"That was…"
Neither Kaelen nor Seren had anything to say. The journal hadn't contained much, yet it held so much information that they needed time to process it all. The Black Order, the Red Mist, Cassius and Adele—their stories raised more questions than they answered.
More importantly, uncovering the history of this world had never been their goal. Kaelen and Seren simply wanted to survive. Kaelen had hoped the journal would offer insight on how to traverse this realm safely—something akin to a survival guide. Instead, it offered little practical help, only fragments of information and glimpses into the nature of the horrors they faced. Still, there was one detail that stood out above the rest, perhaps the only clue that could aid their survival.
The bells.
They didn't yet understand how, but it was clear these bells were far more than mere tools of warding or relics of faith. Cassius had managed to wound and kill several of the creatures, and Adele had slain hundreds—an impossible feat for any ordinary human, or even a Demi-Human. The bells didn't just seal the monsters away; they seemed to amplify their wielders in some way, granting them the power to fight and defeat these monsters.
At the very least, that was the only conclusion Kaelen could draw. There was no mention of any technology or magic in Cassius's time, and his warning had been explicit: if you do not possess a bell, do not engage these horrors.
The problem was, they had no idea how to obtain one—or if such a thing was even possible anymore. Everything they had learned so far either confirmed what they already feared or made their situation even more dire. In the end, they were right back where they started—square one, with no answers and even fewer options.
Kaelen sighed, slipping the journal into her bag. "We should head back. We've stayed here far longer than we should have."
"I agree," Seren replied, standing and brushing the dust from her hands. "Though I'm not sure what we're going to do once we get back. Our original plan was to head for the kingdom, but after reading about Cassius's journey… every day of his expedition was hell." She paused mid-sentence, her expression tightening. "Wait."
"What is it?" Kaelen asked, turning to her.
"It's just… Cassius mentioned being attacked during the day. But the centipede creature we saw only appeared at night—it vanished when the clouds loosened. And we haven't seen any others since. Not a single one."
Kaelen frowned, considering the thought. "Maybe… something changed. There were centuries between their time and ours. It's possible the Red Mist itself evolved somehow. For now, we should just be grateful it did—if other horrors still roamed in daylight, we'd already be dead."
Seren shivered. "That's not exactly reassuring."
"Either way," Kaelen said, stepping toward the exit, "let's move. We'll get back to town, rest, and set out by morning to—"
She stopped mid-step as she reached the doorway. Her body froze, eyes widening as the words died in her throat.
"Hey, what is it?" Seren asked, frowning as she stepped forward. The moment she crossed the threshold, her breath caught in her chest.
Both of them looked up. The swirling clouds that had once loomed dark and heavy above were no longer gray—they had turned a deep, viscous red, the color of aged blood. The faint shafts of sunlight that sometimes pierced through were now tinted the same hellish hue, bathing the land in an eerie crimson glow.
Then they saw it—thick, black liquid seeping from the sky itself, dripping like tar. It oozed downward in long, quivering strands, but never touched the ground. It just hung there, suspended in the air, as if the sky itself was bleeding.
"What… what the hell?" Seren breathed, her voice trembling. "What in Maldruk's name is happening?"
"I… I don't know," Kaelen answered, her tone unsteady. "We need to go—now!"
Without another word, Kaelen grabbed Seren by the waist and hoisted her over her shoulder before breaking into a full sprint.
"Hey! I can move on my own!" Seren shouted, kicking her legs in protest as she hung upside down.
Kaelen ignored her completely. Whatever was happening to the sky, every instinct in her body screamed that it meant danger. She didn't have time to argue—or to keep pulling Seren out of the mud every few steps.
But they didn't get far.
From the side of a dead tree, a massive, scythe-like claw shot out, slicing through the air with a shriek. Kaelen barely ducked in time, the tip grazing her head and cutting off a few strands of her hair.
She dropped into a roll, clutching Seren tightly as they hit the mud. They came to a stop in the blood-soaked earth, their clothes now smeared with filth and fungal residue. Both women scrambled to their feet, eyes darting in every direction.
Then Seren looked up. Her pupils constricted.
"MOVE!" she screamed, slamming into Kaelen just as another claw crashed down, cleaving through the ground where Kaelen had been standing.
The force of the tackle sent them tumbling down a nearby slope, rolling through the muck before landing with a heavy thud.
Kaelen groaned, clutching her shoulder as pain shot down her arm. "What the hell is happening!? Seren!?"
She turned toward her companion. Seren was already struggling to stand, clutching her left arm—blood dripping down from a deep laceration that had torn through her sleeve, deep enough that the bone was faintly visible beneath. She had managed to shove Kaelen clear of the strike, but she hadn't been fast enough to escape it herself.
Kaelen gritted her teeth, fury and guilt tightening in her chest. Her instincts had dulled during her years of imprisonment—her reflexes slower, her awareness weaker. Because of that lapse, Seren was hurt. She forced herself to focus, scanning their surroundings through the red haze and clinging mist. They hadn't fallen far, which meant their attacker couldn't be far either.
And she was right.
The next strike came fast—aimed straight for Seren.
Despite her injury, Seren twisted aside just in time, the claw barely grazing her back. The creature's momentum carried it forward, its twisted body tumbling through the mud before both scythe-like claws plunged into the earth, halting its slide just a few paces ahead.
Now, they could see it clearly.
It stood upright—humanoid in shape, but grotesquely malformed. Its limbs were long and skeletal, its skin stretched thin over jutting bones. The chest was hollow and sunken, ribs protruding through gray, leathery flesh as though it were starving. Its head was elongated, its jaw hanging open in a gaping void that swallowed all light—no tongue, no teeth, no throat. Just endless darkness.
Like the centipede and the wolf-like monsters Cassius had described, it had no eyes—only empty sockets that wept streams of thick, black tears.
Its hands were gone, replaced entirely by curved, serrated claws slick with fresh blood—Seren's blood.
The creature tilted its head as it examined them, the movement unnervingly slow and deliberate. Then its gaze—or what passed for it—shifted toward Seren's wounded arm. It lingered there.
The corners of its mouth twitched. Then, impossibly, its jaw curled upward into a wide, warped grin. One claw rose to cover its face as a wet, gurgling sound escaped its hollow chest—a sound that warbled and broke, echoing through the forest.
Kaelen's stomach turned. The realization hit like ice.
It was laughing.
"What's so damn funny, bastard!?" Seren shouted, teeth clenched as her own claws began to form—scaled, golden, and trembling from pain.
"Seren, no! We need to run! We don't stand a chance against this thing!" Kaelen barked.
"Run where!?" Seren snapped back, her breathing ragged. "It's faster than us—and I can barely move this arm! Run if you want, but I'm already as good as dead! The least I can do is fight for my life here and now!"
Kaelen froze for a heartbeat, weighing her options.
She could run—abandon Seren, use the creature's distraction to escape, maybe live a little longer. Every instinct screamed for her to do it. She barely even knew this woman. Two days, at most.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
Even if she ran, she wouldn't make it far. And the thought of leaving someone behind—someone who had just saved her—made her stomach churn with disgust.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "Damn this place to hell!" she hissed, pulling a rusted knife from her bag. She dropped into a low stance, blade trembling in her grip, eyes locked on the creature as its laughter grew louder.
The creature lunged forward with a shriek, its body jerking unnaturally as it swung one of its claws down toward Seren.
Seren twisted left just in time—the blade-like appendage cleaved through the air, grazing her shoulder but missing its mark. Using the opening, she slashed at the creature's flank with her own claws.
Her strike landed—but barely.
The creature's skin, despite its starved and brittle appearance, was like hardened leather. Her claws only carved shallow lines across its side, thin trails of black ichor oozing from the wounds.
Before she could follow through, the creature swung its arm in a violent arc. The back of its clawed limb caught Seren across the face, sending her crashing through the mud.
"Seren!" Kaelen shouted.
She rushed forward without hesitation, rusted knife in hand. Taking advantage of the creature's distraction, she drove the blade toward its exposed side—only to feel it stop dead against its flesh. The corroded metal barely even broke the skin. The blade trembled uselessly in her grip, the hilt vibrating as though she'd struck stone.
Then the creature's head turned.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Its eyeless sockets locked onto her.
Kaelen's pulse spiked. She barely ducked in time as its claw slashed toward her neck, the force of the swing cutting through the air where her head had been a heartbeat ago. The wind pressure alone sent a sting across her cheek.
She rolled back, mud splattering her face. The knife—utterly worthless. She tossed it aside without hesitation, metal clattering against the wet ground.
This damn thing is useless, she thought bitterly.
She clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus. Damage was out of the question—she wouldn't even scratch it.
Her eyes darted over the creature's body—tall, thin, unbalanced. Despite its claws and terrifying speed, its frame was light. Every motion, every strike, sent its own weight forward uncontrollably.
It was strong, yes. Fast, absolutely. Durable, without question.
But it wasn't heavy.
The proportions of its body to its claws made every attack a gamble—each swing carried not just its strength, but its entire body with it.
And that… that was its weakness.
"Fine," Kaelen muttered under her breath, tightening her stance as she readied herself. "If I can't hurt you… I'll just have to knock you off your damn feet."
The creature's claw came crashing down, the blow striking where Kaelen had crouched only seconds before. She rolled through the mud, narrowly evading the strike as the monster's blade-like limb slammed into the ground with a wet, cracking thud that sent black soil splattering across her face.
Using the motion to her advantage, Kaelen twisted low and swept her leg out. Her heel connected sharply against the creature's thin, brittle shins. With a guttural snarl, the monster stumbled, its elongated frame collapsing face-first into the mud.
"Now, Seren!" Kaelen shouted.
Seren didn't hesitate. Already recovered from the earlier blow, she dashed forward, her golden dragonoid claws glinting in the blood-red light as she leapt onto the creature's back. With a fierce cry, she drove her claws deep into its back, forcing them in with all the strength she had left.
"Die, you bastard—die!" she screamed, voice cracking with rage and desperation. She ripped and stabbed again and again, her strikes wild but relentless, until black ichor sprayed across her arms and face.
The creature's scream was unbearable—a warped, guttural wail that seemed to echo from within its hollow chest. It swung its arm in a violent arc, the sheer force ripping through the mud and trees. Seren barely managed to tear her claws free in time, stumbling backward as the blow grazed her shoulder, leaving a deep, bleeding cut.
The creature rose unsteadily to its feet, its body twitching. The eerie grin was gone—replaced by something worse: fury.
But what froze both women was what came next.
The wounds across its back had begun to heal. Slowly at first—then rapidly. The torn flesh bubbled and sealed shut, the deep gashes vanishing under a layer of slick, gray skin. Within seconds, the creature looked as though it had never been injured at all.
Kaelen's eyes widened. "It's healing…"
Then the words from Cassius's journal echoed in her mind like a curse.
"We need to find and destroy its core—or we'll never kill it!" she shouted.
"Well, do you have a plan!?" Seren barked, her breathing ragged, one hand pressed against her wounded arm. "Because I'm running out of blood and patience fast!"
Kaelen's mind raced as she analyzed the creature's emaciated body. Its torso was skeletal, ribs pressing through skin—if a core existed inside it, it would have been visible.
"It's too thin to hide it anywhere in the body," she said quickly. "It must be in the head! I'll hold it down—don't move unless you see a chance to strike!"
Seren's eyes widened. "You want me to leave you alone with that thing!? Are you insane!?"
"Dammit, Seren—just do it!" Kaelen shouted back.
Seren clenched her fists. Kaelen was right—she had to conserve what little strength she had left and end this with a single, decisive strike. She took a few steps back, steadying her footing in the mud, golden eyes locked on the monster with unblinking focus.
As if understanding their plan, the creature twisted its head toward Seren—and lunged.
Kaelen was already moving. She threw herself between them, catching its arm mid-swing. The impact rattled through her bones, but she held firm, twisting her hips and using the creature's momentum against it.
With a shout, she heaved, flipping the emaciated horror over her shoulder. Its frail-looking body slammed into the mud with a sickening thud, splattering the ground with black sludge.
"Nice try," Kaelen said as she shifted into a fighting stance. "If you want to destroy the sword, you'll have to break the shield first."