Kael lifted his head, sensing something in the air.
"We're here," James said, his voice heavy.
"Yeah. The silence is strange. I think we're too late."
They climbed down from the carriage.
"We haven't met Tom yet," Kael said.
"Tom's here," James replied lazily.
"He's the one who sent the report, man." Kael responded to James's bewilderment with boredom.
"Fine. Let's split up. You look for him, I'll check the village. Be careful."
James smirked sarcastically. "Worried about me?"
"Yeah. Worried I'll have to carry your corpse."
James laughed as he walked away.
Kael moved through the village.
He glanced back more than once. As if searching for something.
Maybe I'm imagining it.
He drew his sword. Hesitated for a moment, feeling its familiar weight, then continued walking.
The silence was absolute. No insects. Nothing. Only dry leaves whimpering under his boots, reminding him that time was still passing.
After circling the village, he found nothing unusual.
But the feeling never left him.
A sense of dread.
---
Karl had been watching the two men until the carriage stopped.
He held his breath when he saw the strangers descend and then part ways.
He hesitated. Then followed the one who had drawn his sword.
The stranger passed by his house. Karl trembled.
But the man showed no interest in him. He just kept walking.
Every passing second pressed down on Karl's chest.
Karl saw him heading toward the river.
His heart clenched.
How will he react when he finds Leonard's body?
He stopped outside, watching.
Minutes passed as he watched.
He's taking too long... what is he doing in there?
"What are you doing here, child?"
A sharp voice cut through the flow of his thoughts and made him jump in place.
---
Kael touched his chest where the pain had intensified.
Something's inside, Kael thought.
He advanced cautiously toward the interior.
He pinched his nose when the metallic scent of blood hit him, then breathed deeply to acclimate to the place.
Inside, the scene shocked him. His eyes swept the floor, where there were footprints—some of them small.
A child?!! Kael wondered.
Scattered papers, and small drops of blood leading to the stairs—barely noticeable, almost hiding from him.
He approached the pile of papers thrown on the floor.
Notes?
He sifted through the papers, studying them seriously.
Very detailed. Kael didn't understand most of them, but he suspected something.
His gaze moved around the room, and his attention was drawn to stairs leading upward. The small footprints led there. He decided to follow them.
He climbed the stairs. The smell was so overwhelming that he nearly retreated, had he not been accustomed to such things.
Then there was the corpse itself—the one Karl had seen.
Kael furrowed his brow as he contemplated the scene.
Then he began focusing on everything.
The ropes, the wounds, the method of execution—he missed nothing.
Then he started sweeping the room.
There was a desk lit by a lantern.
He found one of the drawers—it looked like its lock had been smashed. The wood around the lock was shattered, as if someone had wrenched it open with force.
They were looking for something.
He approached it, opened the drawer. There was a box made of some mysterious material.
On it was a symbol: a mirror with an infinite crack, and an eye.
His eyes widened.
After searching the rest of the rooms on the second floor, he found nothing, so he returned downstairs.
By the entrance was another room from which the smell of mold emanated.
The door was closed.
He stood before it, then pushed it open, finding it unlocked.
Inside the room was a bookshelf—it looked as if it was made to hide what was behind it, but now it had been moved.
Darkness spread from the entrance.
Nothing appeared except the first steps descending downward.
Kael picked up one of the lanterns scattered around the room and entered.
With each step he took, the sounds grew louder.
At first they were just murmurs—he thought it might be the wind outside. But as he continued his descent, the sound increased.
Step after step, he could make it out: human moans.
The lantern that drove away the darkness before Kael allowed him to see the strange room.
Numerous cells lined both sides—three on each side.
Some were empty, except for a few bloody scratches on the walls.
In some, there were drops of blood or human waste.
Some were completely clean.
Yet, the sound continued.
At the last cell, a sound suddenly emerged.
An irritating sound, like someone scratching a wall with their fingernails.
Kael looked inside.
His fist clenched.
There was a person there. Or what remained of one.
He couldn't determine their gender at first. But from the visible curve in the chest area, he decided: female.
She was emaciated. Terribly emaciated, as if she hadn't eaten in days.
Her skin was black and rotting.
But Kael caught something.
A delicate jawline.
She was beautiful, Kael thought.
Her hair was dirty, slightly long. Her fingernails were broken—but she scratched the wall with them anyway.
She didn't care about the intruder. She continued her motion.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
It irritated Kael deeply. But he didn't stop her. Not because of the bars.
Maybe because he remembered something. Or maybe he was glad—glad he didn't remember his mother like this.
On the walls: scratch marks. Most of them bloody.
There was vomit too.
Scraps of food on the floor, mixed with human waste. The woman didn't care. She just kept moving. Kept scratching.
He tried to push the door.
Normally, he wouldn't do this. This wasn't what he trained for. At least not like this.
But something in him—shock, perhaps—pushed it open.
He raised his sword. Stabbed her.
She looked at him.
He looked at her. No anger in her eyes. No pain. Just the void.
But beneath that infinite layer of emptiness, something flickered for a moment. Then vanished.
He couldn't name it. Hatred? Relief? Gratitude? A curse?
He couldn't tell. And he didn't care. He simply did what he came to do.
She fell before him.
He leaned down. Closed her eyes.
He wiped his sword clean with one strong motion, then sheathed it.
And left.
At the end of the corridor, between the facing cells, there was an open space.
The floor was originally black. But the pools of red made that hard to tell.
In the center of the space: a table.
More papers. The work of obsessed eyes.
Kael grabbed them. Without another glance, he folded them and put them in his pocket.
But from one glance, he caught a single sentence:
The Void does not heal. It spreads.
His eyes widened.
He flipped to the next page quickly.
Just a few words:
"The Sentient Void Plague (SVP)"
He folded the papers. Put them in his pocket.
Kael continued exploring the cellar but found nothing else. He went back upstairs.
---
Karl turned to look at the source of the voice.
A deep scar was the first thing Karl saw.
"Boy, what are you doing?"
Karl didn't answer.
The gaze of the man who had been in the cart moments ago seemed to scan him, studying Karl intently.
"Oh... so you're unaffected. Interesting."
The man scratched his head as he spoke.
Karl thought about running, but the stranger was too close. He knew that if he tried anything, the outcome wouldn't be pleasant.
Realizing this, a deep despair washed over him.
"Oh, no need to be afraid," the man said.
"We won't hurt you. At least... not now."
"Come, follow me."