CHAPTER 6 — THE VILLAGE OF LOST SOULS 🖤⚔️
The pine forest felt endless and eerily silent 🌲🌫️.
Tall trunks rose like giant spears, piercing the gray sky. A gentle wind whispered through the needles, carrying the scent of resin, wet soil… and something indescribable—the faint stench of long-dead death.
No birds sang. No animals stirred. Even the insects seemed to have abandoned this place.
Arden stopped, gripping his grandfather's faintly glowing blue staff ✨.
"This place… it feels wrong," he whispered.
Erik walked beside him, tense as if on a battlefield.
"On Earth, silence like this usually means one thing," he said coldly.
"Something has slaughtered everything."
Rocky trailed behind, his stone frame grinding heavily 🪨.
"I can feel lingering fear," he said.
"Traces of souls that have not yet found rest."
Soon, through the trees, a small village appeared 🏚️.
The wooden houses leaned awkwardly, roofs caved in, doors wide open as if abandoned in panic. Thick spiderwebs stretched between the buildings 🕸️, shimmering faintly in the sunlight breaking through the leaves.
"Maybe they evacuated," Arden suggested, trying to stay positive.
But as they stepped closer, hope vanished.
No signs of life. No furniture arranged neatly. Only sudden devastation.
Erik entered a sturdier-looking building—a blacksmith's house 🔥⚒️.
Inside, the fireplace had long gone cold, rusted tools scattered across the floor.
In a corner, he froze.
"Wait…"
On the floor lay a human skeleton 🦴.
Its bones were bleached white, yet the position suggested it had tried to crawl away from something.
Beside it lay a faded piece of paper.
Arden approached, heart pounding.
Erik picked up the paper and read aloud in a heavy voice:
> "To whoever finds this…
Please bury the scattered skulls across this village.
A wave of demons attacked us without mercy."
Silence fell ⚰️.
The wind ceased.
Rocky clenched his fists.
"They died without honor."
Without much discussion, they began the work 🕯️.
Rocky dug into the earth with his massive hands, tossing soil and rocks aside.
Arden gathered the scattered skulls from the houses, eyes misting over.
Erik stood guard, assisting, occasionally bowing in respect, as if giving a final salute to the victims.
When the burials were complete, the air felt lighter.
The spiderwebs in the blacksmith's house slowly collapsed on their own 🕸️➡️🌬️.
When they reentered the blacksmith's room, Arden froze.
On the previously empty iron table lay a sword ⚔️.
Its blade shimmered with flowing blue lines, as if it breathed ✨.
Erik lifted it slowly.
The moment his hand touched the hilt, he felt a warm vibration—not ordinary magic, but a soul.
"This sword… it's alive," he whispered.
Rocky nodded.
"It is a gift. Or a trust."
Arden stared at the glowing blade solemnly.
"Then we will protect it."
They named it Sword of Soul ⚔️💠.
With a new burden and a heavier purpose, they left the cursed village behind.
The pine forest swallowed their footsteps once more, while behind them, the village finally regained something long lost—peace 🌌.