"This rag doll…"
Helag picked it up and gently brushed off the thick layer of dust.
It was just an ordinary rag doll, not a cursed one, with no peculiar features.
Looking at the doll, Helag reflected on everything he had experienced. He felt that the blacksmith's family and the town had likely faced some misfortune, leaving them restless even in death.
He sighed and placed the doll back where he found it.
In the daylight, Helag noticed that the room's decor and colors indicated it was a little girl's room.
He looked around, finding everything similar to the night before, but much more deteriorated.
For instance, the wardrobe door fell off when he opened it, and completely rotted.
Inside the wardrobe were some clothes, all for a little girl.
Leaving the room, Helag carefully descended the decayed stairs to the attic.
The attic was even more chaotic, overgrown with weeds, and the ceiling had several holes.
Helag glanced at the windowsill, where there was no severed head.
The window glass was shattered, and the frame was half-rotted, hanging precariously.
After exploring the blacksmith's house, Helag left, propping the fallen door frame back in place before he did.
He had hoped to find the blacksmith's family's bodies, even just bones, to bury them properly.
From what he saw the night before, the blacksmith's family had likely become restless spirits, unable to find peace.
Helag wanted to see if he could find their remains and give them a proper burial.
Without the blacksmith's help, he might have died. The information the blacksmith provided was crucial for dealing with various situations.
Unfortunately, he couldn't find any remains.
Helag then went to another location.
He reached the house with the Demon Flower garden and found the garden still there, filled with various flowers, but no Demon Flowers.
The house beside the garden was now a pile of rubble, with no recognizable structure left.
Helag continued exploring the town, hoping to find Robert, who had gone missing.
He checked every house but found nothing, no bodies or bones.
"There are fewer houses than last night."
After exploring, Helag noticed that the number of houses was significantly less.
He had observed that there were more houses at night than when he first arrived in Creek Valley Town.
"Could it really be two different spaces?" Helag felt increasingly confident in his theory.
Verifying it would be simple—just return at night.
But Helag had no intention of returning, at least not until he was strong enough to handle the spider swarm.
He continued down the mountain path, noticing that the footsteps following him had disappeared.
"When did they stop…"
Helag realized he hadn't noticed when the footsteps ceased. They seemed to have stopped early on.
Recalling, he realized he hadn't heard them since entering the cave.
At the time, he was focused on the cave paintings and the slate, not noticing the absence of footsteps.
When he exited the cave at dawn, the footsteps were still gone.
Helag pondered, "What were those footsteps?"
He was puzzled. The footsteps had followed him for a long time but hadn't posed any danger. He couldn't understand what they were or their purpose.
Though the footsteps hadn't caused him harm, Helag felt they were unresolved.
He glanced at the tavern, now mostly collapsed, with tables and the bar visible from outside.
After one last look at the tavern, Helag continued down the mountain.
Looking back, Creek Valley Town remained a ruin, and the path down was overgrown with weeds. Soon, the path would blend with the mountain, erasing any trace of it.
The narrow mountain pass had also changed. Helag remembered it clearly from his arrival.
The path had been well-maintained, showing signs of regular upkeep.
Now, it was almost a jungle.
Tall shrubs filled the pass, obscuring the path.
Helag drew his sword, cutting through the undergrowth as he walked.
By the time he exited the pass, he was wet from dew and water accumulated on broad-leafed shrubs.
"Hmm?"
Upon exiting, Helag saw a familiar face.
Robert was sleeping under a tree, leaning against it.
A squirrel on a branch above stared at Helag with wide eyes.
As Helag approached, the squirrel chattered in alarm and scurried away.
Robert, awakened by the noise, groggily opened his eyes and saw Helag.
"Sir…"
Helag looked at him and asked, "Why are you sleeping here?"
Robert, confused, scratched his head. "I don't know. I remember having a butterbeer with you and the blacksmith in the tavern, then nothing."
"Anything else you remember?" Helag asked.
Robert shook his head. "No, my last memory is the tavern. Did I get drunk on one beer? Or was something added to it…"
Listening to Robert, Helag thought, "Robert's last memory is in the tavern. The Robert we encountered later, and the dismembered Robert, might not have been him."
He suddenly turned to Robert, thinking, "Or maybe this isn't the real Robert…"
Robert, feeling Helag's intense gaze, swallowed nervously. "Sir, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. Let's get going. Time to head back," Helag said, glancing at the horses tied to a tree, calmly grazing.
Helag mounted his horse, and Robert quickly followed, getting on his own horse.
Helag glanced back at the narrow mountain pass, still overgrown with dense shrubs.
He turned to Robert and said, "Look over there."
Robert followed his gaze and exclaimed, "What happened here? It wasn't like this when we came."
He looked bewildered, unable to comprehend how things had changed so drastically overnight.
"So, it's not just me," Helag thought. He had wondered if only he saw the changes, but it was clear now that the place had indeed transformed.
"Let's go."
Helag tugged on the reins and gently kicked his horse's side, prompting it to start galloping down the road.
He still didn't fully understand what had happened in Creek Valley Town, only that it held secrets beyond his current capabilities to explore.
There were many mysteries left unsolved, and he would need to return with greater strength to uncover them.
This journey had been fraught with danger, and his escape was partly due to luck.
If he hadn't met the blacksmith in the tavern and shared a butterbeer with him, he might have died at the hands of the little girl.
High risk brought high rewards, though. He had gained a lot.
The high-grade potion ingredients he had collected could fetch a good price when sold to Larry back in Moonlight Woodland.
Most importantly, he had acquired the ancient magic slate, a secret he would share with no one, not even his mentor Larry.
The slate contained a Level 1 spell, which he wasn't yet qualified to read.
He needed to advance to a third-level wizard apprentice and enhance his mental strength to near-formal wizard levels before he could safely study the slate's contents.
Helag wasn't in a hurry. Such things couldn't be rushed and required steady progress.
He also needed to learn more about ancient magic, as his current knowledge was limited.
The complexity of a Level 1 spell model was exponentially greater than that of a 0-level spell.
Helag had much to learn, and Deep Blue held a wealth of knowledge he hadn't yet had time to study.
During this journey, he planned to digest the information stored in Deep Blue, most of which came from the Moonlight Woodland library.
Robert rode behind him, looking worried.
He didn't understand what had happened and was afraid to ask Helag.
Seeing Helag's urgency to leave, Robert knew something serious was afoot.
Helag was a mysterious figure, and any place that made him uneasy was terrifying to Robert.
More importantly, Robert couldn't remember what had happened to him.
"Sir, my neck and limbs hurt," Robert said.
He hadn't noticed the pain upon waking, but now that he was riding, he felt it acutely, as if he had been slashed.
He touched his neck but found no wounds.
"Neck pain?" Helag thought of the dismembered Robert he had seen the night before.
He was puzzled.
"Robert feels pain in his neck and limbs. Was he really dismembered? But how is he alive now…"
Helag kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to alarm Robert.
Telling him wouldn't solve anything and would only increase his fear.
They rode quickly, eager to distance themselves from Creek Valley Town.
Helag observed the surroundings on the way back, noting that everything seemed unchanged once they left the town.
***
Two days later, Stormwind City came into view.
Both men sighed in relief upon returning, feeling safer among the bustling streets.
The sounds of street vendors, arguments, and a child's cries being scolded by its mother were all comforting.
Helag headed straight for the Adventurers' Guild upon arriving in Stormwind City.
The guild hall was as busy as ever, filled with people.
"Where's Miro?" Helag asked a guild staff member.
The young man frowned at being grabbed, ready to snap, but then he saw Robert following Helag like a subordinate.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, the man's expression quickly changed, and he smiled obsequiously. "Sir, the vice president is on the second floor. Shall I inform him?"
"No need, I'll find him myself," Helag said, releasing the man and heading upstairs.
Robert followed closely, glancing at the staff member with a smile but saying nothing.
Helag knocked on Miro's door and entered without waiting for a response.
"Mr. Helag? You're back," Miro said, sitting on the sofa with a book and a steaming cup of coffee.
Helag sat across from him and asked, "Are you sure you showed me all the files on Creek Valley Town?"
The people in Creek Valley Town were clearly all dead, and turned into restless spirits.
Helag couldn't believe he was the only one to have visited there over the years. Ordinary people entering would surely die.
The Adventurers' Guild, being such a large organization, couldn't be unaware of the town's anomalies, leading Helag to suspect Miro had withheld information.
Miro explained, "I did show you all the files. As I said, it's just an abandoned town with nothing of interest."
"What?" Helag's eyes widened, feeling like Miro was toying with him.
In just two days, Miro's story had changed completely, yet he spoke as if stating facts.
Miro hesitated. "Um… Mr. Helag, did something happen?"
He glanced at Robert, who was also looking at him with suspicion, sensing something was amiss.
Helag took a deep breath to calm himself. "Two days ago, you said it was just a normal town. You didn't mention it had been abandoned for decades."
Miro shook his head. "Impossible. Everyone knows Creek Valley Town was raided by bandits years ago. Everyone was killed, and the town was burned."
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