In Sjethia, magic was a privilege reserved for nobles. However, on rare occasions, a commoner would possess a latent magical ability.

These abilities typically manifested as enhancements to sensory perception, speed, or strength, though they were nowhere near as powerful as the magic wielded by nobles.

Scholars attributed this phenomenon to the presence of noble blood in the commoner's ancestry, no matter how distant, and referred to it as atavism. Commoners with latent magical abilities were therefore known as Atavas.

Flint was a renowned former bowman from the King's first regiment, known for ending a six-month siege in just ten days. He did so by firing an arrow into the enemy leader’s skull from an impossible angle at an impossible distance. He was an Atava with the ability to see far beyond what a typical person could.

The horrors of war, coupled with a head injury sustained in battle, had left Flint partially mute, yet he had managed to survive.

It was said that when he awoke in a medic tent, he had gone mad, strangling two officers before going outside and shooting an arrow through the forehead of a general who was giving a speech.

How he had managed to escape was unknown, but it was rumored that his small stature - Flint was shorter than the average woman - had something to do with it. Despite his diminutive size, Flint had one of the largest bounties in the continent, with a price of 300 gold coins on his head.

The group stumbled upon a murky pool, its surface shrouded in a thick layer of scum, encircling a misty patch of land as if it were a moat. The water appeared to writhe and bubble, as if something was alive just beneath the surface.

Flint gestured towards the opposite side of the pool, and Ehrwin squinted, trying to make out what lay beyond the mists. As the fog lifted, a rickety shack came into view, situated on the patch of land beyond the murky pool.

"Looks like the witch don't live in no palace, does she?" Dolly quipped, as she caught sight of the shack.

"Aye," Gaul said, striding towards the shack with a casual air. “Wait!” said Ehrwin. Gaul stopped short in front of the pool, and turned to look at the group, his hammer resting easily on his shoulder. "What? Why we 'angin' about?"

The murky water erupted in all directions as a massive creature emerged from the pool and lunged towards Gaul with its jaws wide open.

For any other person, it would have been a fatal attack, but Gaul Hammers, an Atava with extraordinary strength, didn't even flinch as he released his grip on his hammer and grabbed the creature by the jaws as it tried to attack him.

The weight of the creature pushed Gaul back, but with a fierce shout, he hoisted the massive creature and hurled it to the side.

As the creature tumbled on the ground, Flint swiftly nocked an arrow to his bow. By the time it had regained its footing, it had received an arrow straight through its eyes. The creature's legs gave out and it fell to the ground, motionless. Dead.

“Fucking hell” said Gaul, panting.

"What on Sjethia is that?" Dolly exclaimed.

"A Vorcrock..." Ehrwin muttered, mouth agape in disbelief.

“A what?”

The creature stood at over 20 feet tall, its scaly skin a deep, iridescent black that seemed to shift and change in the light. Its long snout was filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth, and its eyes glowed a bright, unearthly red. Its body was elongated, with powerful hind legs and smaller, almost vestigial front legs. Its tail was thick and muscular, tipped with a bony club. It had two pairs of long, curved horns protruding from its head, and a row of spines ran down its back.

Ehrwin only read about and seen a sketch of the creature in a book about legendary, extinct species. "Retreat! We don't know if there are—”

The water in the murky pool churned and bubbled as two more Vorcrocks emerged from the depths, their scaly bodies glistening, their beady eyes were fixed on Gaul, who quickly retrieved his hammer and ran back.

Dolly unsheathed her shotel, a curved sword with a sharp edge on one side and a serrated edge on the other, and prepared for battle. She stood with her legs apart, her weapon at the ready, waiting for Gaul to lure one of the beasts towards her.

Flint fired an arrow at one of the beasts, but it bounced harmlessly off its tough hide. It seemed that arrows were ineffective unless they hit the creature's eyes.

"Turn around and fight!" she bellowed, her shotel held firmly in her grasp. "I'll take care of one for you!"

Gaul quickly pivoted on his heel, hefting his hammer high as the Vorcrock lunged towards him. With a powerful swing, the face of the hammer connected with the creature's jaw, sending it tumbling to the ground.

Dolly, an Atava with enhanced agility, engaged the second Vorcrock. She expertly dodged as it tried to pounce on her, swinging her shotel, its curved blade slicing into the creature's tough hide, but it seemed to have little effect.

The Vorcrock lunged at her again, but Dolly nimbly dodged its maw. This time, however, the creature swung its tail, striking Dolly's arm. She cried out in pain as the blade slipped from her grasp, causing a deep gash that bled profusely.

The Vorcrock turned and roared at her menacingly.

Ehrwin stood frozen, sword in hand. He had only ever fought against humans before and never against anything of such massive size.

Teeth gritted, trembling, he closed his eyes and concentrated, the familiar tingling sensation spreading through his body as he accessed his internal stats sheet.

[Name: Ehrwin Bargunri]

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[Class: N/A]

[Health: 100/100]

[Stamina: 50/50]

[Mana: N/A]

He cursed his fate. With his current stats, he’d be nothing more than an easy prey for the Vorcrock.

A blood-curdling scream from Dolly rent the air, and he snapped open his eyes to see the monstrous creature had dealt another devastating blow to her other shoulder, sending a gush of blood pouring from the wound.

She was still agilely sidestepping the creature's attacks, but her movements were becoming slower and more labored, her stamina clearly waning. The creature's eyes were fixed on her, its massive jaws open in a hungry snarl, its muscles rippling as it prepared to strike again.

Flint was frantically firing arrows in rapid succession, but they were ricocheting off the creature's impenetrable scales.

Meanwhile, Gaul was locked in a fierce battle with another Vorcrock, the two of them locked in a deadly dance of hammer and maw. Despite Gaul's initial strike, the creature was still very much alive and fighting with all its might. The creature's jaws were snapping, its eyes were glowing with rage and its tail whipped wildly, narrowly missing Gaul.

Ehrwin felt a wave of despair wash over him as Bartrem's scathing words echoed in his mind, "You're a disgrace."

The chaos of the battlefield was overwhelming, with the hissing of the Vorcrocks, the pained grunts of his teammates, the gasping for air, the shouted commands, and the flash of lightning illuminating the sky all melding together into a tumultuous symphony of destruction. It tugged at the most primal and instinctual parts of him, making him feel like he was drowning in an ocean of despair and madness.

"Shit on it," he muttered under his breath.

As the Vorcrock lunged towards Dolly, who had stumbled and fallen, Ehrwin threw himself in front of her, raising his pointed sword.

He thrust it deep into the beast's throat, causing it to topple over and land on top of him, crushing him beneath its weight. The hilt of his sword struck his ribcage with a sickening crack, causing him to scream in pain. He could feel the warm blood of the Vorcrock and his own seeping onto him, and the sound of his own gasping breaths seemed to echo in his ears.

The beast writhed on top of Ehrwin for a moment before it finally lay still. Ehrwin struggled to catch his breath, feeling the weight of the creature crushing him. Blessedly, he felt it being lifted off him and he saw the familiar face of Gaul staring down at him.

"Chief, you all right?" Gaul asked, panting heavily. He nodded, still struggling to catch his breath. Gaul offered him a hand, lifting him to his feet. Ehrwin groaned as he stood, feeling the pain in his ribs.

"Doll, you?" Gaul asked, concern etched on his face.

She spat blood on the ground. "Just a scratch, nothing I can't handle."

"What happened to the other one?"

"Dead," Gaul said with a smile, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Bashed the critter's skull ‘till it was flat," he added, panting and hunched over. The victory, however, came at a heavy cost for Gaul, as evidenced by the bloodied and broken left arm, a deep gash across his chest, and various cuts and bruises covering his body and face.

Ehrwin let out a sigh of relief. "Let's hope that's the end of them," he said, looking around warily.

"Aye, sure hope so," Gaul echoed, his hand never straying too far from his hammer.

Ehrwin trudged towards the pool, determination etched on his face. "Let's see this through," he said, gesturing towards the shack with a nod of his head.

With weapons at the ready, the group treaded cautiously through the murky water, their boots squelching in the mud. Ehrwin felt a drop of water hit his nose, signaling that the rain was about to fall. They made it across the moat without incident and found themselves standing before the shack.

The wooden door had no handle and was slightly ajar. He exchanged nods with his companions before placing his palm on the door and pushing it open with a creak, revealing the interior of the supposed witch's lair.

The witch was not there, unfortunately. But, the shack wasn’t completely empty either. Two cots were arranged along one wall; the walls themselves were constructed of rough-hewn wooden planks, and cobwebs had collected in the corners. The musty aroma of damp earth and aged herbs hung thick in the air. In the far corner, a cauldron stood unused. The only source of natural light was a small, dingy window.

"This a witch’s dump alright" Dolly said.

"Search the place high and low, see if you can find anything of use," Ehrwin commanded.

He noted the rickety wooden table at the center, covered in a layer of dust, cluttered with flasks, cylinders, crucibles, and other alchemical instruments and parchments and quills. He leafed through the sheafs of parchment. They were all written in a language he couldn’t recognize.

"Good news, boys, I found some health potions," Dolly announced, holding up a few strange-looking vials.

Bless the Witch, thought Ehrwin, wincing at the pain in his cracked rib. She plucked more of what she found from the shelf along one wall, where vials, flasks, and rows of jars filled with various ingredients, from dried flowers and roots to unidentified animal parts were kept.

Ehrwin caught the potion that Dolly tossed to him, quickly uncorking it and taking a deep sniff. The potent aroma of herbs and spices wafted up to his nose, indicating that it was indeed a health potion. However, he couldn't be certain if it was safe to drink.

Fortunately, Gaul downed his potion in one swift gulp without hesitation, grimacing as the bitter liquid flowed down his throat, no doubt it didn’t taste great. But as soon as he finished drinking, his wounds began to close at an astonishing speed, the cuts and bruises on his skin disappearing as if they were never there.

"Holy shit," Gaul exclaimed, his eyes still closed as he accessed his internal stats sheet, "Just one phial restored 412 HP!"

Ehrwin gaped. What? Even the imperial health potions could restore only up to 350 health points at max.

"You better not be playin' us, Gaul," Dolly warned before drinking the potion herself. Ehrwin couldn't take the pain in his ribs any longer and quickly downed the potion in one gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste. Almost instantly, he felt warmth spread throughout his body, and within a few seconds, the pain in his ribs had vanished. He closed his eyes and took a moment to check his stats.

His health points were previously at 49/100 after the battle, but now they were fully restored. Furthermore, he felt rejuvenated after drinking the potion, rather than the typical dizziness that came with regular health potions. If he could get his hands on the recipe for this potion, he could make a fortune selling it in the capital.

"Damnation, this stuff is bloody amazing!" Dolly said.

The sound of rain pelting the roof filled the shack, and Ehrwin knew they were going to be stuck there for a while.

Flint, being resourceful as ever, lit a few candles scattered throughout the room, providing enough illumination for Ehrwin to spot a book on the wooden table that he had missed. The book was of considerable weight, bound in black leather and worn at the edges, covered in dust. Ehrwin picked it up, blowing off the dust and wiping it with the palm of his hand. He examined the cover and read the title, "The Way of The Poisoner."

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass interrupted his thoughts. He quickly identified the source of the noise and saw that a jar had been knocked over, its pieces scattered across the floor. Gaul had done it again. Ehrwin shot him a hard look.

"Bloody hell, Gaul, what have you done now?" he said, staring at the shattered jar and the dark goo seeping out.

"I didn't mean to! This damn thing just got hot as a brand in my hand and slipped," Gaul protested, holding up his singed fingers as evidence.

"What in all the hells is that?" Dolly said, her gaze fixated on the mysterious black substance.

The gooey pieces seemed to writhe and come together, forming into bubbles that grew larger and taller. The group was taken aback, unsure of what to make of the strange occurrence.

As they drew their weapons, ready for any possibility, the bubbles suddenly formed into the shape of a small, charcoal-skinned creature. Standing no taller than two feet, the dwarf-like being stood upright on its legs, its long pointy ears and creased forehead marking its distinct appearance.

"Hello," it croaked, its gaze now fixed on the group. “My name is Bog, and I am most grateful to you all for getting me out of there.”