The morning after the fight felt heavier than the battle itself. The sun hung low in the sky, pale and cold, casting long shadows over the bloodstained snow. None of us had slept, and the exhaustion sat like a weight on my shoulders. My arms were sore from swinging my sword, my legs felt like jelly, and my head throbbed from trying to stay alert after a night of adrenaline and chaos.

But there was no rest for us. Not yet.

The Con leaders weren’t taking any chances. The appearance of a Corrupted Beastlord, followed by an organized pack of Corrupted Stalkers, had shaken them in a way I hadn’t expected. For all their toughness, even the Con were wary now, their stern faces grim as they gathered around Sid that morning, demanding answers.

It became clear quickly that answers weren’t coming anytime soon. No one knew why the corruption was spreading or where it was coming from. The Con leaders weren’t willing to wait for the problem to find its way to their doors. They wanted it dealt with before it got worse.

That was why, instead of collapsing into a well-earned bed, we were standing guard, keeping our bloodshot eyes on the tree line while Sid negotiated with the Con leaders.

The term "negotiated" wasn’t entirely accurate.

“You want us to hunt down the source of the corruption before we leave?” Sid asked, his tone calm but with a sharp edge of irritation. “Do you have any idea what that means? How far we’d have to go, or what we might find?”

“We’re aware of the risks,” said one of the Con leaders, a middle-aged woman wrapped in thick black furs. Her name was Yrla, and she seemed to be the one in charge of their warriors. Her tone was firm but respectful. “But this is our land. If the corruption is spreading, we need to know before it consumes us. We’ve hunted the beasts here for generations, and we’ve never seen anything like what you faced last night. Something bigger is happening.”

Something about the way she said it made my stomach twist.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Sid replied, “but we’re tired, and half my team is banged up. We’ve already done more than we were hired for. Finding the source of this corruption isn’t going to be a quick job.”

“We’ll pay,” Yrla said, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “More than the original contract. Double.”

Sid hesitated for a moment, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he nodded. “Double pay for the whole guild. And we’ll need supplies, fresh mounts, and guides who know the area.”

“Done,” Yrla said without hesitation.

By midday, we were preparing to leave. The five of us from the guild—me, Sid, Branna, Jory, Ryn, and the siblings Aedric and Lira—were joined by three Con warriors. They were built like they had been carved out of the frozen north itself.

Yrla, the leader of the group, carried a massive war spear and had a cold, no-nonsense demeanor that immediately reminded me of Sid. She didn’t waste words, but when she spoke, everyone listened.

Haldor, a bearded giant of a man with twin axes strapped across his back. His laughter was loud and booming, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that told me he wasn’t to be underestimated.

Kara, younger than the others, carried a longbow nearly as tall as she was. She moved with a quiet grace, her fur-lined hood pulled low over her face, her piercing green eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

Together, the ten of us formed a grim procession as we left the settlement and headed north, toward the forest the Con avoided.

The map Sid showed me earlier came back to my mind as we walked. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a map in this world, but something about the way Sid had handed it to me—deliberately, like it was part of a lesson—made me focus on it harder than usual.

The parchment was rough, the ink slightly faded, but the details were clear: the settlement in the center, the surrounding hunting grounds marked with trails and markers, and then, at the very edge of the map, a darkened section labeled Fyrsworn Swamp.

“This is where we’re going,” Sid had said, tapping the marked section. “The Con haven’t been here in decades. It’s treacherous terrain—bogs, hidden pits, places that’ll suck you under if you’re not careful. That’s why they’ve avoided it. Easier to hunt elsewhere than risk losing people here.”

“So why go now?” I’d asked.

Sid had glanced at me, his expression serious. “Because it’s the only place they haven’t been. If something’s hiding out here—if something’s spreading this corruption—this is where it’ll be.”

As I stared at the map, something strange happened. My vision shifted, and a faint shimmer appeared in the corner of my sight. When I blinked, the shimmer grew, and suddenly the map wasn’t just on the parchment in front of me—it was in my mind.

New Map Interface Unlocked!

Map UI activated for areas seen on a physical map. Unexplored areas are unavailable.

I’d blinked in surprise, the faint outline of the map hovering in my peripheral vision, its details crisp and clear. It didn’t show everything—just the parts I’d seen on Sid’s map—but it was enough.

Sid had noticed my reaction and smirked. “Welcome to the club,” he’d said, clapping me on the shoulder. “That’s one more tool in your belt.”

Now, as we trudged north toward the Fyrsworn Swamp, I opened the map in my mind again, watching as the familiar trails and markers slowly disappeared behind us, replaced by rough, unmarked terrain. The cold bit at my face, the trees grew thicker and darker, and the snow on the ground gave way to patches of muddy, frozen earth.

The Con warriors walked ahead, their pace steady and sure. Kara’s bow was already in her hand, an arrow nocked but not drawn, her sharp green eyes scanning the shadows. Haldor carried his twin axes across his shoulders, his massive frame almost blocking the narrow trail for those of us behind him. Yrla moved silently at the front, her war spear in hand, her expression grim.

Sid walked beside me; his gaze fixed on the horizon. “You ready for this?” he asked, his tone casual but with a sharp edge beneath it.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, gripping my sword tightly. “But I’ve got to ask… is this kind of corruption normal?”

He glanced at me, his brow furrowing. “Normal? No. Corrupted animals aren’t unheard of, but they’re rare. A Corrupted Beastlord leading a pack this organized? That’s… something else. Something bigger.”

I nodded, trying to process his words. In my head, I could feel the weight of the six points I’d dumped into Dexterity after the battle. My body felt faster, sharper, more responsive in a way that was hard to describe. My stance felt steadier, my reflexes quicker.

Sid had noticed, of course. “Felt that, didn’t you?” he’d said when I assigned the points. “Stats aren’t just numbers, Sigvard. Get them high enough, and you’ll start to feel what they do for you. You’ll move like the ground isn’t even there. Just wait until you pass twenty—things’ll really start to click.”

I’d nodded at the time, but now, as we moved deeper into unknown territory, I found myself relying on those boosted reflexes more and more. Every rustle of leaves, every snapping twig, every shadow made me jump, but my body felt ready to respond.

"Swamps ahead," Yrla called back, her voice low. "The air’s changing. Keep sharp."

We moved into the marshlands, the ground turning wet and soft beneath our feet. The trees were gnarled and blackened here, their twisted branches casting long, skeletal shadows. A faint mist clung to the ground, curling around our boots like ghostly fingers.

The deeper we went, the quieter the forest became. No birds, no wind, not even the sound of running water. Just silence.

And something about that silence felt wrong.

Sid caught my eye and nodded. “Stay ready. This is where things get interesting.”

The journey north stretched on, each step heavier than the last as the forest began to change around us. The trees grew darker and more gnarled, their trunks twisting unnaturally as though the land itself had been corrupted. The air became colder, sharper, and harder to breathe. It clung to my lungs, the kind of cold that didn’t just settle on your skin but burrowed into your bones.

The snow that had blanketed the Con hunting grounds thinned as we moved deeper into the wilderness. At first, it gave way to patches of hard, frozen earth, cracked and uneven beneath our boots. But as we continued, the ground turned softer, muddier. The snow melted into a dark, slushy muck that clung to our boots and slowed our progress.

“This isn’t just frost or snow,” Yrla muttered as we slogged through the thickening mire. She knelt to inspect the ground, scooping up a handful of the blackened mud. “The land here is sick. Rotting.”

I glanced around uneasily. She wasn’t wrong. The deeper we went, the worse it got. The ground was littered with twisted, dead plant life—shrubs that crumbled to ash at the slightest touch, trees whose bark peeled off like rotting flesh. I saw bones sticking up from the mud at irregular intervals, bleached white and broken. Animal bones, mostly. At least, I hoped they were animal bones.

“It’s been like this for years,” Kara said softly, her bow still in hand as she scanned the trees. “The swamp to the north… no one’s gone near it since I was a child. We always knew it was cursed, but this?” She shook her head, her green eyes darkening. “It’s worse than I remember.”

“Cursed,” Jory muttered under his breath, smirking faintly as he flipped one of his daggers in his hand. “There’s always a curse, isn’t there?”

“It’s not a curse,” Sid said, his voice flat and cold. “It’s corruption. And it’s spreading.”

The terrain grew harsher the further we went. The mud became deeper, sucking at our boots with every step. Small pools of stagnant water dotted the landscape, their surfaces black and oily. The smell was the worst part—a foul, cloying stench that reminded me of rotting meat and mildew. It hung in the air, thick and suffocating, making it hard to focus on anything else.

The trees thinned out as we approached the swamp, their skeletal remains scattered across the landscape like broken sentinels. In their place, thick, dead reeds sprouted from the mud, their stalks brittle and gray. The faint rustle of the wind through the reeds sounded like whispers, and I found myself glancing over my shoulder more often than I’d like to admit.

Every step felt harder, slower. My boots were caked in mud, my legs aching from the constant struggle to pull them free. The cold didn’t help—it was relentless, biting at my exposed skin and seeping through my layers of clothing.

“Careful where you step,” Haldor called out, his deep voice cutting through the silence. “The ground’s unstable here. One wrong move, and you’ll sink to your knees—or worse.”

I nodded, watching where I placed my feet. Even with my boosted Dexterity, the terrain was treacherous. Some spots looked solid but gave way under pressure, sending my foot sinking into freezing, foul-smelling mud.

Ryn walked just ahead of me, his crossbow slung over his back. He was quiet, as always, but his sharp eyes never stopped scanning the horizon. Branna walked behind me, her axe resting on her shoulder as she muttered curses under her breath about the mud and the cold.

“This place is death,” she growled, her breath fogging in the cold air. “Nothing natural grows here anymore. Whatever’s causing this…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“It’s not going to stop,” Sid finished for her. He was at the front of the group, his sword drawn and ready. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a hard, focused expression.

We pressed on, the swamp growing darker and more ominous with every step. The light of the sun barely filtered through the thick mist that clung to the ground, leaving us in a perpetual twilight. The only sounds were the squelch of our boots in the mud and the occasional distant splash, like something moving in the water.

“Do you hear that?” Lira asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

We all stopped, our breath visible in the frigid air. I strained my ears, trying to pick up on whatever she’d heard.

At first, there was nothing—just the eerie silence of the swamp. But then, faintly, I heard it. A low, wet croak, followed by a faint splash. Then another. And another.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Frogs?” I asked, though I didn’t believe it for a second.

Yrla’s expression was grim. “Not here. Not in this.”

Haldor gripped the handles of his axes, his knuckles white. “Stay sharp,” he said, his booming voice unusually quiet. “This place doesn’t feel right.”

We continued cautiously, our weapons drawn, our eyes scanning the murky shadows that surrounded us. The sound of splashing water grew louder, closer, but we still couldn’t see anything. The mist was too thick, the swamp too vast.

The land shifted beneath us as we moved, the ground becoming wetter and softer. At one point, I stepped on what I thought was solid earth, only to feel it give way beneath me. I staggered, my foot sinking into the freezing mud up to my knee.

Sid was beside me in an instant, grabbing my arm and pulling me free with a grunt. “Watch your footing,” he said, his voice tight.

“Yeah, thanks,” I muttered, shaking the mud off my leg as best I could.

We reached a shallow ridge overlooking a wide expanse of water, its surface still and black. The reeds here were taller, their brittle stalks swaying faintly in the wind. The air was colder now, the smell of decay stronger than ever.

“This is it,” Yrla said, her voice low. “The edge of the swamp.”

The ten of us stood in silence, staring out over the frozen expanse. The mist clung to the surface of the water, obscuring everything beyond a few dozen feet. The whispers of the wind through the reeds grew louder, almost like voices.

I tightened my grip on my sword, my heart pounding in my chest. Something was out there. I could feel it.

“This is where the corruption starts,” Sid said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And this is where we’ll find the answers we’re looking for.”

The silence was broken by another splash, louder this time. It was followed by a low, guttural growl that made my blood run cold.

“Ready yourselves,” Yrla said, raising her war spear. “Whatever’s in that swamp knows we’re here.”

And with that, we descended into the heart of the frozen swamp, the mist swallowing us whole.

The swamp opened up into a wide clearing, the mist parting to reveal something that felt entirely out of place in this dying, corrupted land. In the center of the clearing stood a massive golden ring, easily ten feet tall, embedded in the ground like some ancient, forgotten relic. The surface of the ring shimmered faintly, catching what little light filtered through the swamp’s gloom.

At first, I thought the ring was decorated with intricate carvings, but as we moved closer, I realized it was made up of dragons—three of them, their serpentine bodies twisting and coiling to form the ring. Each dragon had its jaws locked around the tail of the next, their eyes glowing faintly with a dim golden light, as though they were alive but barely conscious.

Inside the ring, there was nothing but blackness.

Not darkness, not shadow, but true void. It wasn’t just the absence of light—it was the absence of everything. The mist that hovered in the swamp didn’t dare to drift near it, and the faint golden glow of the dragons’ scales seemed to vanish entirely as soon as it reached the edge of the portal. The sight of it made my stomach churn, like my brain couldn’t fully comprehend what I was looking at.

“What the hell is that?” I muttered, gripping the hilt of my sword tighter.

Sid didn’t answer right away. He was staring at the portal, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable.

“It’s a gate,” Yrla said, her voice low and full of suspicion. She stepped closer, her war spear held tightly in both hands. “A Gate of Fenrir. I’ve heard of them in stories, but I’ve never seen one. And if I’d had my way, I never would have.”

“Gate of Fenrir?” I asked, glancing at her.

“They’re old,” she said, her blue eyes fixed on the golden ring. “Older than the Empire, older than the Con. No one knows where they came from, but every tale about them is the same: they’re bad news. Nothing good ever comes from what’s on the other side.”

I stared at the portal, unease crawling up my spine. The longer I looked at it, the more it seemed to pull at me, like it wanted me to step closer.

“Why here?” Branna asked, her axe resting on her shoulder. “Why now?”

“Because this is where the corruption starts,” Sid said finally, his voice steady. He gestured to the ring, his sword still in hand. “That thing? That’s not just a portal—it’s a wound. And whatever’s bleeding out of it is spreading into the swamp.”

Before anyone could respond, a sharp clicking sound echoed through the clearing.

I froze, turning toward the source of the noise. At the far end of the clearing, shadows shifted, and the clicking grew louder, joined by the faint scrape of claws against stone.

Then they emerged.

Corrupted scorpions, their massive bodies covered in jagged, blackened chitin that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Their legs moved with unnatural precision, their segmented tails arched high over their backs, the barbed stingers glinting like sharpened steel. Each one was six feet long and four feet across, their pincers snapping in the air as they skittered toward us.

The largest of them, positioned directly in front of the portal, clicked its pincers menacingly and let out a strange, guttural hiss that sent a chill through me.

“Corrupted guardians,” Sid muttered, his sword raising instinctively. “Of course it’s guarded.”

One of the scorpions skittered forward, its many legs moving in a horrifyingly fluid motion. Its glowing, green-tinted eyes locked onto me, and I felt a strange sense of… awareness, as though it was sizing me up.

Then it reared back on its hind legs, its tail arched high, the massive stinger aimed in my direction.

“Watch it!” Branna shouted, hefting her axe.

“It’s too far away!” I replied, taking a step back. “It can’t—”

I didn’t even finish the thought before the scorpion’s stinger launched toward me like an arrow.

I froze, caught off guard by the sheer speed of it. The barbed projectile hurtled through the air, a blur of blackened chitin aimed straight for my chest.

Before I could even raise my sword, Sid was there.

He stepped in front of me, his blade flashing as he intercepted the stinger with a sharp, ringing clang. The force of the impact sent sparks flying, and the stinger ricocheted off his sword, embedding itself in the ground beside us with a sickening thud.

Sid turned to me, his eyes narrowing. “You should have seen that coming.”

“Noted,” I said quickly, my heart pounding.

The scorpion hissed angrily, its tail twitching as a new stinger began to form at the tip.

“Stay sharp!” Sid barked, stepping back into formation. “These things have ranged attacks. Watch their tails!”

The scorpions began to spread out, their pincers snapping, their tails twitching as they prepared to strike again.

“Pick your targets!” Yrla commanded, her war spear leveled at the largest one. “Take them down one at a time. Don’t let them surround us!”

The clearing erupted into chaos as the scorpions charged.

The first one lunged at Aedric and Lira, its massive pincers snapping dangerously close to their heads. Aedric deflected one with his longsword, while Lira darted in with her spear, aiming for the creature’s underbelly. Her strike hit home, black ichor spraying from the wound, but the scorpion didn’t go down.

Kara loosed an arrow, the projectile striking one of the smaller scorpions in the eye. It hissed and staggered, but it kept coming, its claws digging deep furrows into the mud as it skittered toward her.

Ryn’s crossbow fired next, the bolt slamming into a scorpion’s leg and snapping it clean off. The creature stumbled, its movements jerky and uncoordinated, but it lashed out with its tail, forcing Branna to duck under the strike.

Sid moved like a whirlwind, his sword flashing as he intercepted another flying stinger mid-air. The sheer force of the attack nearly knocked him off balance, but he recovered quickly, slashing at the nearest scorpion and cleaving through one of its pincers.

I forced myself to focus, my grip tightening on my sword. One of the scorpions was coming straight for me, its glowing eyes fixed on mine, its tail twitching as it prepared to launch another stinger.

This time, I saw it coming.

The stinger shot through the air, but I sidestepped at the last second, the barbed projectile whistling past my head and burying itself in the mud. The scorpion hissed in frustration, and I took the opening, darting forward and slashing at one of its legs.

The blade bit deep, severing the limb at the joint. The creature stumbled, its balance thrown off, and I swung again, aiming for its underbelly.

My sword connected, ichor spraying as the scorpion let out a wet, gurgling hiss. It collapsed to the ground, its legs twitching weakly before going still.

“That’s one!” I shouted, stepping back to catch my breath.

But there were still five more, and the largest—the one guarding the gate—had yet to move. It stood in front of the portal like a sentinel, its tail coiled and ready, its pincers snapping in the air as though daring us to come closer.

“What’s the plan, Sid?” Branna shouted; her axe raised as she fended off another scorpion.

Sid glanced at the portal, then at the largest scorpion, his jaw tightening. “We take them out, one by one. And then we deal with whatever the hell that thing is.”

The fight wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But as the sun rose higher over the swamp, I tightened my grip on my sword and prepared to do what I had to do.

The last of the corrupted scorpions let out a sickening hiss before it collapsed to the ground, its massive body twitching as dark ichor pooled beneath it. My chest heaved as I stood there, sword heavy in my hand, my muscles screaming from the effort. Around me, the others were just as battered—Branna’s axe was chipped and slick with black blood, Aedric was clutching a gash in his side, and Kara was carefully pulling her arrows free from a scorpion’s carapace, one by one.

Sid, his sword still gleaming faintly in the dim light, surveyed the clearing. “Everyone still alive?”

“Barely,” Branna muttered, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

Aedric let out a low groan but nodded. “Still standing.”

Ryn reloaded his crossbow, his sharp eyes scanning the clearing for any movement. “That’s all of them,” he said. “But that portal’s still there.”

We all turned toward the golden ring, its massive form towering over us. The void inside it remained—black and unnatural, like it was swallowing all the light around it. The air near the portal felt… wrong. Heavy and distorted, as though it were vibrating ever so slightly.

“It’s still open,” Sid said, his voice tight. “We need to—”

Before he could finish, the ground beneath my feet shifted.

I barely had a moment to react. A tremor rippled through the earth, like something was pulling at the very ground below us. My boot sank into the muddy earth near the edge of the portal, and before I knew what was happening, I slipped.

“Sigvard!” Sid shouted.

I reached out instinctively, but there was nothing to grab onto. The world tilted as I stumbled backward, my arms flailing. My foot caught on the edge of the golden ring, and then I was falling.

Straight into the void.

The moment I crossed the portal’s threshold, the darkness swallowed me whole. It wasn’t just the absence of light—it was something worse. The blackness pressed against me from every side, suffocating and absolute. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even feel where my body ended and the void began.

Pain shot through me like fire—sharp, twisting agony that crawled through my limbs and into my chest. My mind screamed, my thoughts fracturing like shards of glass. It was as if something was tearing me apart, piece by piece, only to stitch me back together again in a form I couldn’t understand.

I don’t know how long I was in that place. Seconds? Hours? It felt endless.

And then, suddenly, it stopped.

I gasped as light exploded around me. I was on my back, staring up at a sky that was no longer black but a dull, gray overcast. The golden ring loomed above me, its three dragons still locked in an endless cycle of jaws and tails. The void that had once filled the ring was gone. All that remained was empty air.

“Sigvard!”

I turned my head just as Sid’s face appeared above me, his expression a mixture of anger and worry. The others were right behind him—Branna, Ryn, Aedric, Lira, Kara, and Yrla. They were running toward me, weapons still drawn, their eyes wide with alarm.

I tried to sit up, but pain shot through me like lightning. My whole body felt bruised and hollow, as if I’d been wrung out and left empty.

Sid dropped to one knee beside me, his hand on my shoulder to keep me steady. “Easy, kid. Don’t move yet.”

“What… what happened?” I croaked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“You fell into the portal,” Sid said, his eyes narrowing. “It disappeared the moment you hit it. We thought we’d lost you.”

I blinked, my mind still foggy. “I… I’m fine. I think.”

“You don’t look fine,” Branna said, her tone gruff as she crouched nearby. “You look like you’ve been dead for a week.”

“Check yourself,” Sid said firmly. “System. See if there’s anything wrong with you.”

I nodded weakly and focused, calling up my status screen. It flickered to life, hovering in front of me.

Name: Sigvard

Level: 4

Health: 9/100

Stamina: 6/50

Mana: 0/0

Status Effects: None

I blinked, staring at the screen. “No status effects,” I said, my voice still hoarse. “I… I seem okay.”

Sid frowned, his eyes narrowing as though he didn’t quite believe me. “Nothing? No corruption? No marks? Nothing strange?”

I shook my head. “No. My health is low, but I’m fine.”

Sid let out a breath and nodded. “Alright. Let’s get you out of here.”

Before I could respond, a voice spoke from behind the group.

“Wait.”

We all turned, weapons half-raised. Yrla was standing a few paces away, her spear still in hand. But her face had changed—her sharp features twisting into something cruel and unnatural. Her skin seemed to shift, turning gray and mottled, as her eyes turned a sickly yellow.

“She’s—” Ryn began, but he didn’t get a chance to finish.

Yrla—or whatever she had become—threw back her head and cackled, the sound shrill and bone-chilling. “How fortunate! The outlander still lives!”

“A hag!” Sid barked, springing to his feet, his sword raised. “Damn it, I should’ve seen it!”

Before anyone could react, the hag stepped back, her form flickering like a mirage. “Enjoy your little victory, mercenaries. You’ve only opened the first door.” She vanished into the mist, her laughter lingering in the air like a foul stench.

The clearing fell silent again.

“What… was that?” I asked weakly, trying to process what had just happened.

“A hag in disguise,” Sid growled, his fists clenched around the hilt of his sword. “Corrupted and twisted, just like everything else here. She must have been watching us the whole time.”

Branna spat into the mud. “Coward ran the moment we noticed her.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sid said sharply. “We need to get Sigvard out of here before something worse shows up.”

The others helped me to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me. Sid and Aedric took most of my weight, half-carrying me as we began the long, grueling trek back toward camp. My vision swam, and every step sent jolts of pain through my body, but I didn’t dare complain.

I glanced back one last time at the golden ring, now empty, the portal’s void gone. Something had happened when I fell through. I didn’t know what, but I could feel it deep in my chest, like a mark that didn’t want to show itself.

“Whatever’s happening here,” Sid muttered as we walked, “it’s far from over.”

I believed him. Because whatever I’d felt in that portal—the suffocating darkness, the endless pain—I knew it wasn’t gone.

It was waiting.