Lokis Town lay in a forested canyon west of Falkreath, very remote, with only a single path connecting it to the outside. The people there lived on farming, logging, and mining. For generations they had dwelled in this place—simple commoners, working at sunrise, resting at sunset, leading ordinary lives.
But recently, the entire town had been shrouded in a dark, suffocating shadow. It felt as if death itself had spread across the land, ready to erase all life in its grasp.
"Sigh…"
Old Bent glanced at the dim sky outside and let out a heavy sigh. The sun had barely just set, and normally this was the time when men returned from work, tools slung over their shoulders, wives and children waiting for them in the streets. But now the town was silent and desolate, with scarcely a living soul to be seen.
Truth be told, just standing at his doorway and looking out, he almost felt as though he were the only living person left in the whole village.
Maybe it wasn't an illusion. Maybe tomorrow morning, he would wake to find the entire village deserted, perhaps the whole world devoid of life—himself the last living man upon it. And then… only death and ruin would remain.
Shuddering at the thought, Old Bent shook his head violently, pushing aside the dreadful vision. He lit an oil lamp, set it on the table, and picked up a book. Perhaps reading would let him forget, if only for a while, the nightmare that plagued his town.
Maybe… when he woke tomorrow, everything would be back to normal.
"Knock knock knock."
Just then, a sudden rapping at the door startled him so badly that the book slipped from his trembling hands and fell to the floor.
"Wh-who is it?"
A voice answered from outside.
"Sorry to disturb you, I'm a traveler. I had something I wanted to ask…"
A traveler?
Creeping cautiously to the door, Old Bent peered through a crack. There stood a petite, red-haired girl, hat pulled low, a large pack on her back. She looked troubled, uncertain, almost timid.
"What do you want?"
"Well… I've run out of provisions. If possible, could you sell me some rations? I tried the inn, but it was closed…"
A young girl, huh.
Hearing her answer, Old Bent hesitated, then sighed. Of course, he knew why the inn was shut. But to an outlander, it must have seemed strange.
Thinking so, he reached out and unlatched the door slightly.
"Well then, miss, what exactly do you—"
He never finished. Suddenly, a large hand thrust in, slamming against the door. Before Old Bent could react, a surge of raw strength shoved it wide, and a tall shadow loomed over the girl, eyes glowing blood-red in the dark.
A demon!
Old Bent's mouth opened to scream, but a steel-clad hand clamped over it.
The huge figure stooped and stepped inside.
"Phew… finally, someone not pretending to be dead. Not easy to find."
Duanmu Huai ducked beneath the low ceiling as he entered, his head nearly scraping the beams. Houses of this era were so cramped that even now, he had to stoop.
"Really, Sir Knight, did you have to do it this way?"
Guleya hurried in behind him, shutting the door fast and scolding.
"No choice. Everyone who sees me won't open the door. Without tricks, I'd never find anyone."
"I think it would help if Sir Knight changed his outfit…"
She muttered, eyeing the black power armor and skull-like helmet.
"What, should I paint it pink?"
"Uh… never mind then."
After the banter, Duanmu Huai turned back to Old Bent. The man was pale as chalk, drenched in sweat, eyes bloodshot. Who could blame him? A towering black steel giant had stormed in and seized him like a doll. It felt like this monster could crush his skull with a twitch.
"Listen. I'm going to ask questions. Answer honestly and you'll be fine. Relax—I'm no demon. I'm an adventurer, sent by Lord Falkreath to investigate. Do you understand? If you do, nod."
"Mm…!!"
Old Bent nodded with desperate force, and only then did Duanmu Huai set him down and release him.
At once, the old man collapsed to the floor, too weak to stand.
"Scared you? Sorry. But nobody else would open the door, so we had no choice. Forgive us."
"Y-you… you really are adventurers investigating this?"
Catching his breath, Old Bent finally regained a bit of composure. He looked nervously at Duanmu Huai, then at Guleya—the contrast between them so absurd it left him dumbstruck.
"Of course. You know I've no reason to lie, old man."
Duanmu Huai plopped down cross-legged on the floor, fixing his gaze on him.
"If we were demons, we'd have chopped you up for dinner already. Why waste words?"
"W-wait, Sir Knight, that's not a very nice way to put it…"
Guleya tried to interject, but Duanmu Huai simply reached over, caught her tail, and gave the underside a squeeze. She let out a faint whimper and collapsed, silent.
"Good. Now the noisy one's quiet."
Glancing at her, he turned back to Old Bent.
"Mind telling me what's been going on here?"
"O-of course… what do you want to know?"
Despite his fear, a flicker of hope rose in Old Bent's chest. If adventurers this… extraordinary had come, maybe they really could solve the nightmare haunting their town.
"Start from the beginning. When did things first go wrong? What happened?"
"R-right, I'll tell you everything I know."
Old Bent thought for a moment, then spoke.
"It began… maybe two months ago. I can't recall the exact day. Only that it was when Karl the carpenter died…"
"Died? How?"
"I don't know."
He shook his head.
"It was strange. Karl went logging in the morning. He came back, ate lunch, then rested. By afternoon, his wife was crying that he was dead. We were all shocked. He'd been perfectly fine at lunch, then suddenly gone…"
"What was the cause?"
"No one knew. Priest Allen, who tended the body, couldn't say. No wounds, maybe poison, maybe something else…"
Old Bent sighed heavily.
"That night, at the burial, I saw him in the coffin. Looked like he was just asleep. I even wondered if he was only sleeping. But there was no breath, and his body was ice-cold—not human warmth anymore."
"Hmm…"
Duanmu Huai nodded.
"And then?"
"Then… the real horrors began."
Old Bent shivered.
"Two days later, Karl's wife died too. No one knew how. A friend went to visit, knocked with no answer. Peeking through the window, she saw the wife lying in bed. When they broke in, she was already gone. Cause unknown."
He sighed again.
"People thought she killed herself from grief, maybe drank poison. So she was buried quickly. But then…"
"Let me guess. Next to die was that friend?"
Duanmu Huai raised a brow. Guleya curled up tight, while Old Bent nodded hard.
"Yes. Soon after, the friend died too! By now the town was uneasy. Three deaths in days, all connected. Something was wrong. We called the priest, but found nothing. Then, the friend's mother claimed her daughter came to her at night… said the grave was cold, she wanted out…"
"Eek!!"
Guleya shivered violently. This wasn't a ghost tale—it had truly happened.
"And the mother died as well?"
"Yes… the very next day."
"And then?"
"Everyone panicked. For days, no one dared leave their homes. But when nothing happened for a while, people relaxed, went back to work. Until news came from the mine. Five miners went down. Only one returned alive. And he swore… what attacked them wasn't beasts, but Karl and the others!"
"Hmm…"
"After that, no one dared enter the mine. We appealed to the Jarl. He sent men to search, but found nothing. Hearing Karl's tale, the commander had the graves dug up. And what we found was…"
Old Bent swallowed hard.
"Their bodies were gone! Every coffin had a hole beneath it. Clearly, they'd dug tunnels and escaped!"
"Beneath the coffins?"
Duanmu Huai's eyes gleamed.
"You're sure it was below, not above?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
Old Bent nodded vigorously.
"Everyone was terrified. Some said Karl and the rest had become ghouls. First the soldiers patrolled, then left empty-handed. We townsfolk formed patrols. But then…"
He rolled up a sleeve, showing a long scar.
"You were attacked?"
"Yes. They lunged out of the fog. We never knew what hit us. Several were dragged away. I barely dodged, or I'd be gone too. After that, none of us dared patrol. We begged the Jarl to send more men. This time, it was his personal guard. But… he was killed."
"Killed? You're sure? Not mysterious like before?"
"I only heard second-hand. The guards said he had his throat slit in his sleep. A knife was left by the body…"
"I see."
Duanmu Huai nodded. So that was why Lord Falkreath had been vague. It wasn't unclear—it was intimidation.
Otherwise, why leave the murder weapon behind?
"That's everything I know."
Old Bent finished his tale. Duanmu Huai pondered, then nodded.
"Alright. Then let's go."
"Go where?"
"Where else?"
He rolled his eyes.
"The graveyard, of course."
"…Whaaaat?!"
(End of Chapter)