Boran stood in front of the portal and began to examine the enemies he might face.
[Rotting Walkers (Level 50–60)]
[Possible Drops: Lesser Essence of Decay]
Once devout villagers, their flesh has rotted and bloated, with pustules and lesions covering their decaying bodies. These shambling horrors move with an uneven gait, relentlessly pursuing the living through the village streets. They attack in groups, grabbing with cold, clammy hands and attempting to bite with their blackened teeth to spread their corruption.
[Wretchbound Howlers (Level 60–70)]
[Possible Drops: Clotted Fur]
Twisted amalgamations of man and beast, cursed during an ancient ritual. These creatures resemble half-melted werewolves with distended jaws and exposed muscle. They howl in ways that drive lesser minds to fear or madness.
[Hymn-Tethered Choir (Mini-Boss – Level 70–80)]
[Possible Drops: Tarnished Choir Mask, Stained Hymn Scroll]
Once acolytes, these floating husks are stitched together by their vocal cords and blindfolded with bloodied linen. They float in circles, humming a ritual hymn that causes pain and hallucinations.
[Hollow-Wombed Matriarch (Level 80–90)]
[Possible Drops: Blood-Soaked Talisman, Infested Bone Lantern, Lesser Wailing Egg]
A grotesque spider-like creature with a human upper torso fused to its back. Her womb is filled with blood-gorged larvae that burst from her when threatened. Her touch drains warmth, and her voice mimics loved ones.
[Gravemind Bell-Priest Varnaz (Boss – Level 100)]
[Possible Drops: Hollow Bell Heart, Priest's Bone Staff, High Essence of Dread]
A towering, decaying priest-like figure fused with an ancient bronze bell. As he drags it behind him, the sound of the bell distorts time and brings the dead to half-life. His voice is never heard; the bell tolls for him.
[Optional Boss – The Wolf-Saint Karavan (Level ???)]
[Drops: ???]
Trigger: ???
Karavan was the founder of the hamlet before its fall—now cursed into a lycanthropic demigod, encased in silver-blessed armor fused with his body. He speaks in riddles of salvation, and his silver claws split both flesh and spirit alike.
After reading the information, Boran took a deep breath. "So these are the enemies I'll face..." he thought. "Sounds like a place I definitely won't enjoy... Well, nothing to be done about it. Now that I've taken the quest, I can enter." With that, he stepped into the passage...
When he entered, the only thing he noticed was the mist.
A thick, motionless mist...
The moment Boran stepped through the gate, his lungs filled with the heavy smell of rust. With each breath, his stomach turned, leaving the musty taste of old metal in his throat. Before him was a square. A silent village square.
The stone path beneath his feet was cracked, with dry grass sprouting between the crevices. The houses he passed were crooked, with collapsed roofs and darkened windows. On some walls, dying lamps gave off a feeble light, making shadows flicker and dance against the walls. But even this trembling light was not enough for Boran to see what lay beyond the shadows.
He kept his hand on his shield. His steps were deliberate, slow and measured. His entire body was tense, alert to unseen danger. The soft footsteps with each stride echoed in the dead silence, returning to him as if they belonged to someone else.
In the center of the square stood an overturned horse cart—half of its barrels broken, the remains of rotten fruit still frozen in place. A few steps away, a headless angel statue... And behind it, distant but distinct, a crooked church building.
The church bell rang. As the sound shook the mist in the air, Boran flinched.
Then something incredible happened. As the echo of the bell traveled over the village, the thick curtain of mist began to ripple, then recede. It was as if an invisible hand was pushing the mist toward the edges. The sky cleared—but instead of blue, there was a leaden, pale sky. No sun, no stars. Just a gray moon.
When the bell stopped, the doors of the village began to creak. One by one they opened, and people slowly emerged from within. But these didn't look like normal people. Each had pale skin, almost ash-colored. Their eyes were dull and expressionless. They wore worn, tattered clothes.
At the other end of the square, an old man caught his attention. Unlike the others, he was looking at Boran. He wore a faded robe that had probably once been splendid. The old man slowly began to approach Boran.
When he came near, he looked Boran up and down. "Are you... a hunter?"
"You could say that."
"I need help! Please, listen to me!"
"Wait, wait. I just arrived here, I don't even know exactly where I am yet. If you tell me a bit about this place, I'll listen to your request for help."
The old man now seemed a bit calmer. There was a momentary spark of hope in his eyes.
"Come with me," said the old man. "Let me show you our village. When you understand everything, you'll better grasp what we're facing."
Boran decided to follow the old man. The pair began to move toward the empty streets of the square.
"This village is known as Bloodveil Crossing. We once had a happy life," the old man began. "These... shells you see now were once people who laughed, talked, loved."
After passing through a narrow street, they came to a wide clearing. Before them rose a large structure, clearly once magnificent, now with half its roof collapsed and stained glass windows broken.
"There," said the old man, raising his hand. "Hollow Chapel. This place of worship, once the heart of the village... now an empty shell. But the strange thing is..." He lowered his voice, "...there's something inside. Sometimes, you can hear a beating sound passing through its walls. As if the building has a hidden heart that's still beating."
Boran looked at the darkened walls of the chapel, the pale light seeping through its broken stained glass. For a moment, he noticed the stone wall slightly vibrating, giving the sensation that it was breathing. But then the feeling vanished.
"Can we go inside?" Boran asked.
The old man shook his head. "The main doors were locked from the inside long ago. No one knows how or by whom. We're also afraid to enter."
"The church bell," said Boran, turning his eyes to the broken windows of the chapel. "It just rang and the mists cleared. Then everyone started coming out of their homes."
The old man flinched, concern appearing in his eyes.
"The church bell... rang?" he whispered. "That's impossible. That bell has been silent for years. There's no one inside, nothing." He bit his lips, as if afraid to say something. "If the bell rang... could this be a good sign perhaps?"
"What do you mean, didn't you hear the sound just now? Why did everyone come out of their homes at the same time then?"
"We didn't hear it, none of us did. We just... come out when it's time."
They proceeded by walking around the chapel. They reached the other end of the village. The houses became sparse, and before them appeared a dark forest of dense trees, seeming almost impassable. The trunks of the trees were black, their leaves dark purple.
"Blackwood Forest," said the old man, looking at the forest. "It's like the border of the village. But be careful... this forest does strange things. Some people got lost there, and we never heard from them again."
Boran stood at the edge of the forest. A wind passed through the trees, the leaves rustled, but this sound wasn't a normal rustle. It was as if whispers, calls could be heard.
"Finally..." said the old man and pointed to the other end of the village. There, on a hill, rose a large, old mansion. Its roof was partially collapsed, its windows covered with wooden panels. There were thick chains and a large lock on its door.
"Shattered Manor," he said. "It belonged to the old lord of the village. Lord Karavan... When he was last seen, he locked his mansion and never came out again. Since that day, no sign of life has been seen in that house. But... sometimes at night, a light seeps through the windows on the upper floor. Some say something is awakening inside. And when it awakens... it will be the beginning of the end for all of us."
Boran looked at the mansion on the hill. Shadows danced on its walls as if they were alive.
"This is our village," said the old man with a sigh. "It was once a peaceful, happy place. Now it's... cursed. And we are trapped here."
Boran looked around once more. Now he could see the true face of the village. A place wrapped in fear, despair, and death. But at the same time, a mystery waiting to be solved.
"I understand," Boran said finally. "Now, what exactly do you want me to do?"
"In the last few years, very strange people have started to stumble upon this village in the middle of nowhere. Before that, no one ever came here... With their arrival, Varnaz's seeds, which never bothered us before, started to attack us. Even though these things are happening because of you all, we still need you. Whoever I asked for help, they told me things I didn't understand."
"What did they say?" Boran asked curiously.
"They said NPC quest rewards are too low. I don't even know what that means. They constantly demand things from us without even asking what we need. No matter how much I tried to talk to them, they ignored me. You... will you help me?"
"I'm listening. Tell me what you need."
"I've sworn on honey, son. My request is simple. Destroy the Rotting Walkers that harm us. These creatures wander the roads around our village and attack anyone who approaches. When they catch one of us, they turn them into one of their own. There are many of them, especially in the cemetery area behind the chapel. If you clear them out, the villagers will feel a bit safer."
"Alright, I'll do it."
The old man paused for a moment and looked at Boran in surprise.
"I didn't think you would accept so easily," he said with some hesitation. "Won't you ask 'what will the reward be?' like the others? I never expected you to agree to help without asking for something in return."
Boran smiled. "I understand what you need. If you want to give a reward, we can talk about it later. Let's solve this problem first."
The old man looked relieved. "Thank you, son. What was your name?"
"Boran."
"Boran... We will be grateful for everything you do. Perhaps you are the one we have been waiting for all this time."