The next few days passed in a blur of investigation and rest. While Sigrid scoured the city's hidden corners for information about the increased monster activity, Kaelen spent his time in the tavern, gathering rumors from travelers, merchants, and the occasional drunken knight. Nessa, ever the opportunist, kept herself busy by selling some of their spoils from the hunt.

But despite the constant movement, there was a noticeable shift. The air in Velrath seemed thicker, more oppressive, like a storm was looming just beyond the horizon.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the distant hills, Kaelen found himself once more by the fire, his thoughts drifting as the warmth wrapped around him. The steady crackling of the flames was the only sound in the room. Sigrid sat across from him, her eyes closed in quiet concentration, as if the world around her no longer existed.

“I don’t get it,” Kaelen said, breaking the silence.

Sigrid looked up, her gaze sharp. “Don’t get what?”

“This whole thing,” Kaelen gestured loosely around the room, “the monsters, the tension in the city. It’s all tied together, but I can’t quite make sense of it. And I don’t usually have trouble with that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re thinking about? You never strike me as the type to puzzle over things.”

He shrugged, the edge of a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Sigrid gave a dry chuckle, then returned to her vigil at the window. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Kaelen. Longer than you probably want to know.”

He didn’t reply at first, sensing a change in her tone. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice softer. “You’ve seen a lot, huh?”

Sigrid’s eyes lingered on the street below, her expression unreadable. “Enough to know when something’s off. When something isn’t just a coincidence. Monsters don’t roam this freely without reason. Someone—or something—is pulling the strings.”

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“Then we’ll find it,” Kaelen said, his tone firm. “Together.”

She glanced at him, just briefly, as if trying to gauge his sincerity. The look didn’t last long, though, and soon her eyes were back on the street, her features hardening once more.

“I don’t need anyone’s help, Kaelen.”

He met her gaze without hesitation. “Maybe not. But you’re stuck with me anyway.”

For a brief moment, there was an unspoken understanding between them. It wasn’t friendship—at least not yet—but something else. A recognition of each other’s skills, a shared experience in the harshness of the world they lived in.

The next morning, after a restless night’s sleep, the trio gathered once more at the guild, prepared to search for answers. The guildmaster had finally managed to gather more information, though it was thin at best.

“A merchant in the upper districts was recently attacked by one of these creatures,” the guildmaster explained, his voice low. “He managed to escape with his life, but he’s been speaking of something he called a ‘Watcher in the Shadows.’”

“Watcher in the Shadows?” Nessa repeated, her interest piqued.

The guildmaster nodded. “He couldn’t say much more. He was too shaken, but it’s the first clue we’ve had. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

Kaelen stood up, already moving toward the door. “That’s good enough for me.”

Sigrid paused, glancing at the others. “We’ll need to be careful. A shadow isn’t something to take lightly.”

Kaelen grinned, his usual confidence returning. “I never do.”

They made their way through the upper districts, the air heavier with every step. The streets here were quieter than usual, the once-lavish buildings now hollow shells of their former selves. The merchant’s shop was located in the farthest corner of the district, a stone structure that had seen better days.

Inside, the merchant was sitting at a rickety desk, his face pale and drawn. The scent of stale wine clung to him.

“You’re the ones the guild sent?” The merchant asked, his voice trembling.

Kaelen nodded. “We’re here to help. Tell us about the Watcher.”

The merchant hesitated, his eyes darting nervously to the shadows in the corners of the room. “I don’t know much... just that it... watches. It’s always there, in the dark. And when it moves, things... disappear.”

“Disappear?” Nessa pressed, her voice steady.

“Yes,” the merchant whispered, leaning closer. “People. Goods. It’s not just the creatures. Something else is making them appear.”

Kaelen felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” the merchant stammered. “But I can feel it. A presence. It watches from the shadows. And when it’s close...” He trailed off, his eyes wide with fear.

“Where?” Kaelen asked, leaning in.

“The old crypts... beneath the city. That’s where I saw it. In the shadows.”

The crypts beneath Velrath were ancient, older than the city itself. It was said that only the bravest—or most desperate—entered them, for the darkness below was not simply void, but something more... alive.

As they made their way toward the entrance, the city seemed to grow even quieter. The sun was low in the sky, and the crypts loomed ahead like the mouth of some great beast, waiting to swallow them whole.

“We should prepare ourselves,” Sigrid said, her voice a low murmur. “If the merchant’s right, this isn’t going to be like any hunt we’ve had before.”

Kaelen nodded, his fingers brushing the hilt of his sword. “Then we’ll just have to be better.”

Nessa grinned. “I like that attitude. Let’s see what’s waiting for us down there.”

The darkness at the entrance seemed to call to them. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone, and the faintest sound of distant whispers carried on the

wind. Something ancient and powerful stirred below, and they were about to find out exactly what.