling at her fingertips.

When they reached the edge of the grove, they froze. A group of figures stood just beyond the trees, their forms obscured by the mist. There were no sounds from them—no movement, no breathing. Just the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

Kaelen’s gaze flicked to Sigrid. She nodded imperceptibly, signaling that they should approach cautiously. They moved as one, stepping silently toward the figures, their eyes never leaving them.

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As they got closer, Kaelen’s heart sank. The figures weren’t human—not fully. They were people twisted by dark magic, their faces distorted, their eyes hollow and glazed over. Their bodies were stiff, jerky, as if they were puppets being controlled by some unseen force.

“There’s the corruption,” Sigrid whispered, her voice tight. “They’ve been changed, just like the beast.”

Kaelen’s jaw clenched. He stepped forward, ready to strike, but Sigrid held up a hand, signaling for him to stop.

“We can’t just kill them,” she murmured, her silver eyes studying the twisted figures. “These people were once like us. We need to find out who or what is controlling them.”

Kaelen grunted in frustration but nodded. He understood her reasoning—even if every instinct told him to end it quickly.

As they stood there, a low, guttural voice suddenly echoed from the trees behind them, sending a chill down their spines.

“You think you can stop me?”

Both Kaelen and Sigrid spun around, their hands already reaching for their weapons. From the darkness of the grove stepped a figure, cloaked in tattered black robes. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but its presence was undeniable—a weight, a heaviness that seemed to press on the very air around them.

Kaelen’s heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t just another monster. This was something far worse.

The figure raised its hand, and the corrupted villagers began to move in unison, shuffling toward the two hunters with mechanical precision.

Sigrid’s magic flared to life, casting a brilliant silver light around her as she stepped forward. “We need to stop it now,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Kaelen didn’t need any more prompting. He charged forward, his sword raised high, the steel flashing in the dim light. The corrupted villagers shrieked in unison, their voices now a terrifying cacophony of twisted sounds, as they lunged at him.

But Kaelen was faster. With a single, sweeping motion, he cleaved through the first one, sending it crumpling to the ground. The others hesitated for a moment, but that was all Kaelen needed. He spun, his sword cutting through the air as he took down the next two, their bodies falling lifeless to the earth.

But there were too many. More and more of the twisted villagers emerged from the mist, moving in a relentless wave toward them. Kaelen’s blade was stained with dark blood, but it wasn’t enough to stop the oncoming tide.

“Sigrid!” Kaelen shouted, his voice urgent. “We need to stop that thing controlling them!”

Sigrid nodded, her magic swirling around her like a storm. She raised her hands, and a bolt of silver energy shot from her palms, striking the figure in the cloak. It stumbled back, but didn’t fall.

The figure’s voice rang out again, cold and mocking. “You’re too late. This land is mine now. And so are they.”

Kaelen gritted his teeth. “Not while I’m still breathing.” He leaped forward, cutting through another villager as he closed the distance between himself and the dark figure.

Sigrid was right behind him, her hands glowing with a new surge of energy. This time, she wasn’t holding back. With a wordless cry, she unleashed a torrent of magic, a wave of silver light that engulfed the figure.

The air around them crackled with raw power, the ground shaking beneath their feet. The figure howled in rage, but it was too late. The magic ripped through the cloak, unraveling the darkness that surrounded it, until there was nothing left but the faint echo of a dying voice.

As the last remnants of the figure’s magic faded into the mist, the corrupted villagers collapsed, their bodies falling limp and lifeless to the ground. The silence that followed was deafening.

Kaelen wiped the sweat from his brow, his sword heavy in his hand. “That was... too close.”

Sigrid was already scanning the area, her magic still crackling in the air. “It’s not over. This was only the beginning. There’s more to this than we understand.”

Kaelen didn’t argue. He could feel it too—the lingering presence of something far more dangerous than what they had just fought.

“We need to head back to the village,” he said finally, his voice low. “Get the payment, then figure out what’s really going on.”

Sigrid nodded, her silver hair catching the last rays of lig

ht as they turned to leave. “Agreed. But this... this is only the first step.”