Jacobs offered no immediate command, his gaze sweeping back over the tense faces gathered at the cave mouth. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken questions. "Thoughts?"
Her usual brightness dimmed by the oppressive atmosphere, Melly spoke first. "Could they still be inside? Unaware?"
Daniel shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "No chance. A Rank 3 would've heard us coming a mile away. They're not in there."
"Which means they knew we were coming and pulled back," Sophia added, her eyes scanning the treeline. "Smart move, if you don't know what you're up against. They're avoiding a fight."
Lumos, who had been silently scanning the dense treeline around the cave, finally spoke. "Or perhaps they withdrew, but not far. What if they're watching us right now? Observing the investigators."
A wry half-smile touched Henry's lips as he looked at Jacobs. "So that's why you pushed us to continue, Captain. You suspected they'd try to evade, draw us closer to their lair?"
"Merely wanted to hear your own deductions. Don't make me out to be smarter than I am." Pride flickered in Jacob's eyes nonetheless. "Alright. Plan stands, with precautions. Melly, Lumos - you hold the entrance. Torsan, find high ground, keep watch. Signal immediately if anything approaches from outside."
He gestured to the remaining three. "Henry, Sophia, Daniel - with me."
They plunged into the cavern's maw. The oppressive darkness was immediate, suffocating. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of old blood and the sickly-sweet smell of rot that caught in the back of their throats. The uneven earth underfoot was slick with viscous, black trails of dried blood. In the dim light from the entrance, they reflected in disturbing patterns.
Deeper within, the source of the stench became horrifyingly clear. Crude wooden stakes jutted from the sodden floor, stained a deep, wet crimson. Impaled upon them were fragments of human remains - limbs, torsos - dangling like grotesque marionettes. Skin was flayed away in ragged strips, revealing weeping muscle tissue. The fluid mingled with the black gore that coated the ground.
Scattered between the stakes lay heaps of decomposing corpses, crawling with obscene swarms of maggots, their sickeningly sweet odor a physical assault. It was a desecration that defied comprehension, a visceral horror designed to break the mind.
Henry clamped a hand over his mouth, bile rising in his throat. Beside him, Daniel gagged, turning away. Even Sophia, hardened by field experience, retched violently, her composure finally shattering before the sheer, calculated depravity.
Jacobs forced himself to observe, scanning the horrific vista for any pattern, any clue amidst the carnage.
Suddenly, a piercing shriek tore through the cave's oppressive silence - the high, urgent cry of an alarm whistle from outside.
"Ghouls!" Lumos's roar echoed from the entrance.
Instinct and training took over. "Move!" Jacobs barked.
They scrambled back towards the light, weapons drawn. Emerging from the cave, they found Lumos and Melly already engaged. A dozen or more hunched, grotesque figures had encircled the cave mouth - Ghouls, scavengers of the dead. Their dull yellow eyes glowed with malevolent hunger in the forest's dim light, sharp claws scraping against earth and stone.
But behind the lurching pack lurked a more terrifying presence - an Alghoul. It was significantly larger than its lesser kin. Muscles bulged beneath a patchwork of scabrous scales. Its eyes, burning with coal-red malevolence, seethed with an ancient hunger. Confronting an Alghoul was a deadly gamble even for seasoned Rank 2 warriors.
"Don't let them box us in!" Jacobs's command cut through the sudden chaos. "Melly, Torsan - ranged fire! Daniel, watch our rear! Sophia, protective buffs, now!"
Instantly, shimmering barriers of light, woven from Sophia's aether, enveloped each team member. Henry gripped his sword, knuckles white, focusing on the nearest surging Ghoul. The air crackled with a tension so sharp it was electric. The stench of death clung to them, a foul coating in their mouths and nostrils
The Ghouls lunged, jaws gaping, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. As the Ghouls lunged, the squad met them with coordinated fury. Henry's silver arc severed limbs amidst the charge, while Daniel's chanted words unleashed a blazing inferno that consumed several assailants. Lumos's warhammer fell like thunder, each earth-shaking blow scattering Ghouls or obliterating skulls.
From the perimeter, Melly's fiery arrows and Torsan's steel shafts rained down, effectively sowing confusion and creating crucial openings in the enemy ranks.
Through it all, the Alghoul remained still, observing the maelstrom with a cold, calculating stillness. It waited, a patient predator, its power a tangible threat. Only when one of Daniel's fireballs consumed a Ghoul directly before it did the larger creature react.
It unleashed a guttural roar that vibrated the very air, then lunged through the flames with terrifying speed. The creature's clawed hand blurred, slashing down towards Daniel's face.
In a heartbeat, Jacobs was there, his greatsword intercepting the blow scant inches from Daniel's face. Sparks flew as enchanted steel met monstrous claw. The sheer force drove Jacobs to one knee, muscles straining. "Careful! Stronger than expected!" he roared, forcing himself back to his feet.
The Alghoul's scaled hide proved formidable. Melly aimed a flaming arrow at its eye, but the creature tilted its head with contemptuous speed, the arrow glancing harmlessly off tough scales. Torsan loosed a volley; the shafts bounced off its back like pebbles. Henry darted in, aiming a powerful overhead strike, only to be swatted aside dismissively by a backhand blow that sent him tumbling.
"Sophia!" Henry bellowed, recovering his footing.
Her response was instant. "Blinding Dawn!" A searing golden light erupted directly in the Alghoul's face. It staggered, momentarily blinded and disoriented, letting out a pained hiss.
"It's stunned!" Sophia yelled.
Jacobs didn't hesitate. 'Crimson Cleave' He charged, his blade radiating power, carving a deep, bleeding gash across the monster's head. Black blood gushed, but the creature roared in defiant agony, still standing.
It coiled, preparing a savage counter, but Henry was already moving, a blur of motion. 'Piercing Fang!' His spinning thrust drove his sword deep into the creature's exposed throat, severing its enraged bellow mid-cry.
The Alghoul thrashed violently, but Lumos moved in for the kill. 'Hammerfall' His warhammer descended with devastating force, shattering the tough scales protecting its spine. The creature convulsed, then collapsed, twitching before falling utterly still.
With their leader fallen, Torsan, Melly, and Daniel swiftly dispatched the remaining, disorganized Ghouls.
The battle was over, but the tension hadn't broken. A foul, black miasma began to emanate from the Alghoul's corpse, a tangible residue of its dark power. The creature's head was severed without ceremony as Jacobs wiped black blood from his blade.
"We leave. Now," he ordered, his voice cutting through the post-battle adrenaline like sharpened steel. "Where there's one Alghoul, there might be more."
The team secured the area quickly, their movements practiced and efficient, before retreating from the accursed place.
Back at the forest's edge, under the fading light, Jacobs began piecing together the gruesome puzzle. "Seven missing villagers," he stated, his voice heavy. "We found twenty-five corpses in that cave, alongside animal remains. All mutilated, signs of ritualistic killing. Sacrifice."
He looked directly at Henry. "The ghouls. Your thoughts?"
"A diversion," Henry said, his jaw tight. The smell of the cave was still in his throat. "Something to keep us busy. To test us see what they were up against while they slipped away."
"Good," Jacobs acknowledged, then turned to Sophia, his voice low. "And the cave that scene?"
Sophia swallowed hard, her face pale. "A dark ritual," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "All those bodies they weren't just killed. They were used, sacrificed. They were trying to ascend."
"My conclusion as well," Jacobs confirmed, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "We're hunting a Rank 3 cultist trying to break through to Rank 4."
A stunned silence fell over the team. Rank 4, had they arrived only slightly later, after the ritual's completion, they wouldn't have stood a chance. Annihilation would have been swift, absolute. Thank the Angels for this? The thought coiled uncomfortably inside him.
Their mission - reconnaissance - was complete. They had gathered the intelligence, identified the nature and potential level of the threat. It was time to report back. They retrieved their horses from the relieved villagers and began the urgent ride back towards Aerion as dusk painted the sky in hues of bruised purple and fiery orange.
Twelve hours. A single low-rank mission that had unveiled scenes of brutal horror and brought them face-to-face with death, reminding them how thin the line was they walked.
The weight of their mission began to fade within the familiar, noisy confines of the Dunlyre Tavern. Here, the mood finally shifted. Jacobs raised the tankard of ale, exhaustion clear on his face. But then he smiled, a surprisingly genuine smile.
"That mission went sideways fast," he admitted, looking from one exhausted face to the next with a tired but genuine smile. "But the intel is solid. Command will appreciate it. And the Alghoul head is a nice bonus for the Bureau coffers." He grinned. "Twenty merit points each, plus a five-crow bonus. Drinks are on me tonight. What's your pleasure?"
A wave of relief, bordering on giddy elation, washed over the squad. Tension finally broke. Five crow was a generous bonus for a D-rank mission, a welcome reward. In Aerion, one hundred crow equaled a gold coin - a significant sum.
Rank 1 soldiers earned perhaps thirty to fifty crow a month; Rank 2s like Henry and Sophia, sixty to ninety. Jacobs, as a Rank 3 Captain, pulled in closer to one hundred fifty. For Henry, whose earnings often vanished into unavoidable expenses despite barracks lodging, the bonus was a tangible relief.
Steaming platters soon arrived: herb-roasted pork shank, tender and falling off the bone; bacon-wrapped chicken glistening beside roasted potatoes; dark grain bread with fresh butter. After a day fueled by adrenaline and stale rations, the sight and smell were overwhelming.
His tone rough with emotion, Jacobs toasted, "To the Angels, for watching over us."
The men downed strong amber ale; the women sipped sweet, light fruit beer, a local specialty. They fell upon the food like starved wolves. The pork melted in the mouth, rich with herbs. Bread smeared with butter and dipped in pork jus tasted heavenly. The bacon-wrapped chicken was succulent, bursting with flavour.
Laughter gradually replaced the weary silence, echoing through their corner of the tavern. The simple pleasure of a hot meal, good company, and survival began to ease the lingering darkness of the morning's horrors.
"Bit hairy back there," Jacobs repeated, more relaxed now. "Thankfully, your deductions were spot-on. Kept things from spiraling completely."
"You likely figured it out faster than any of us, Captain," Daniel offered, a rare compliment.
Jacobs chuckled, genuinely pleased. "Maybe, maybe not. Point is, you all got there. Your reasoning, situational analysis sharper. More thorough. Makes a Captain proud." He looked around the table, his usual gruffness softened, replaced by the warmth of an older brother watching his siblings grow. "You've all come a long way."