Part 1: Into the Sewer
Greg stood by the sewer grate in the outer kingdom's dim morning light, the air heavy with the faint stench of muck. Tomas leaned against the wall, eyeing the clean stone around the entrance. "Greg, did you sneak into the sewer yesterday?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You've already been in there?" Greg shot back, surprised.
"Yeah, scouted it a bit," Tomas said. "Saw how spotless the entrance was and figured you came by to test your cleaning skills."
Greg shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. "First time doing this. I didn't use much energy yesterday, so I tried going all out. When Lila and Mira get here, I'll fill you in so you know what's coming."
A few minutes later, Lila and Mira appeared, each pushing a rickety wooden cart. Mira's was empty, while Lila's overflowed with cheap oil lamps, their glass smudged but functional. Both wore plain, long-sleeved tunics and trousers that covered every inch of skin, looking like they'd raided a peasant's laundry line. Mira struck a pose, hands on hips. "Tell me the truth, Greg. What do we look like?"
"Ridiculous," Greg said, deadpan, holding back a laugh.
"Hah! Hear that, Lila? Our priest has no heart," Mira teased, elbowing Lila.
Lila rolled her eyes but smiled. "Yes, yes, enough. Gather up. After checking the sewer yesterday, I got two things: light and storage. It gets pitch-black deeper in, so I bought the cheapest oil lamps around. And for the rubbish, most of it is wet and gross. A bag would leak, soaking whoever's carrying it. So, carts." She patted the creaking wood proudly.
"Smart," Greg said. "I tested my endurance yesterday. After a big cast, I'll need a half-hour to an hour to recover. While I'm recharging, you guys can clear the trash."
Lila frowned, crossing her arms. "Didn't I tell you to rest?"
"No point," Greg replied, shrugging. "Yesterday's stamina doesn't carry over. Ready to dive in?"
"Ugh, let's go!" Mira groaned. "So I can ditch this ridiculous outfit ASAP."
Tomas swapped with Mira, pushing the empty cart, while Lila handled the lamp cart. They stepped into the sewer, the damp air hitting them like a wet sock. Mira lit an oil lamp, its weak flame flickering as she placed it near the entrance. She handed one to Greg and kept one for herself, its glow casting long shadows on the slimy walls. The party moved deeper, reaching the spot Greg had cleaned yesterday.
"Whoa," Mira said, her eyes wide. "This place looks brand new. No way this is the same sewer."
Lila nodded. "In that case, Mira, Tomas, start clearing the rubbish here. I'll stick with Greg to the next section so he can clean more for us to work on."
"Okay!" Mira took two tongs out from her bag and passed one to Tomas.
"Here you go, at least we don't have to physically touch these things." Mira said
"Thanks." Tomas took the tong from Mira.
"Didn't think there's tongs in this world." Greg thought as he continued to walk forward to clean a new section of the sewer.
Greg stepped forward, "here we go again." He muttered, "Radiant Pulse," and a ball of light sparked before him, swelling to the size of a watermelon. It pulsed, glowing brighter, then vibrated, unleashing a wave of white energy. Lila gasped, watching in real-time as the grime, slime, and filth melted away. The stone gleamed, the air cleared, and the stench faded to a bearable hum. Like a magic vacuum cleaner, Greg thought, smirking.
Lila stood speechless, her lamp trembling in her hand. "Greg… that's incredible. It's like the sewer was never dirty."
Part 2: Whispers in the Dark
Greg wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, the glow of Radiant Pulse still fading from the sewer's now-pristine walls. Lila stood beside him, her oil lamp casting wobbly shadows. "Greg?" she said, her voice soft.
"Ah, yeah?" Greg replied.
"I don't think anyone else should know about this," Lila whispered, glancing around the empty tunnel.
"About what? That priests are better at cleaning sewers than healing people?" Greg grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
Lila laughed, her voice echoing faintly. "Haha, as long as that doesn't come true. Great job, though. Let's head back to Mira and Tomas."
They trudged back to the cleaned section, where Mira and Tomas were piling wet rubbish into the cart. Lila waved Greg to a rickety cart stacked with oil lamps. "Rest here while we clear this junk," she said. Greg nodded, plopping onto the cart's edge. Five minutes later, the cart was half-full, heavy with slimy debris. Tomas groaned, pushing it. "This thing's getting too heavy. Let's haul it to the entrance and dump it while Greg rests."
Lila agreed. "Good call. Greg, stay put. We'll be quick."
As the trio disappeared toward the entrance, Greg leaned back, the sewer's cool air a relief after the outer kingdom's morning heat. Not bad for a dungeon crawl. No monsters, just muck. But the quiet didn't last. A faint sound, like a woman sobbing drifted from deeper in the tunnel. The hairs on Greg's neck stood up, his heart lurching. Not again. Those market apparitions were creepy enough, but this? Hearing ghosts is way worse than seeing them.
"Okay, screw this," he muttered, hopping off the cart and speed-walking to the entrance, carrying the oil lamp. He mumbled random song lyrics, some half-remembered pop tune from his old life, to drown out the crying. "Don't look back, don't think about it. Just keep moving." Greg thought to himself.
At the entrance, Lila, Mira, and Tomas were unloading the cart. Lila frowned as Greg stumbled out, pale as a ghost himself. "I told you to rest! Why do you look like you saw a demon?"
"Nothing much," Greg said, forcing a shrug. "Just heard a lady crying down there. Freaky as hell."
"Nooo, don't say that!" Mira wailed, clutching her lamp. "Now I'm scared to go back in!"
Tomas raised an eyebrow. "Was it a living person or one of those… dead things you see?"
"No idea," Greg admitted. "Didn't stick around to check."
Mira burst out laughing. "Haha, our priest is scared of ghosts!"
Greg shot her a look. "Oh yeah? Keep laughing, and I'll make them follow you."
"No! Please!" Mira yelped, hands up. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't curse me with ghosts!"
After a quick break, the party ventured back into the sewer, the lamp's glow barely pushing back the dark. Greg's heart pounded, but the crying had stopped. "Thank the gods, perhaps the goddess from the temple of light." He whispered to himself. He and Lila moved to a new section, where he cast Radiant Pulse again. The familiar watermelon-sized orb sparked, pulsed, and unleashed a wave of light, washing away filth and stench. Lila shook her head, amazed, as the stone gleamed like new.
The team fell into a rhythm. Mira and Tomas hauling rubbish, Greg and Lila cleaning ahead, tossing jokes to keep things light. "Nice one, Cleaner Priest!" Mira called, dodging a dripping chunk of sludge.
Tomas chuckled, wiping his brow. "As expected, one district's too big to finish in a day."
"No rush," Lila said. "This is safer than patrolling outside the kingdom, getting jumped by monsters or worse, our own kind."
"True," Greg added, grinning. "One district's worth ten or twenty times the gold of those lousy fetch quests."
But as they laughed, Greg's mind drifted to the sobbing sound. "Hope it's nothing to worry about." Thought Greg.
Part 3: The Smell of Secrets
The Dawnbreakers kept at it, Greg casting Radiant Pulse to scour the sewer's filth while Mira and Tomas hauled wet rubbish to the cart. Lila stayed close, her oil lamp flickering as the sun dipped low outside, its light barely reaching the tunnel's mouth. Greg glanced at the half-full cart, glad they'd been pushing it out each time it got heavy. Smart move. Keeps them moving and also getting fresh air and to see how much time has passed. He'd considered sneaking in early to clean more of the district, but the memory of that woman's sobbing, those eerie, unseen cries killed the idea fast. Nope, not messing with ghosts alone.
As dusk settled, the party called it a day. They stashed the carts in a smelly, uncleaned section of the sewer, figuring no one would wander in to steal them. Stepping into the outer kingdom's chilly air, Mira groaned, sniffing her sleeve. "Ugh, this stench is glued to my clothes. Lila, these cheap outfits were a great call, but how long before they're ruined?"
Lila smirked, brushing dirt off her own tunic. "Long enough, if we're careful."
"Hmm, gather round," Greg said, an idea sparking. "I might be able to fix that."
The team huddled close, Mira raising an eyebrow. Greg whispered, "Purify," casting one for each of them, focusing on their clothes rather than the air. A soft glow spread, and the sewer's stink vanished, leaving their outfits crisp and clean. No need for Radiant Pulse. Too flashy out here.
Mira's eyes lit up. "I love you, Greg! Next time my laundry's piling up, you're invited!" she teased, grinning wide.
Lila whacked Mira's head lightly. "Stop joking around, you goof."
"Heh, careful, Greg," Mira said, dodging another swat. "Lila's room is a mess ow, ow, ow! I surrender!" She laughed as Lila grabbed her arm, pretending to wrestle her into submission.
Tomas chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm heading out, guys. See you tomorrow." He started to walk off, but Lila grabbed his sleeve, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Hold up. We can't let anyone know Greg's holy powers can clean like this," she said, glancing at each of them. "I don't want greedy parties forcing their priests or priestesses to play janitor."
Mira smirked. "Heh, ours is different. Greg's already greedy for gold."
"Hey!" Greg protested, gesturing at his plain white robe. "I need money to survive. This robe's all I've got. No closet full of fancy tunics here."
"My bad!" Mira said, her cheeky grin unapologetic. "Cheer up, Greg. That's life!"
Lila sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Alright, let's call it. Meet here tomorrow, same time." The party split, and Greg headed to the Temple of Light. Time to wash up and grab some food. The temple of light usually only serves food for lunch thus tonight he needs to go to the tavern.
At a nearby tavern, the smell of roasted meat and ale filled the air. Greg settled at a corner table, ordering a cheap stew to save his coins. As he sipped, two customers nearby Carl and Jack caught his ear, their voices loud over the chatter.
"Carl, have you heard about Whispering Hollow Cemetery?" Jack said, leaning in.
"What, more superstition?" Carl replied, rolling his eyes.
"No, listen! My neighbor went to visit her dad's grave. Said all of the bodies were dug up like the dead just got up and walked! She looked for the priest in charge, but all she found was a pool of blood and his white robe, soaked red."
Greg froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. That's… not good. His mind flashed to the zombies that had attacked the kingdom just recently.
"Chill, man, you're talking too fast," Carl said. "Did she tell the guards?"
"Uh, didn't ask," Jack admitted. "Ran straight here to tell you."
"Ridiculous," Carl muttered, shaking his head. "You're hopeless."
Part 4: Echoes of a Nightmare
Greg sat frozen at the tavern table, the words of Carl and Jack dug-up graves, a blood-soaked robe echoing in his head. His stew suddenly tasted like ash, his appetite gone. Whispering Hollow Cemetery? He forced down the last bites and shuffled back to his cramped room at the Temple of Light, the outer kingdom's cold streets nipping at his plain white robe. Just need to sleep this off.
But sleep brought no relief. In his nightmare, a woman's sobbing grew louder, chasing him through a black void. His legs burned as he ran, heart hammering, until a figure loomed, her hair draped over her face like a shroud. "HELP ME!" she screamed, lunging at him.
"Arghh!" Greg bolted awake, gasping. The stone walls of his room greeted him, the rune-lit candle flickering softly. Just a dream. Thank the game gods. He splashed icy water on his face from a basin, noticing the faint dawn light seeping through the window. Way too early.
Outside, priests and priestesses glided toward the prayer hall, their robes glowing faintly in the gloom. Greg spotted Elara from a distance, her golden hair and stern posture. How strong is she? he wondered, the tavern's grim tale replaying. "I can handle demons and trolls, but what about a killer or monster? I could only run and spam Heal." The 250 gold from the assassin's letter flashed in his mind. He could hire a bodyguard… if it's not cursed.
After a couple of minutes later, Greg found himself standing in front of the sewer.
Despite being scared, Greg feels that being a priest is fated for him to solve all of the supernaturals in this world. On the other hand he hopes to communicate with the goddess of the temple of light, on the reason why he had transmigrated to this world.
"What was the goddess' name again?" Greg thought to himself.
At the sewer entrance, the morning air was sharp, the stench faint. Greg stepped inside, casting Light Ward to summon glowing orbs that lit the damp tunnel. He reached the carts, still parked in the smelly section from yesterday, and paused, closing his eyes to listen. No sobbing. Good. The nightmare lingered, but the silence felt like a win. "Guess it was just my brain screwing with me," he muttered.
With no one around, Greg didn't need to fake being tired. Max mana. "Ten Radiant Pulses before I'm out." He moved deeper, casting the spell section by section. Each time, a watermelon-sized orb sparked, pulsed, and unleashed a wave of light, scrubbing away grime until the stone gleamed. By his tenth cast, his mana was drained, but the district was nearly clean. Greg looks around the area.
"Seems that I am able to finish cleaning up this district by the end of today. And just nice, it should be the time where the rest of the party will arrive.
He turned to head back, but a sharp clank like metal hitting stone rang from deeper in the sewer. Greg froze, checking his mana, it was just enough for two Heal spells. "Great. Low on juice and something's out there." The nightmare's scream echoed in his head, his pulse racing. Can't ignore it. He crept forward, the Light Ward's glow showing only shadows and dripping water. Ghost? Or just a busted pipe? The sewer's chill felt heavier, like it was waiting for him to step into something bad.
Part 5: The Cage of Secrets
As he rounded a corner, his jaw dropped at a scene straight out of a horror flick. A rusted cage loomed in the shadows, stuffed with skeletons, their bones tangled in heaps. On the filthy, wet ground outside it, a naked woman lay curled up, shivering, her ribs stark against her skin. She's alive… barely. Starvation had hollowed her cheeks, but her faint breaths gave Greg hope.
Without hesitating, he whispered, "Heal," sending a soft glow over her. Her trembling eased slightly, but her eyes stayed shut. One spell down, one left. He grabbed the cage's bars, yanking and pushing, but they didn't budge. "No weapon, no tools damn it." His empty hands clenched in frustration. "I'm not built for this hero crap."
"Don't give up," he said to the woman, his voice firm despite his nerves. "I'll be back."
Greg sprinted toward the sewer entrance, his lungs burning. The Dawnbreakers were lounging outside, chatting, clearly waiting for him. Their eyes widened as he stumbled out, panting. Lila's frown deepened, her mouth opening to scold him, but she froze, seeing his pale face and urgent stride.
"Apologies, everyone, quick come with me!" Greg gasped, waving them forward. "There's a woman trapped down there. Lila, Mira, run ahead. You'll hit a dead end with a big cage. She's in bad shape."
Lila nodded, swallowing her lecture. "Mira, let's move." She turned to Tomas. "Stay with Greg. Protect him if anything jumps us."
Mira and Lila bolted into the sewer, their cheap tunics flapping. Greg tried to keep up but slowed, exhausted from his earlier dashing out from the sewer. Tomas matched his pace, glancing over. "What'd you find down there?"
"You remember that crying I heard yesterday?" Greg said, catching his breath. "Yeah, it's real. A woman starving, locked near a cage of skeletons."
Tomas's eyes narrowed. "So, someone's down there who needs help?"
"Unfortunately, yeah," Greg said. "I got curious and checked the deeper end of the sewer. Good thing, she too might've died if we waited."
Tomas frowned, gripping his sword. "So much for a safe quest, huh? This is a crime scene. Whoever did this won't be happy that we have found her."
Five minutes later, Greg and Tomas reached the dead end. Lila was cradling the woman, now wrapped in Lila's spare cloak, while Mira rummaged inside the cage, kicking at bones for clues. Lila's face was grim as she looked up. "We're stopping for today. This is bigger than cleaning. We need to report this to the Adventurer's Guild."
She pointed to a symbol etched on the cage, a jagged, glowing rune pulsing faintly. "That's Obsidian Cabal. Rogue mages, usually its dungeon-linked, spreading taint to undermine the Temple. They worship a 'Dark Sovereign,' or so the rumors say. They operate from the Whispering Mountains, stirring up monsters perhaps similarly like that troll we fought."
Greg's stomach twisted, the "Dark Sovereign" whispers from the tavern, the cemetery's dug-up graves flashing in his mind. The Obsidian Cabal huh? And that rune… it's like the one in the Malediction Codex. Tomas shivered, his face pale. "Greg, can I crash at the Temple with you? I'm not sleeping alone after this."
Greg forced a grin, hiding his own nerves. "Sure, but my bed's tiny. Don't hog the blanket."
"Better than being dead," Tomas muttered, clutching his staff tighter. "Gotta get a better weapon now."
Lila sighed, adjusting the woman in her arms. "Let's move. Guild first, then the Temple. This woman needs care, and that rune needs reporting."
As they headed out, Greg glanced back at the cage, its rune still glowing faintly. This isn't just a job anymore.