The rest of the camp was still fixated on the screaming guard. The healers worked frantically, but nothing they tried seemed to help. Now, every scream came with a spray of blood, and his skin had grown noticeably pale.
At first, he had been clutching his bitten foot, thrashing wildly in pain. But now, his movements have weakened. The fight was draining out of him. His body sagged, his skin beginning to wrinkle and shrink as though something inside him was being consumed.
It was a disturbing sight but no one was truly alarmed.
The mana in the forest was known to do strange things. Twisted things.
Most assumed Grant had simply been exposed to the corrupted mana of Hollowvail and was only now suffering the consequences.
Nearby, servants and hunters struggled to control the growing unrest. The hounds strained against their restraints, whining and snapping, while caged beasts slammed violently against iron bars, their panic spreading like wildfire.
The camp dissolved into chaos, noise, confusion, bodies frozen between fear and curiosity as they stared at the dying guard.
All of it irritated Brian.
His voice cut sharply through the disorder. "Someone shut the hounds up! Gag Grant or knock him out—do something!"
He turned abruptly, pointing at one of the women standing nearby, distracted by the scene. "You. Come serve me."
The servant moved immediately, trembling but obedient. She dropped to her knees, carrying out her task without hesitation.
But then she froze.
Her eyes lifted past Brian.
Something changed.
Her body went rigid and without thinking, she bit down.
"Ah! what the fuck is wrong with you?" Brian snapped, striking her hard across the face and shoving her away with so much force she slid in the dirt. He pulled up his pants and rushed towards her ready to beat her. How dare she hurt his precious manhood.
But the woman didn't react to his anger.
She didn't even seem to feel it.
Her hand slowly rose, a shaking finger pointing behind him. Her face had gone completely pale, her expression twisted in pure, unfiltered terror.
"Ahh—!"
She scrambled backward, away from Brian.
And then everything went silent.
The screaming guard.
The hounds.
Even the raging beasts in their cages.
All of it… stopped.
A cold shiver ran down every spine in the camp.
Brian's instincts screamed.
He turned.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
A thin, creeping fog clung to the ground, coiling between the trees like something alive—something watching. Beyond the edge of the camp, the forest dissolved into a suffocating haze of black and deep, bleeding red, as if the night itself had begun to rot.
And then it moved.
At first, it was only a distortion, a deeper shadow among shadows. But slowly, deliberately, it pulled itself free from the fog.
Its form was unnatural, shifting and unstable, like smoke trying to remember how to be solid. Black tendrils unraveled from its body, dissolving into the red mist before curling back into it again.
"What the hell is that thing?" Guild Master Brian screeched, shoving the guards in front of him as a shield. He had never seen or heard anything like that in the Hollowvail forest.
Then came its eyes.
Two piercing red lights snapped open within the void of its face too bright, too sharp, cutting through the haze like blades. They did not glow; they burned. Fixed. Unblinking. A predator's gaze that did not just see… it knew.
The air turned cold.
The sudden silence, so sharply contrasted with the chaos from moments before, felt unnatural and wrong in a way that made the skin crawl.
The shadow moved.
It took a step forward or perhaps the world shifted closer to it. The ground beneath it did not crunch or stir. It absorbed sound, swallowing every trace of life. Even the wind seemed to choke and die before reaching it.
No one reacted.
They were captivated frozen as it drifted closer to the cages.
The fire cracked suddenly, violently, as if recoiling. Shadows stretched and twisted unnaturally toward the creature, drawn to it… feeding it. The trees groaned softly, their branches creaking like bones under pressure.
Then came the whisper.
Not from the creature's mouth if it even had one but from everywhere at once. A low, rasping murmur that crawled into the ears and burrowed deep into the mind. It sounded almost like words but not in any language meant for the living.
The red eyes flickered.
Suddenly, the wind picked up.
A sharp click echoed through the stillness.
One of the cages swung open.
A collective gasp tore through the camp as everything snapped back to life. Hunters scrambled toward the gates, servants fled in panic, and guards rushed to Brian's side.
Sensing the danger too late, Brian stumbled backward—
—and fell face-first onto Grant's corpse.
The body was unrecognizable.
Dried. Withered. Drained of everything, like a husk left behind.
Like a raisin.
Shock tore a high-pitched scream from his throat.
"What the hell is happening?!" he shrieked, scrambling away. "Wasn't everything fine just a moment ago?!"
Now the monsters were loose.
Cages burst open one after another. Beasts lunged into the camp, tearing into anything they could reach. Screams filled the air. Mana flared wildly as guards fought back, elements colliding in desperate defense.
Brian's mind raced.
What is that thing? How did it get past the barriers?
The creature hadn't moved.
It stood near the cages.
Watching.
Waiting.
A low, eerie laughter echoed into the night—distorted, wrong.
Then it spoke.
"Guild Master Brian… today, you die."
Terror shot through him. His breathing turned ragged as chaos erupted around him—people screaming, beasts roaring, mana crashing in violent bursts.
"Protect me!" Brian shouted, shoving forward the guards with the highest-ranking systems. "You useless pieces of shit—do your job!"
In his panic, he even pushed a servant woman ahead of him.
"Your lives are worthless anyway!"
Brian was a man of means. A guild master by title but not by strength. His power came from wealth, from family influence, from control.
He always got his way.
Always.
Until now.
Because at this moment, none of that mattered.
Not when a shadow made of black mist and red horror was tearing through his camp—killing everyone he had ever commanded.
And here… money meant nothing.
Brian watched in rising panic as his guards failed him. Their attacks passed uselessly through the mist, their formations breaking under the combined assault of beasts and something far worse.
Then the black-red haze turned toward him and it surged.
Brian reacted on instinct, forcing mana through his body. Earth answered his call, rising violently from the ground. A thick slab shot upward in front of him, forming a crude shield.
For a brief moment, it worked. The mist struck the barrier, its advance slowed.
But only slightly because it was never solid to begin with.
How could a slab of earth stop something that moved like air?
Brian didn't think. He wasn't used to fighting—not truly. Power, for him, had always come from status, from others.
Desperation took over.
The slab collapsed inward, reshaping into a full dome around him, sealing him off completely. Thick earth encased him on all sides, cutting him off from the chaos outside.
An airtight refuge, Safe.
Or so he thought.
Inside the darkness, his breathing was too loud. His heart hammered against his ribs as he leaned against the earthen wall, trying to steady himself.
He couldn't see it. Couldn't hear it.
And so, slowly… he began to calm. What Brian didn't realize—
Was that in his panic, he had sealed the mist inside with him.
It lingered in the air, thin and patient. Invisible. Waiting.
Each breath he took drew it deeper into his lungs.
One breath. Then another. Then—
He coughed. A wet, choking sound.
Blood splattered against the inside of the dome.
His eyes widened in confusion, then terror. His body weakened instantly, strength draining as if something inside him was being consumed from the inside out. His mana flickered wildly, unstable.
"No… no—!"
He tried to reinforce the dome, to force more mana into it but his control was slipping. The structure trembled, cracks forming along its surface.
Guild master Brian let out another cough and more blood came out. His knees buckled.
The dome began to crumble And when it finally collapsed The shadowy mist was right there red eyes glowing.
He didn't get a chance to retreat.