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CHAPTER 34: BACK TO… CIVILISATION?

Thena dispatches the last [Zombie] with an almost nonchalant backhand, just a beat after my pinpoint [Water Cannon] obliterated the torso of another groaning undead. My target is reduced to a pile of loose limbs and one grunting head. On Thena’s end, things are a little more scattered. Regardless, Toto finishes off the more significant and agitated remains while Appleseed is cheering us on… from behind the bushes on the side of the road.

After confirming we indeed got the last of them, I turn to the shivering bush with horns, and I bring my hands to my mouth. “Appleseed! Behind you!!”

“Naaaaaaaa-a-a-ah!!!!”

The bush explodes in a blur of black fur that darts past me, dishevelling me slightly. I blink, stunned, then slowly turn back to discover the trembling undead goat in princess carry in Thena’s arms. My left eyebrow twitches.

Why am jealous of a dead goat?

The semi-orc looks nonplussed. Unceremoniously, she drops Appleseed.

“Naaaah!”

*bam*

“Naa… aw.”

Hehehehehe.

Thena sighs and rubs her temples. “How far are we from the town?”

I hide my petty smirk and take out Ambrose’s memoirs—which we’ve transferred from Thena’s inventory to mine. The heavy tome contains a lot of useful information, including a map of the kingdom which is only a little outdated—about two-thousand years old, give or take a couple of years. …Okay. Very outdated. But compared to the lacklustre “recent” map I have, the antique is more accurate, truthfully. Taking into account the possible inconsistencies, I’d much rather trust the book.

Also, the towns I’ve visited in this country—the ones still standing, I mean—all were surrounded by imposing runic walls. The current Erwyn lacks the technological and magical abilities to erect such powerful enchanted defences. So it shouldn’t be wrong to deduce that these settlements which survived Erwyn’s localised zombie apocalypse are the same cities that stood in Ambrose and Victoria’s time, and before.

“We should be around here.” I tap a finger on a squiggle linking two cities, Ahen and Calitra.

As far as I know, the two closest towns are named Ashen and Cali.

Seems about right.

We’ve been heading towards Cali for the past day or so. According to the map, we should be close. Thena is anxious about getting to the town, a feeling I share—to a point. Although the isolated groups of undead we’ve had to deal with so far were low-level, in my experience, this literally cursed place has a knack for unpleasant surprises.

I point on the map a bend in the road. “This… should be that hilltop over there.” I nod towards the top of the slope we’re on—at a rough guess fifteen-to-twenty minutes away by foot. “Cali is beyond there. We should be able to see the city wall once at the top.”

She glances at the map and nods. “Let’s go then.” Toto jumps on her shoulder; I throw the book in my inventory and climb on Appleseed’s back; and we get going at a fast jog, Thena setting the pace.

* * *

Reaching the top of the hill, we finally come into view of the city.

“Well… So much for a safe rest,” I comment pointlessly, earning an annoyed glare from Thena.

Before us is a scene of utter devastation. A broad section of the wall lies in rubbles around the place where the gate used to be. The portal itself has been blasted to pieces, and those bits of crumpled metal are dotting the ground, scattered up to several hundred feet inwards.

Erwynian fortified cities are not only urban settlements. They’re self-contained autarkic entities. Fields and pastures, even forests, span the area between the runic rampart and the inner wall surrounding the town proper, providing sustenance for the inhabitants—or they should.

Now, even in the dark, the crops look shrivelled and dead; the few trees still standing have become desiccated skeletons of petrified wood; and the rotten pastures spread beyond the broken wall in darkened patches like a nasty skin disease. The main road that connects the two walls has been widened into a broad highway of mud, spilling into the desolate adjacent fields. Cali is still a way further, little more than a jagged shadow on the horizon against the unchanging backdrop of low-hanging storm clouds.

From the low hill we stand on, the landscape looks especially ominous.

Lighting cracks in the sky, snapping Thena and me out of our daze. We share a glance, then hurry down the hill towards the destroyed wall.

I just hope my intended exit still exists.

* * *

[ Narrator ]

Hours of walk away from our heroes, deep down into the bowels of the blighted land, led stubbornly by a twitchy [Shadow Fiend], the squad of [Death Knights] strode past a bend of a tunnel and… walked into a dead end yet again.

“Gnnnniii…” Black smoke surged outwards from the openings in the corrupted elemental’s cloak, gouging deeply into the stone walls and melting down the two closest knights. “Rrrrrrrraaaaaaaah!!!! This... is... enou—”

“FACELESS!! WHAT IN THE NAME OF ME ARE YOU DOING?!” An ethereal chilling voice bellowed inside the elemental’s head, freezing the agitated smoke.

“Ma... Master?”

“Who else, you sinisterly inept creature?!” The voice of the ancient lich, Jafar Rasputin, self-proclaimed “the Sane”, kept spitting spiteful abuses. “Pray tell what incompetent idiocy you are committing at the moment?!”

“I am… hunting… the… princess… Master?” The barest hint of doubt crept into Faceless’ gravelly voice, turning the answer into a tentative question.

“Then why are you underground while the Progenitor’s descendant and her green-skinned whore are ALREADY NEARING CALITOR?!?!”

“……eh?”

“I saw them through the eyes of one of the lesser undead which I left to keep watch over the Key Orb. Now go after them! And pray the dark gods you won’t fail me… again. Otherwise, even them won’t be able to save you from my wrath!” On these words, the lich’s abrasive presence abruptly vanished from the shadow being’s troubled mind, as abruptly and without regard as it had invaded it.

For a small instant, the tunnel was deathly quiet. Then…

“Ghaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah!!”

A lugubrious shriek sent tremors through the former Soul Eater’s lair.

The shadows came alive throughout the maze. They whirled and twisted and convulsed in every corner, like a beast awoken, devouring insectoid ghouls and cadaveric knights alike. A putrid wind blew underground as long stale air suddenly moved erratically. The disturbances converged and culminated where stood the dark entity, the corrupted being of pure shadows, the shackled void, whose monastic robes flapped wildly as darkness turned material formed a cyclone with the fiend at its core.

Brutally, the humanoid body of living shadows erupted upwards, becoming a formless black cloud that impacted the rock and bore through it like a sentient haze of acid. As the thing wormed its way towards the surface, the whole maze shook, rocks falling and cracks undermining its stability. Faceless didn’t care, the Princess already far and out of harm’s way.

Soon the entirety of the labyrinth started to collapse. In the forest above, the scarce trees which had survived the blaze of Soulfire toppled as crevasses tore across the ground. Liquid bubbling blackness sprung from the earth in several geysers. The black ooze rained back down to the scorched forest floor, reformed, and flooded towards the city now known as Cali at a frantic pace, leaving ruin in its wake.

After millennia, the Black Death of Kabaneth was on the hunt once again.

* * *

“Did you hear something?”

Thena shoots me a glance over her shoulder, then she scans our surroundings with narrowed, attentive eyes. Likely finding nothing, she shrugs and resumes walking, shaking her head. I scratch mine and look around as well, but I don’t spot anything she might have missed.

Weird. I would have sworn…

Your stomach, maybe?

Oh, shut up.

I’m sure I felt a tremor... I think?

Though, now that you mention it, I could use a snack. Something consistent. A girl needs more than her liquid diet, after all.

You are revolting.

Wha—Ugh! No! I didn’t mean it that way! You’re the dirty one!

Ah-ah-ah. Don’t try to deny it.

What? I would never—

Pffffft.

……ha-ha-HAH! Very funny.

Hehehehehe.

“Looks like an army passed through here.” I hear Thena mumble.

I raise an eyebrow at her. “My, I didn’t know that not only were you a great tank, but a master tracker as well! Colour me surprised, ma’am!” I exclaim sarcastically, spreading my arms to encompass the traces of stampede all around us.

A swat rewards my quip. I dive down with a squeal. Wind caresses the top of my head, causing cold sweat to trickle down my back.

Did she just try to slap my head off?! Did she forget what happened to the zombie who received that same swipe not an hour ago?!?! Because I didn’t!!

This is attempted regicide!

You’re no king.

Princessississicide!

“Vicky.”

“Yes, ma’am!?” I straighten, and Thena’s glaring golden eyes catch mine, freezing me in the middle of a mock military salute. Her thick lips are set into a tight line—as tight as her small protruding tusks allow. …Now that I look closer at them, those tusks are kind of cute, in a way. Tinier than full orcs’ and lacking their usual tribal ornaments.

“We are heading towards a likely destroyed town and a possible army of undead monsters, and you’re… cracking jokes?” Her raised and twitching left eyebrow plainly conveys her opinion on the matter.

Faced with such blatant irritation from someone bigger and stronger than me… I shrug. “Naaah. Well, to me, it seemed like a good time to lighten the mood.”

Her eyes narrow further, and her lips purse. “Pardon me if I don’t see the humour in the situation.”

“That’s because it’s not a stick you have up your bottom, but a cactus… Yes,” I nod to myself wisely. “A prickly cactus. And it’s in so deep that it must block your eyesight.”

“……”

Ooooooh! Is that what a popping vein on someone’s forehead looks like?

Is she alright? I don’t think orcs are supposed to be purple.

“I beg your pardon?!”

Oh boy.

“You heard me.” I shrug. “You’re faaaar too tense, girl. Seriously. Relax. It’s just a game. Why not try and enjoy it instead of being on edge 24/7?”

She glares at me for another few seconds, teeth gnashing and hands flexing nervously—and I get ready to spur Appleseed into full gear in case Thena snaps. Then she sighs in exasperation, turns around and resumes walking. After a moment of looking at her back, I sigh as well. I let my head drop on top of Appleseed’s. “Hey, Appy, why do you think your aunty Thena is so grumpy?”

“Maaaaaybe shee-ee-ee wa-a-ants A-a-a-apple?”

“Mmmh… I don’t think that’s it, but every angle is worth exploring. Thanks, Appy.”

“You-ou-ou’re we-e-e-e-elco-ome. Naaaa-aa-aaah.”

What a polite dead goat.

Mulling over the question, I distractedly remove a piece of rock from my inventory and rotate it in my hands. This is a chunk of Cali’s outer wall that I picked up on the ground in passing. The Ancient Runes are distinctly carved into the stone, but they’re lifeless, inactive and drained of their magic by whatever blasted a hole in the antique enchanted wall. Several thousand years of self-sustaining magic. Pure art. Blown to pieces without a regard.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

I don’t know if I should be impressed or pissed.

Bit of both?

The fragment is only intact enough that I recognise Edenic Soul Language, but not enough that I can decipher any meaning to these runes. We didn’t stop long enough for me to conduct a full analysis of the breached wall, which is a shame. Thena didn’t want to risk it, and I’m still walking on eggshells around her, so I didn’t dare be too whiny about it.

Besides, the wall isn’t going anywhere. There will always be time to come back later—preferably when I’m not at risk of getting killed by any puny [Zombie] who’d get a lucky hit in anymore.

The area between the two walls is quite expansive. Nevertheless, we cross it relatively fast, and Cali proper is soon before us. The town is surrounded by a tall wooden fence whose purpose honestly escapes me. I mean—no, I do get the purpose of a fence in general. But did the citizen honestly believe that anything which managed to get past the big badass runic fortification would get thwarted by some wooden planks? They’re undead monsters, not the aliens from Signs.

Well, that flimsy palisade very expectedly didn’t do the men and women of Cali any good.

At least, I deduce as much from the big jagged hole right in front of us.

Sherlock-worthy.

Thank you.

That was sarcastic.

……

The town beyond the destroyed fence fares barely better. Many of the buildings in sight have fallen prey to fire or been reduced to piles of wreckage, or both.

Stopping before the breach, Thena takes out her shield and checks her armour. I get off Appleseed and arm myself with Francis the OP Frying Pan. Toto, still riding on Thena’s shoulder, stops pretending to sleep and blows a small blue flame, as if testing his breath. Appleseed… hides behind us.

…Sure. Bring up the rear guard, girl.

As ready as we possibly can, our group prudently steps through the gaping hole, attentively surveying our surroundings in search of a potential ambush—or more likely, of some roaming group of the undead. The damage to the town, while extensive, isn’t recent. Whatever did it is probably long gone. This may even have happened before I wandered into Kansas, several in-game months ago. The blood, sooth and mud have long been washed away by the rain, and from the burnt down houses are left only cold blackened bits and sparse agglomerated heaps of ashes and dust slowly being eroded by the wind.

We walk through the ghost town in silence. Empty houses stare down at us. The wind is howling as it breathes through squeaking broken shutters left hanging on single rusted hinges. Our footsteps, as quiet as we try to make them, echo all around us deafeningly, like dozens of fingers tapping in dark corners where our gazes cannot reach.

That my [Soul Sense] isn’t picking up anything is only a slight consolation. With my current level, an efficient and specialised cloaking spell could do the trick and blind me.

“Where are all the bodies?”

I jump at least three feet up. “JEEES—us…” I caught myself a second too late. That muscly calculator-head startled me! Thankfully, nothing reacts to my slip—nothing except Thena herself, who castigates me with one harsh glare. I smile innocently. “Yes, my handsome and wise green travelling companion?”

She groans in exasperation but doesn’t pursue further. “The bodies,” she repeats, waving at the empty street around us. “If the townfolks were slaughtered, shouldn’t there be corpses all around?”

“Not in this place, no. Any person or animal that dies in Erwyn revives within the day as an animated corpse. It’s the curse.” I point at the clouds above. “That curse. Nothing to do with mine, I’d like to precise. Also, sometimes, the revived dead are too damaged to walk away on their own and get eaten by the others. I’ve no idea why the undead are so hungry for flesh…” The last bit was just me pondering out loud. Thena nods and falls once again in a vigilant silence.

I keep looking around as I follow, my brows furrowed in concern.

Something’s off.

Yes. Despite the explanation I just gave Thena, something doesn’t feel right. Of course, what I told her isn’t wrong. Immobile corpses don’t stay so for long in this country, one way or another. However, the reanimated aren’t known for eating tidily. Devoured bodies should have left some remains behind. Be it a few bits of broken bones or torn and bloody clothes.

This here looks more like the inhabitants just… vanished. Of course, hypothetically, they could have fled the city.

But I don’t believe it. For the three hundred years the country has been cursed, the belief that wandering outside the walls equals certain death has become deeply ingrained in most Erwynians’ mind. Even in the face of an invasion, they would think their odds of standing their ground higher than if running into the wild. Some might have risked it, but not enough that Cali would be this devoid of any traces.

Moreover, my guts are telling me this attack happened fast. Very fast. There would have been little time to organise a full evacuation.

I always trust my guts. They know what your brain has yet to figure out. Rule number 19.

What else…? Underground shelters are another option, I guess.

But the inhabitants would have come out by now.

Right.

Someone—or something—cleaned this town of bodies. Harvested them, I’d say. And from experience, I know gathering a lot of dead human bodies rarely is done for altruistic reasons.

…

And you dare to mock Thena’s deduction abilities.

…

I have no excuse.

No, you really don’t.

We continue down the main street without encountering anything, be it dead or alive. However, I can’t shake off the feeling of being watched. Staying out of sight and undetected would usually be a priority in hostile territory, but the undead don’t use their eyes or ears as we do. Against them, regular stealth is mostly pointless. Allowing ourselves room to act unimpeded and escape routes to avoid being swarmed and cornered is more critical than remaining unnoticed.

In the past, I’d have already used several detection and protection spells by now. Annoyingly, however, I’ve only recovered some basic attack and utilitarian spells yet. It’s at times like these that I get most frustrated with this curse. Being deprived of the magical arsenal I’d been taking for granted is way more handicapping than my loss of physical power.

Well, we’ll see what happens.

* * *

Further down the street, the buildings end, opening up into some central plaza. We pass the last houses and arrive in the large square, and we stop.

We’ve found the missing bodies.

And I finally understand what has been bugging me we entered Cali. It’s the smell. The smell of blood. The whole town reeks of blood, but there was hardly any to be found… until now.

Well, well, well… Even in my long time playing, I can’t say I’ve seen anything quite like this.

That’s a hella lot of blood.

…and corpses. Lots, and lots of corpses. And not the rowdy, bity, growly kind of corpses. Those dead people are as dead as a dead can be. So much for my earlier statement about no dead body ever staying long in the same place in Erwyn. I should have known better.

Rule 37: Never trust anything in a world where magic is possible.

Except for little girls.

Except for little girls.

Little girls are never evil.

Little girls are never evil.

Had we stumbled up the whole town turned into a horde of hungry zombies, I probably would have given a nervous laugh before running the other way. But this is not the case. Here, all I do is let out a vaguely disgusted and annoyed “Eeew…” and shield my nose. Even for a half-vampire, technically half-a-corpse, the stench here is offensive.

Squared in shape and more sizeable than I’d expect from this relatively small town, the plaza is mostly void, except for its centre which holds the statue of some old man kneeling in prayer.

For the first time in a while, I feel Victoria’s soul steer inside me.

“…soul…”

Soul? What soul?

Whose soul?

“…calling…”

What? Who’s calling who?

Answer, woman!

She doesn’t answer, but I can feel her presence like a creature hidden just below the surface of an unusually tranquil lake.

Great. You scared her.

I scared her?! She is the motherfucking two-millennia-old vampire queen body-hopping poltergeist! I’m just the repressed brain damage of a pussy.

Hey! You—You… You might have a point.

Right?!?!

I frown and try to figure out what the ancient princess’ intervention means as I look around.

I don’t know if this is gory-impressive, or plain bad taste…

I kind of like it, personally. It saves wallpaper.

Most of the central space of the square is indeed empty, save for the statue, but the periphery is another story. Piles of meticulously stacked corpses line the facades of the surrounding buildings, forming a literal wall of dead flesh around the plaza. In some places, these heaps are so high that they reach the roofs. Men, women, children, elderly… All the inhabitants of Cali are probably here, livid and breathless, unmoving.

♫ I got a meat cleaver. ♫ Welcome to the slaughterhouse… ♩

♪ I’m a psychopath ♫ I’m a killer, killer, kill—Ah! Now’s not the time to sing!

What? Wasn't it my cue for a musical number?

No.

But I love fucked-up Disney!

I said, no.

I clinically observe the vision of nightmare before me. I say, “vision of nightmare,” but I don’t feel much affected one way or another. It’s only a game after all. And even then, I didn’t know any of these NPCs.

With the tip of my leather boot, I scrape some of the dark brown-red mesh decorating the ground. Across the plaza, all the joints between the cobblestones are highlighted with a thick crust of dried blood. It’s not difficult to imagine that at some point the whole plaza was flooded with ludicrous amounts of the life fluid.

The one-million-gold-coins being: Where did all this blood go?

Indeed.

Pondering, my gaze returns to the statue, standing immaculate in the middle of hellish sight.

Definitely fishy.

Something at its base catches my eye. I’m about to walk forwards and investigate… when a wet sound resounds behind me. I spin around, but I discover that I’m alone. “…Thena?” No one answers, but the noises continue.

I gulp. “I’m not scared… I’m not scared. I’m just alone… in a plaza filled with corpses… in the middle of a cursed country… with ancient monsters out to get me—Okay. I’m scared. THENA!!!!” I run screaming out of the morbid square and back to the main street.

I stop in my tracks in a sideways slide when I find my semi-orc leaning against a house, holding herself up against the wall with both hands. She is facing away from me, and the puddle of half-digested food at her feet explains the origin of the wet sounds. Never before have I felt so reassured by the sight of puke.

I thought she was being eaten or something.

I approach with a quick glance around. Confirming the absence of any immediate threat—especially any of the cute-dhampir-princess-eating abomination persuasion—I gently touch the big woman’s shoulder. “Thena, you alright?” She’s stopped retching, but it doesn’t seem she’s heard me. She’s staring fixedly down with hollow eyes and even my attempts at shaking her don’t produce any reaction. A tremor under my hand makes me realise she’s trembling.

Faced with an unprecedented situation, I default to my… default response.

Violence.

“Hoy! Thena, snap out of it!”

I slap her as hard as I can.

Wait—!

Thena’s head slightly jerks to the side. Her erratic breathing slows down, and colours return to her face—she goes from pistachio green back to dark lime green. She blinks, and the first thing she sees—I assume—is a short woman with long, braided white hair descending almost to her waist, garbed in a one-piece dominatrix dark red leather suit… rolling on the ground and holding her wrist while whimpering incomprehensible curses.

“… stone head… woma… what …ck are y... …ade of… ammit!”

“Vicky?”

I stop rolling around and sit up, holding my forearm at the end of which my hand hangs limply. “…I think I broke my wrist.” I sob pitifully.

“……”

Thena obviously has no idea what happened. Her expression is like this:

( ・◇・)？

“Oh, never mind. I’m fine.” I flex my hand, which wasn’t broken after all, and jump on my feet. I look up at the big girl, who’s now touching her cheek the same way someone would if they weren’t sure a mosquito just bit them or not. I feel like crying inside. “I’m going back there to check something.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder towards the plaza. “You comin’? Or do you prefer to stay here and recover a bit? I guess it is pretty unsettling.”

Is it, though?

Who knows?

She stares at me for a few seconds, something flashing in her golden eyes too fast for me to interpret it. She looks over my head, takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. This time I have no trouble deciphering the stubborn expression on her face.

“You sure?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

She glares. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. What if you get yourself killed? You still have to lead me to Start City.”

“And I still owe you a bike too?” I raise the second eyebrow. Before she can react, I shrug and turn around. “Suit yourself.” I’m actually happy she’s coming. Not because I’m scared, but I just like being around her.

Not because I’m scared, okay?

We return to the bloody plaza. In the corner of my sight, I see Thena tense when we pass by the piles of corpses, but she doesn’t falter.

That’s my gal.

Still, I slightly increase the pace to leave the corpses behind faster.

“You said there would be no corpses.”

She probably didn’t mean to sound whiny and reproachful, but I can only hear the words of a wronged child. I look back with a chuckle. “Well, I was wrong. If you stick with me, you’ll see it happens… a lot.” She raises an eyebrow, but she doesn’t comment.

Instead, she asks, “Then what happened?”

“I just told you I was often wrong, and you ask me more questions?”

“I prefer to have a wrong hypothesis than no clue at all. I’ll form my own opinion.”

“You’re depressingly down to Earth. You know that?”

“Hey! I—”

“Well, that’s also part of why I like you, so no harm there.” I take a roundhouse glance at the square. “I would guess these people were used in some ritual of sorts. Your [Soul Sense] should have picked it up as well. Their souls are gone. The whole principle behind the Erwynian Grand Curse is that it prevents souls from leaving, unless someone pulls an Ambrose and rips open a gate directly to the Underworld, and even then—but I digress.” I scratch my head. “Some human sacrifices destroy the sacrifice’s soul. Those are the foulest of the foulest. And—despite what some members of the Temple would have you believe, calling them soulless abominations and whatnot—no undead can be made without a soul, which is why those guys,” I jerk a thumb at the piled bodies, “didn’t walk away on their own. A massive ritual would also explain why none of the corpses looks older than a few days old. Magic oversaturation can drastically slow down the decay process.”

“……”

Hearing no response, I look back, concerned, but Thena is just standing still, looking at me with a stupid expression on her face.

No, seriously, what’s up with that face. Close your mouth. You’ll swallow a [Rancid Buttershrimp].

I tilt my head. “Thena?”

“Ah.” She blinks. “I… err…”

“Are you alright? You look kind of flushed. You should be careful. Some of these zombies carry nasty bugs.” I open my inventory. “I’ve made a few antidotes, if you want one?” I hold out a vial filled with swirling purple liquid, but she steps back. Oh, come on. It’s not going to explode… probably.

“No, no, no!” She shakes her hands in front of her in a… bashful manner?

Something’s wrong here.

Thena? Bashful? Those words sound wrong together.

Doppelganger?

Nah. You’re just an idiot.

…( ・◇・)？

I raise an eyebrow, confused, and show the vial at Thena again. “You sure?”

“Yes, yes.” She coughs. “How do you know all this?” She looks away and coughs again.

Is she really alright? She’s coughing a lot all of a sudden.

…I give up.

What?

“You’re really sure?”

“Positive. I’m fine.”

Who have I heard say that recently?

*sounds of head banging on walls*

No, seriously, you got something to say?

……something.

Giving up on this absolute mystery, I shrug and drop the all-purpose experimental antidote back into my inventory. “Well, to answer your earlier question. Let’s just say I’ve encountered a lot of weird stuff in this world and leave it at that… By the way, I think I remember a ritual that involves draining a corpse of its blood too. The corpse would be left an empty husk that even monsters wouldn’t touch because of the foul magical corruption. Imagine nuclear wastes, but magical.”

Thena pales considerably.

…Ah.

“No, No, wait. That sounded way more dangerous than what I’m implying.” I laugh awkwardly, and she looks at me with worry. “Hahaha… Well, that aside, I just never saw that ritual done to such a massive scale. I wonder what these people were trying to achieve.”

We reach the statue.

Even from up close, it is only a statue of some random old man kneeling on a pedestal, his hands joined in supplication. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face anywhere, be it in an old book or a painting. Nothing comes to mind. Maybe a local celebrity or a famous man from a distant past, or just some artistic representation. Doesn’t really matter right now.

What’s important, though, is the magical circle that’s been engraved in the cobblestone pavement all around the sculpture in Edenic Soul Runes. At a glance, I make out the words for ‘Soul’, ‘Blood’, ‘Offering’ and… “Mmmmh…” That one either means ‘Open’ or ‘Broccoli.’

Why a written magical language centred on the manipulation of souls would contain a word for broccoli, I do not know. But it does. Evidently, broccolis have more to them than it seems.

What have you been hiding, broccolis!!

But, still, the word here should be open.

But open what?

Something in the statue, perhaps?

“I have a bad feeling about this… Vicky!”

I turn back to Thena, my hand already raising to touch the stone pedestal standing at the centre of an ancient runic magical circle written in the middle of a plaza filled with the bloodless corpses of the sacrificed citizens of a town in the middle of a cursed fallen kingdom overrun with undead creatures.

Distracted by the semi-orc, I lose my balance and faceplant against the aforementioned pedestal standing at the centre of an ancient runic magical circle written in the middle of a plaza filled with the bloodless corpses of the sacrificed citizens of a town in the middle of a cursed fallen kingdom overrun with undead creatures.

Pedestal standing at the centre of an ancient runic magical circle written in the middle of a plaza filled with the bloodless corpses of the sacrificed citizens of a town in the middle of a cursed fallen kingdom overrun with undead creatures.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

Victoria screams like a banshee, and everything fades to black.

* * * * *