Delric's house stood at the edge of Aulia Town, partially hidden behind a collapsed clocktower and tangled vines.
The structure was one of the few still intact, though time had gnawed at its bones—roof tiles were mismatched, windows patched with tinted plastic, and rust streaked down the old brass drainpipes like bloodstains. A faded crest—perhaps the town's old emblem—was barely visible above the warped wooden door.
Inside, the air was thick with dust and the faint scent of burning herbs. Candles lined the shelves, their flames flickering in a silent rhythm, illuminating walls covered in hand-drawn maps, cryptic sigils, and pinned notes. A wide table stood in the center of the room, cluttered with books, torn pages, and melted wax.
"This way," Delric gestured, his cane tapping on the wooden floor with each step. "Don't mind the mess. Knowledge isn't always tidy."
The team gathered around the table. Betty remained near the corner, arms folded and eyes scanning the room for danger. Luke-Man leaned against the wall beside a rusted heater, while Ash busied himself examining Delric's collection of ancient hunting gear. Ryland and O'kuyo knelt near the maps, studying the layout of the region.
Delric cleared his throat. "Five months ago, the first signs began—disappearances, slaughtered livestock, charred forests. Then came the attacks. Three monsters, each unlike the other, each tied to places long feared by our people."
He limped toward the wall and tapped three faded drawings pinned in a triangle formation. One showed a beast engulfed in flames, another a serpent with dozens of eyes, and the last a tall shadow standing amidst graves.
"I assembled a task force," Delric continued. "Hunters, scouts, a few brave fools. We lost half of them by the end of the second week. The rest… left broken. Those things are not just wild beasts. They're legends. And legends don't die easy."
Michael Lambda adjusted his helmet. "Do you know what awakened them?"
Delric's eyes darkened. "No. But something stirred beneath our soil—something old. All I know is that they returned… angrier, twisted."
"Where do we start?" Alan asked.
Delric pointed to the image of the flaming beast.
"Start with Ashfang."
The name hung in the room like smoke.
Delric continued, "There's a man—Old Rennik. Used to be a hunter. Lives on the outskirts near the broken rail line. He claims he saw Ashfang with his own eyes. If he's sober, he'll talk."
The next morning, the team trekked out toward the rail ruins. Nature had taken the tracks back—twisted steel rails poked out of cracked earth, and trees rose like giants around old cargo containers split open like dead beetles.
Old Rennik's shack was cobbled together from scavenged train parts and lined with empty bullet casings. A one-eyed man with skin like tree bark sat on a chair made of car seats, chewing something foul-smelling and stirring a pot of boiling mushrooms.
"You're Delric's new ghost chasers, aren't you?" he croaked.
"We want to know about Ashfang," said Ryland.
Rennik laughed, a hollow, coughing sound. "Of course you do. Everyone wants to hear the pretty story—until they smell the burning meat."
He stared into the boiling pot for a long moment before speaking again.
"Ashfang was a spirit once. Guardian of the Flame Caverns beneath Cinderpine Ravine. Protected the hunters. Brought fire to the cold. My father said his fur glowed like lava, eyes like molten gold. We left offerings—meat, bone, smoke. It was balance."
"What changed?" Michael asked.
"The quake," Rennik spat. "Biggest one in decades. Mountains cracked. Fire spilled. Something down there… broke him. Turned the guardian into a killer. He came out of the ravine that night—silent, burning, wrathful. Tore through two patrols like paper."
He reached under his chair and tossed them a charred helmet, the visor melted into black glass.
"Now he haunts the ravine, and the surrounding pines. Ashfang ain't a beast anymore. He's a wildfire with claws."
Alan crossed his arms. "How do we find him?"
"Follow the ash," Rennik said, his voice suddenly low. "Dead trees. Burnt trails. Bones turned to charcoal. But don't go in at night. That's when he roars."
With directions and warnings fresh in their minds, the team returned to base. On the cracked table inside the warehouse, Ryland began marking a route to Cinderpine Ravine. Betty prepared stew from wild roots and ration packs, while Luke-Man checked weapon calibrations. The mood was heavy.
Ashfang awaited.
And the hunt had just begun.