CHAPTER 15

MYSTERY OF THE WOODS

Mark dismounted in front of the village mayor's manor, a grand wooden structure standing tall amidst the smaller homes of the villagers. He knocked on the door, and a middle-aged man answered. "Yes?" the mayor inquired. "Who might you be, traveler?"

"I noticed a notice on the board about hiring someone to investigate the disappearance of woodcutters," Mark responded.

The mayor scrutinized him. "You do seem capable, like you can handle yourself in a tough spot. Alright then. Over the past few months, woodcutters have been vanishing in the nearby woods. At first, we thought it might be wild animals, but after the fifth disappearance, we knew something was amiss."

"Have you found any bodies?" Mark asked.

The mayor shook his head. "No, despite search parties, we've found no trace of them. Traveler, our village relies on woodcutting for survival. It's not just a few families affected – if we can't harvest wood safely, the entire village is at risk."

Mark nodded. "The notice mentioned a reward of twenty gold coins. I'm asking for at least forty."

"But –"

"I have the skills to solve this mystery and deal with any threat in the forest. You won't find anyone better. As you said, the village's survival is at stake."

The mayor sighed. "Fine... forty coins it is."

With a grin, Mark left the village behind and ventured into the nearby woods on foot. Thick foliage blocked much of the sunlight, casting a dark shadow over the forest. A mysterious fog only added to the eerie atmosphere, making navigation difficult. "No wonder those woodcutters went missing," he muttered. "This fog is making it tough to move around."

As he pushed forward, he stumbled upon a small wooden hut. The mayor hadn't mentioned anything about someone living in the woods. Strange, Mark thought. Why keep it a secret? It seemed unlikely they hadn't discovered it, given the extensive search parties. Shaking his head, he continued toward the hut.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

A woman emerged from the hut, captivating Mark with her enchanting smile and graceful figure. Her beauty was mesmerizing, and he felt drawn to her instantly. "Welcome, traveler," she greeted in a soothing, melodic voice, her gaze alluring. "You look weary. Care to rest in my hut?"

Mark nodded eagerly and followed her inside. Inside the hut, Mark noticed a simple setup. On the wooden table lay several books and potions, catching his interest. He leaned in for a closer look, but the woman seized his arm and planted a kiss on his neck. "Do you enjoy that, traveler?" she whispered seductively. "We could do much more together."

Though his body yearned for her, Mark couldn't shake a nagging feeling that something was off.

The woman picked up a potion. "If you drink this," she offered, "we could spend hours making love."

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Mark replied confidently, smirking.

"Please?" she pleaded, her expression suddenly softening.

Though tempted, Mark resisted. "I... I need to leave."

Her demeanor shifted, and she scowled. "Fine. If that's how you want it." With a wave of her arm, an invisible force struck Mark, sending him crashing out of the hut and onto the forest floor. He coughed up blood as he struggled to his feet, stunned by what had just happened.

Emerging from the hut, the woman's appearance had changed drastically. No longer youthful and alluring, she now resembled an old, grotesque hag. Mark was horrified.

"I'll use your life to restore my youth," she declared. Suddenly, everything clicked for Mark. He realized what had become of the missing woodcutters – they had fallen victim to this wicked witch, their lives sacrificed to maintain her illusion of youth.

Mark gripped his sword tightly and lunged ahead. The woman raised her arm, hurling fireballs at him. Swiftly dodging, Mark danced around the fiery onslaught, which instead engulfed nearby trees, filling the air with the scent of burning wood. With a decisive strike, he aimed his sword at the witch, but she conjured an invisible shield just in time to deflect the blow.

Retreating a few steps, Mark sheathed his regular sword and drew his spirit sword, its glowing green hue illuminating the dim surroundings. He hoped it could breach the witch's defenses. The witch unleashed an electrical surge, narrowly missing Mark, who watched as it crackled against a nearby tree.

He charged forward but the witch let out a piercing scream, assaulting Mark's ears with a painful intensity and causing him to momentarily halt his assault. Mark forced himself to press on, ignoring the painful noise. As the witch attempted to conjure another shield, Mark's spirit sword sliced through it effortlessly. With a decisive swing, he cleaved the witch in two, leaving her two halves sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood.

When the witch died, the fog lifted. Mark returned to the village and recounted the tale to the mayor, who was astonished as his search parties hadn't come across any hut. Mark suspected the witch had the power to conceal her dwelling at will. Accepting a pouch of coins from the mayor, Mark mounted his white horse and rode off from the village – for that is the wanderer's life, forever seeking new horizons.