The creature lunged, its skeletal arms reaching for him with alarming speed. Aldwyn sidestepped, the silvered steel of his blades flashing in the moonlight as he slashed at the creature's torso. It screeched, a sound like a thousand fingernails on a chalkboard, as the swords bit deep into its bone.
But the creature was not alone. With a cacophony of clanking and rattling, an army of skeletons burst from the shadows, swords and spears at the ready. They surrounded him, their empty sockets gleaming with an unnatural light.
„Necromancy? Hell, that's not good at all..."
Aldwyn's heart hammered in his chest, but he did not falter. He knew this battle was his to win or lose. He sprang into action, his twin blades a whirlwind of steel. He sliced through the first rank of skeletons with ease, their brittle bones shattering under his swift and precise strikes.
The creature, unfazed by its minions' demise, swung its sword in a wide arc, forcing Aldwyn to leap over the flaming blade. He landed on a nearby rooftop, his boots cracking the shingles. The creature pursued, its skeletal frame moving with surprising agility.
Aldwyn surveyed the rooftops, each one a potential battleground. He reached for his belt on which the potion of endurance was attached.
He took a swig, feeling the warmth spread through his veins as the elixir took effect. The creature's blade sliced through the air where he had just been a moment before, missing him by a hair's breadth. He used the momentum of his jump to propel himself off the edge of the roof, twirling in midair before landing nimbly on the cobblestone street. The skeletons closed in, their clattering bones a grim symphony of death.
Aldwyn weaved through the undead horde, his blades dancing a deadly ballet. He ducked and dove, using the village's narrow alleyways to his advantage. He leapedfrogged over a fountain, using its spray as cover to blind the skeletons before slashing through their ranks. His movements were a blur, a silver streak cutting through the tide of bone and ash. The creature watched, its fiery eyes tracking him, its sword smoldering with dark energy.
The colossal skeleton took a step forward, the ground trembling beneath its weight. It brought its sword down in a massive chop, aiming to split Aldwyn in two. He rolled aside, the blade embedding itself in the cobblestone with a shower of sparks. Seizing the opportunity, Aldwyn climbed up the creature's arm, his cloak fluttering like a banner of shadow. The creature roared, shaking the very air as it tried to dislodge him.
Aldwyn's boots found purchase on the skeleton's bony shoulder, and he launched himself at the creature's head. The skeleton swiped at him with its free hand, but Aldwyn was too quick, ducking beneath the grasping fingers. His twin blades sunk into the creature's skull, the bone crunching with the sound of dry twigs snapping.
The creature roared, its fiery eyes burning brighter. The ground around them cracked as it stumbled backward, pulling its sword from the cobblestone. The skeletal army surged forward, their weapons clanging against the buildings as they closed in.
Aldwyn's eyes darted around, assessing the environment for any advantage. He spotted a wooden cart laden with barrels of oil. His silver eyes gleamed with understanding.
He dashed towards the cart, evading the creature's clumsy swipes with ease. With a swift kick, he sent it rolling down the cobblestone street, the barrels bouncing and clattering. The skeletons gave chase, their movements synchronized yet clumsy. As the cart neared the bonfire, Aldwyn took aim with his revolver, firing a single shot that shattered a barrel. The oil spilled forth, coating the ground in a slick, flammable river.
The creature, blinded by rage, didn't notice the trap. It lunged again, its sword a fiery arc of death. Aldwyn rolled aside, his blades carving a path through the skeletons that followed. As the creature's sword met the ground, Aldwyn pounced, driving his blades into the joints of its knees. The creature roared in pain, its skeletal legs buckling.
With a grim smile, Aldwyn took a step back, reloading his revolver with the blessed silver bullets. The creature struggled to rise, its fiery eyes never leaving him. The air grew taut with anticipation as Aldwyn took aim, the barrel of the gun centering on the creature's skull.
"You think you can kill me, mortal?" The creature's voice was a guttural growl, the flames in its eyes flickering with anger.
Aldwyn's hand was steady, "I know I can," he replied. He took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, echoing through the silent village. The bullet pierced the creature's skull, extinguishing the fiery embers in its eyes. It collapsed with a thud that seemed to shake the very earth, sending a wave of skeletal minions toppling.
For a moment, the world stood still, the only sound the crackling of the bonfire. Then, as if a spell had been broken, the air was filled with the clatter of bone as the skeletons crumbled to dust. The tension that had gripped the village was suddenly gone, leaving only the stench of burnt flesh and ash
Aldwyn approached the creature's remains, his blades still dripping with the dark fluid that had once been its lifeblood. From the ashes, a single object emerged, untouched by the flames. It was a tome made of black skin that glowed in purple.
He picked it up with a sense of foreboding, feeling the power emanating from it. The leather was cold to the touch, the pages brittle yet eerily preserved. The words within were written in an ancient script. As he flipped through the pages, his eyes fell upon an illustration that mirrored the creature he had just slain.
The book spoke of a time long ago when the world was young and the gods still walked among mortals. It was said that a powerful sorcerer, driven by a hunger for knowledge and power, had delved into forbidden texts, seeking to understand the very fabric of existence. In his quest, he discovered a way to bind the essence of a deity into a mortal form, creating a creature of unparalleled strength and malice. This creature was named the Redemptive Reaper, a being born of the divine yet corrupted by the sorcerer's dark ambition.
Aldwyn's eyes widened as he read further, realizing that the creature he had just slain was not a mere beast of the night but a harbinger of something much more sinister. The tome spoke of the Redemptive Reaper's purpose: to cleanse the land of all who opposed the will of the Outer Gods, paving the way for their dominion. The creature's destruction was only a temporary reprieve; the true enemy lay hidden in the shadows, orchestrating a war that could consume the world.
„Outer Gods? Is this referring to the gods to whom we pray and perform rituals? This is the first time I've heard this term in this context." Aldwyn looked up from the book with a furrowed brow.
„This is also the first time I've heard the term Redemptive Reaper..."
Lila had joined him, her face a mask of horror as she stared at the charred earth where the creature had fallen.
"What is this?" she whispered, her hand trembling as it pointed at the tome.
Aldwyn closed the book and slid it into the depths of his satchel, his expression grim. "I'm not entirely sure."
They mounted their horses, leaving the lifeless village behind them. Aldwyn knew they couldn't risk camping within the village's cursed borders. They had to find a new place, one that felt less tainted by the darkness that had claimed Eldenbrough. He led them to a clearing he had noticed earlier, nestled at the base of a hill. The area was surrounded by thick brush, which offered some protection from the forest's predators. The ground was firm, with just enough space to build a small fire.
As they set up camp, Lila couldn't help but cast furtive glances at Lady Roxanne. Her resilience was astonishing, considering the horrors they had witnessed. Yet, there was a brittleness to her that spoke of a strength close to breaking.
„It was really fortunate that I was with them... They would probably be dead without me." Aldwyn thought.
"Lila," he said, his voice low and serious. "This isn't the life for everyone. You should probably think about doing something else."
Lila paused in her task of setting up a makeshift bedroll for Lady Roxanne, her eyes meeting his. "What makes you say that?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.
Aldwyn leaned against a tree, the shadows playing across his stoic face. "You both simply would be dead without me, I think we all realize that. No matter how good you are with your sword, it's useless against the dangers of the world."
Lila's gaze hardened. "And you think you're the only one who can handle this?"
Aldwyn's eyes remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable. "I do."
The silence between them grew thick, tension coiling in the air like a living creature. Finally, Lady Roxanne spoke, her voice small but firm. "We all make our choices, Mr. Aldwyn. Whether we survive them is not for you to decide."
Aldwyn looked at Lady Roxanne before turning his attention back to Lila. "As you wish, after this mission you should still do some research. Inform yourself about the pathways and choose the one that suits you best!"
With the camp secured, Aldwyn took the first watch, his eyes scanning the perimeter with unyielding vigilance.
....
Meanwhile, at House Valthorne, Deole Mitchell stared out the window of his chambers, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight as he contemplated the recent revelations. The Crimson Merchant's theft was a direct affront to his house's honor, and his link to the Hollow was an unsettling development. His hand clenched into a fist, the knuckles white with tension. He could not sit idly by while darkness crept across the city, threatening everything he held dear.
With a sharp nod, he turned from the window and approached his desk, the heavy oak a bastion of his authority. He scribbled a hasty note, summoning a trusted aide. The man arrived promptly, his eyes widening at the sight of his lord's furrowed brow.
"Assemble a squadron," Deole barked, his voice a thunderclap in the quiet room. "We march tomorrow." Inform Captain lanos of our destination and the gravity of the situation. The Hollow's influence must be purged from Helgarde."
The aide nodded, his eyes flickering with a mix of fear and determination. "At once, my lord." He turned on his heel and disappeared through the heavy wooden door, leaving Deole alone with his thoughts.
Mordecai, the perceptive woman who had questioned Aldwyn, strode into the room. She was both hauntingly beautiful and eerily calm. Her long, raven-black hair clung to her pale skin, a stark contrast to her dark eyes. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline framed her full, red lips. Her lean body was dressed in an elegant coat.
"You've done well, Deole Mitchell," she began, her voice a silken purr. "Your instincts were correct. Aldwyn is a key player in this unfolding drama."