Mist clung to Duskmire Forest, unwilling to let go of the night. The camp woke slowly. Breakfast was quiet and simple; dried meat, stale bread, and bitter tea warming cold hands.
Tor sat on a fallen log, sharpening his blade. The scrape of whetstone on steel echoed through the waking forest.
Nearby, Kael hunched over his traveling journal, quill scratching furiously as he recorded observations about the previous day's encounters. His eyes kept darting toward Jace with barely concealed curiosity.
"You look different," Kael said finally, unable to contain his interest any longer. "Your complexion is… clearer."
"He's upgraded from the slums, so I'm not surprised," Dren cut in. "Amazing what a few decent meals and a bath can do for street trash."
Jace took a deliberate bite of dried meat, chewed thoughtfully, and smiled. "What can I say? Life as a hero has been good to me."
The casual confidence in his voice seemed to surprise everyone, Dren most of all. His features twisted into something approaching genuine annoyance, as if Jace's refusal to be properly cowed was somehow a personal affront.
Elliot watched both of them quietly.
Before the tension could escalate further, a sharp cry from above drew everyone's attention. A messenger hawk descended through the mist, its wings cutting through the air with mechanical precision. The bird landed on a rock close to them, offering the scroll tied to its leg to whoever would take it.
Elliot rose smoothly and accepted the message, his fingers breaking the royal seal. His expression grew increasingly grim as he read the contents aloud.
"By order of His Majesty King Aldren: You are to push deeper into Duskmire Forest and uncover the source of the magical corruption affecting the region. Three separate scout patrols have vanished without trace in the past week. Proceed with extreme caution. Additional support may be dispatched depending on your findings."
A collective groan rose from the assembled champions.
"A waste of talent," Dren declared. "We should be striking at demon strongholds, not playing hide-and-seek with corrupted woodland creatures."
"The corruption has to have a source," Zara replied, "If scouts are vanishing, there's something in there that needs to be dealt with. I volunteer for the advance reconnaissance."
"So do I," Jace said immediately. The prospect of action and potentially more opportunities to test his upgraded abilities appealed to him more than another day of Dren's casual cruelty.
"Hold on," Jace continued, "We can't just abandon the merchants and head off into the deep forest. Someone needs to stay with the caravan."
Tor nodded approvingly. "Good thinking. The convoy is still our primary responsibility."
Dren's eyes flashed with irritation. "Don't think too much of yourself. I already thought of that." He gestured dismissively toward the wagons. "I'll stay here and ensure the civilians don't get themselves killed while you play explorer."
"I'll remain as well," Kael added, "Someone should document whatever you discover out there."
The division of labor settled quickly after that. Jace, Tor, Zara, and Elliot would push deeper into the forest to investigate the source of corruption, while Dren and Kael maintained the camp and protected the merchants.
******
In her private chambers within the royal palace, Lila sat in perfect stillness on a meditation cushion but she struggled with thoughts that refused to settle into their usual ordered patterns.
Opening her eyes with a soft sigh, she reached for the tome that lay open before her; a collection of divine genealogies and prophetic texts that had taken her centuries to compile. Her fingers traced the margins where she had made careful annotations, searching for some reference, some clue that might explain the anomaly that was Jace.
*Lyss,* she thought, the name like a puzzle piece that refused to fit anywhere in her vast knowledge. *Goddess of Desire.*
The pages rustled as she turned them, each one representing decades of careful research into the divine pantheon. She had catalogued every known deity, every forgotten aspect of divine power, every whispered legend of gods who walked in shadow. Yet nowhere in all her accumulated wisdom was there any mention of a goddess named Lyss.
Which meant either her research was incomplete—a possibility that wounded her pride—or something far more significant was at play. Gods did not simply appear from nothing. Divine power had rules, structures, hierarchies that had remained stable for millennia.
Unless something was changing. Unless the very foundations of divine order were beginning to shift.
******
They felt the corrupted zone before they saw it; thick, tainted air that made their skin crawl. Trees that should have been green and vibrant stood blackened, their bark weeping a dark substance that hissed when it touched the ground. Even the most basic forest sounds had ceased; no birds sang, no insects buzzed, no small creatures rustled through the bushes.
"This is where the scouts vanished," Zara confirmed, studying tracks that led into the corrupted area and simply… stopped. "Last patrol reported checking this location three days ago. Nothing since."
The silence was oppressive, broken only by the soft sound of their own breathing and the occasional creak of corrupted wood.
Tor took point naturally, his massive frame cutting a path through the poisoned bushes. Jace positioned himself in the middle of their formation, flanked by Zara and Elliot, their weapons drawn and ready. The tactical positioning felt right in a way that it wouldn't have just days earlier.
"Stay close," Tor rumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something this corrupted doesn't happen naturally. There's intelligence behind this."
They pressed deeper into the tainted forest, each step taking them further from any hope of easy retreat. The corruption grew worse as they advanced—trees not simply darkened but actively dripping malicious energy, puddles of standing water that burned with horrible phosphorescence.
Then the underbrush exploded.
A hound, corrupted by black magic, suddenly appeared, a frightening blend of natural beast and demonic malice. Easily the size of a horse, its body rippled with unnatural muscle beneath fur that had been replaced entirely by needle-sharp spikes. Its eyes burned with evil intent, and its roar shook them to the bones.
Worse than its size or weaponry was the thick, oily mist that began to stream from its pores—a pheromone cloud that quickly began to alter their thoughts.
"Scatter!" Tor bellowed, recognizing the danger immediately. "Don't breathe the mist!"
The advice came too late. The corrupted dire hound's chemical attack was already taking effect, and as the heroes spread out to avoid the worst of the pheromone cloud, smaller shapes began materializing from the beast's aura—mini-hounds spawned from pure corrupted energy, each one eager to tear apart their increasingly panicked prey.
Jace found himself facing two of the spawn-hounds, his sword felt clumsy in his hands as panic tried to override his newly acquired skills, but his focus provided just enough clarity to maintain some semblance of control.
*This is it,* he thought grimly as the spawn-hounds circled him. *Time to see if all those system upgrades were worth the investment.*