Ran could tell from the first moment that it wasn't going to be easy.
The others didn't talk to him. Didn't even look at him unless it was with contempt. He heard the whispers behind his back, felt the tension in the air when he walked into the guild's meeting hall. The mercenaries didn't hide their distaste. Maybe because he was a bastard. Maybe because he was an exile.
He didn't care though.
Geld stood at the front of the room with his arms crossed, flanked by his brother, Kelt. The heavy thud of boots echoed as the rest of the Moonwrath Mercenaries gathered around. It wasn't common for Geld to call a meeting unless there was a mission.
Kelt was the first to speak.
"We've received a mission from the capital registry. It is very dangerous and high-tier. The kind you don't usually see assigned to mercenaries like us. Twenty gold on completion."
A few gasps broke out. That was a small fortune for any one of them. But the moment the reward was revealed, the second shoe dropped.
"It's an investigation of Elior Forest."
One of the mercs leaned forward, frowning.
"Why Elior? That place's always been quiet. Full of harmless beasts and animals."
"That's what makes it strange. We've received reports of travelers going missing. Entire caravans. No survivors. A traveler reached the capital recently, half-mad, speaking of slaughter of his family."
Geld nodded.
"The Bloodrune house declined the mission. They're occupied with something else. So the quest landed on our table. And we're the most capable group available."
A wave of murmuring spread through the room.
Ran didn't move. His heart was beating steadily, but he felt the first ripple of uncertainty. He knew Elior. It was part of the wider territory once owned by the Bloodrunes. A place used for training grounds in his younger days. It was peaceful and almost dull. What could've possibly changed?
"If anyone wants to back out, now's the time."
Chairs creaked. Breath held.
No one stood.
Not even Ran.
Of course he wouldn't. He needed this job more than any of them. Even if the forest had turned into a pit of demons, he would walk through it. He had three years to live, maybe less. Dying with purpose beat wasting away in silence.
"Good, We leave at noon."
The road to Elior was uneventful.
Ran walked near the back of the group, listening. He noted how most of the mercenaries stuck to their cliques—how the same men who sneered at him in the guild hall didn't speak a word now. But their guard was down. He heard their whispers.
"It's just a forest."
"Easy money."
"No way this is high risk. Just rumors."
Fools, Ran thought. Anything that paid that much was never easy.
Even Geld looked mildly skeptical, but he didn't voice it. He kept his eyes forward. Kelt occasionally jogged to scout ahead, then returned to give quick updates—birds chirping, minor beasts spotted, no signs of threats. Elior looked... normal.
By mid-afternoon, they had passed the outer ring of the forest. The sun filtered lazily through the thick green canopy. Birds flitted from branch to branch. A pair of deer crossed their path, completely undisturbed. Even the occasional beast they saw—a spiked lizard, a wild boar—scurried away at the sound of their footsteps.
Ran narrowed his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Not because there was danger, but because there wasn't.
Kelt jogged up beside Geld again.
"You think this is a bust?"
Geld glanced at him.
"Too early to tell. Stay alert."
Then it happened.
The chirping stopped. No rustle. No hooves. No wind. Everything went silent.
A silence so absolute it pressed against their ears. Geld drew his sword in a smooth motion.
"Form up!"
Everyone scrambled into position. Square formation—four sides protected, center open for command. Ran moved into the left flank, raising his iron sword, legs slightly apart. His limbs were already tired from the walk, the mana drain eating at his strength like it always did. But he didn't falter.
Then the ground shifted. Or maybe it breathed.
A ripple passed through the dirt, and something began to emerge from beneath the forest floor like a wraith rising from a grave. The air turned colder. Even the light filtering from the trees seemed to dim.
It was tall, slender, dressed in a tattered black robe that clung to its bony frame. Its limbs were long. Its face pale, almost corpse-like, with hollow cheeks and a sharp chin. Two bulging eyes stared out from beneath its messy blue hair that splayed like an upside-down umbrella.
Then it smiled.
A slow, curving, wrong smile and laughed, a high-pitched, maniac laugh that echoed like blades scraping bone.
"Welcome to my slaughterhouse."
The words hung in the air like a curse.
Every mercenary froze. Some gripped their weapons tighter. Others shifted nervously. Ran didn't move. He just watched. The thing felt extremely dangerous. Was it even human in the first place? It was very grotesque.
"Identify yourself!"
Geld demanded but the creature kept laughing.
"Are you the one behind the disappearances?"
Kelt asked, trying to sound firm.
The shadow twisted its head in an unnatural angle, bones cracking like branches.
"Disappearances? Oh no. They didn't disappear... They're still here. Inside my gut."
Kelt visibly felt disgusted.
Geld raised his blade.
"Everyone—ready for battle!"
Ran exhaled quietly and lowered his center of gravity, gripping the sword with both hands. His muscles ached. The mana drain felt like lead in his veins. But his eyes were clear.
This wasn't training. This wasn't politics. This was survival.
If this thing was behind the killings, and if it had magic powerful enough to destroy entire caravans... then it was also possible it could kill Ran. Ran's lips barely moved.
'Don't die yet. Not until I get what I need. You still need to live a long life'
The shadow floated forward, arms stretched.
"Let the slaughter... begin."