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?"
Melly spoke first, her usual brightness dimmed by the oppressive atmosphere. "Could they... still be inside? Unaware?"
Daniel shook his head decisively, his analytical mind cutting through the possibility. "Improbable. A Rank 3's senses are too sharp. They would have detected our approach long before we saw this opening."
"Which means," Sophia added, her voice sharp with logic, "they likely sensed us and withdrew. Evasion would be prudent, especially against a group of unknown strength."
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?"
Jacobs let out a short bark of laughter, though it did little to ease the tension. "Merely wanted to hear your own deductions. Don't make me out to be smarter than I am." Pride flickered in his 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 nodded to the remaining three. "Henry, Sophia, Daniel - with me."
They plunged into the cavern's maw. The oppressive darkness felt immediate, suffocating. Dampness clung to the air, thick with the charnel stench of rot and decay that intensified with every step, catching sickeningly in the back of their throats. The uneven earth underfoot was slick, coated in viscous, black trails - dried blood reflecting the dim light filtering from the entrance in disturbing patterns.
Deeper within, the source of the stench became horrifyingly clear. A gruesome tableau unfolded, a scene of profound sacrilege.
Crude wooden stakes, like butcher's racks, 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 had been flayed away in ragged strips, revealing dark red muscle tissue that still wept fluid, mingling with the black gore coating 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, his face a grim mask, forced himself to observe, his sharp eyes scanning the horrific vista, searching 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. Significantly larger than its lesser kin, its muscles bulged with unnatural strength beneath a patchwork hide of tough, scabrous scales. Its eyes burned with a coal-red malevolence, radiating an ancient, terrifying hunger. Confronting an Alghoul was a deadly gamble even for seasoned Rank 2 warriors.
"Don't let them box us in!" Jacobs commanded, his voice cutting 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, thick with the stench of death and the suffocating tension before battle.
The Ghouls lunged, jaws gaping, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. Henry met the first charge, his blade a silver arc, severing an outstretched clawed arm. Black blood splattered, but the creature barely flinched, driven by insatiable hunger. Others pressed the attack.
Daniel stepped back, chanting words of power. A blazing sphere of fire erupted from his palm, engulfing several Ghouls in a shrieking inferno. Lumos roared, bringing his massive warhammer down in a crushing blow that shook the earth, sending three nearby Ghouls sprawling. He pivoted, bringing the hammer down again, obliterating the skull of the nearest stunned creature.
From the perimeter, Melly's fiery arrows and Torsan's steel-tipped shafts rained down, sowing confusion among the pack, drawing their attention, creating openings.
Through it all, the Alghoul remained still, observing the maelstrom with cold, calculating eyes. It waited, a patient predator, its power a palpable 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. A clawed hand, like a jagged thunderbolt, descended upon Daniel.
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 thick 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 remained thick. A foul, black miasma began to emanate from the Alghoul's corpse, a tangible residue of its dark power. Jacobs grimly severed the creature's head, wiping black blood from his blade.
"We leave. Now," he ordered, his gaze sharp. "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 grim 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. "Your thoughts on the Ghouls?"
"A diversion," Henry replied immediately, the horror of the cave still fresh in his mind. "The perpetrator lured them here, likely to gauge our strength, test our capabilities while they made their escape."
"Good," Jacobs nodded curtly, then turned to Sophia. "The cave?"
"Dark ritual," Sophia stated, her voice cold and precise despite the tremor Henry could still sense beneath the surface. "Sacrifices to fuel power, likely preparing for ascension."
"My conclusion as well," Jacobs confirmed, his expression grim. "High probability: our target is a Rank 3 cultist actively attempting to ascend 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. Should I thank the Angels for their delayed blessing? The thought was grim, unsettling.
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.
Back within the familiar, noisy confines of the Dunlyre Tavern, however, the mood shifted. Jacobs raised a tankard of ale, a weary but genuine smile finally gracing his lips.
"That mission went sideways fast," he admitted, his gaze sweeping over his exhausted team. "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 crowns was a generous bonus for a D-rank mission, a welcome reward. In Aerion, one hundred crowns equaled a gold coin - a significant sum. Rank 1 soldiers earned perhaps thirty to fifty crowns 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.
"To the Angels, for watching over us," Jacobs toasted, his voice rough with emotion.
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."