Page 132

Sleeping Mermaid Tavern.

A wooden signboard adorned with a lifelike mermaid sculpture hung at the entrance.

It was a well-known establishment in Northwind Fortress, doubling as a secret meeting spot for pureblood serpentfolk spies. The proprietress had long been bought off with gold, willingly becoming a minion of Ember Nest.

At the moment, chaos reigned across the city.

With the city guards preoccupied by the Dragonkin invasion, the tavern had become an open gathering place for Ember Nest’s faction.

A four-person team pushed open the door, stepping into a bustling scene.

The tavern was filled with players.

"Hey, boss! Got any Blazing Red Lips?"

"I heard that stuff gives you the Frenzy buff."

"The drinks here are way more expensive than in Baator City!"

Mantou exclaimed, "So many people…"

Summer Night Autumn Rain muttered under her breath, "I thought we were the only ones to get this special quest."

Singo surveyed the room, immediately recognizing familiar faces.

Royal Authority’s Overlord, Steel Frenzy of the Mechanical Faith, Charlotte of Magic Coin, Alpha of Golden Age...

Professional players from all the major guilds were present. Almost everyone who had been drawn to the tavern for this quest had reached the closed-beta level cap—Level 4. In Erezaghe, this placed them among the elite adventurers, the backbone of any expedition, far from ordinary combatants.

Born Battle Maniac sneered at Royal Authority’s Overlord seated not far away, letting out a disdainful "Tch."

Singo lowered his voice, advising, "Come on, Battle Bro, no need to clash with Royal Authority in a team mission. Focus on the key NPCs."

"Look over there."

He gestured subtly.

In the center of the tavern, Alger and Medrolash sat at a wooden table with two glasses of red wine between them.

Despite past tensions, the two had come together to strategize against their common enemy—Duke Brad Lackman.

On the brink of confronting his nemesis, Alger looked both exhilarated and apprehensive.

After a moment of hesitation, he spoke, "I’ve lived here most of my life. I know a secret path into Lackman Castle. What we need to do is infiltrate."

"Then… kill him."

Medrolash nodded slightly, taking a sip of wine before replying, "A simple and crude plan. But you’re forgetting one thing: you’ve been away for years. Ember Nest is about to breach the city walls. That cunning old vampire won’t be unprepared."

Alger’s draconic face froze momentarily before he replied, "It’s our only option. If we let him complete his ascension, the consequences will be catastrophic."

Medrolash chuckled softly. "True enough. These Starnaughts are immortal, but you and I—we’ve long been dead. There’s no need to fear dying again."

Alger pointed to a map of Northwind Fortress spread across the table.

"Given the importance of the ascension ceremony, the main roads will undoubtedly be heavily guarded. We’ll take this route instead, through the Shadowed Path in Lackman’s rear garden."

"Very well."

Medrolash stood and declared loudly,

"Warriors, we are ready to move out."

"Stop the ascension, and the Lord shall reward you handsomely."

The twenty-odd elite players in the tavern turned their intense gazes toward him.

Medrolash had mastered the art of commanding players.

At the outskirts of Lackman Castle, in the Twilight Garden.

The lush forest encircled the castle, cutting it off from the outside world.

Towering trees with gnarled trunks bore scars like ancient wounds. Darkness spread through the dense undergrowth, blurring the distinction between day and night. Sinister branches swayed in the wind, whispering eerie secrets.

The twisted trees resembled ghastly specters with clawed hands.

Deep within the woods, chilling howls echoed, sending shivers down spines.

Alger studied the shadowy forest and the twisted branches lining the narrow path, his expression grim.

"This wasn’t like this before."

"What has Brad Lackman been doing these past years since I left?"

Medrolash smirked coldly. "Maybe he’s been raising a pack of loyal guard dogs to protect his lair."

"Looks like we’ll need to tread carefully."

"Let’s go."

Alger, Medrolash, and their team stepped into the dense forest without hesitation.

As they traversed the vine-covered path, Mantou heard rustling noises behind him, sending a chill up his spine.

"No way… is there really something creepy here?"

"Wait, there’s something behind me!"

Mantou felt a faint touch on the back of his neck and let out a yelp.

Cold sweat dripped down as he turned to look, only to find a twisted vine dangling from a branch.

Exhaling in relief, he turned to Singo. "This place is seriously cursed. We need to move fast and get out of here."

Singo, too serious to mock him, nodded grimly.

He had just noticed the underbrush ahead shift slightly, though he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination.

"Let’s keep moving."

Mantou pressed forward reluctantly, but when he glanced back again, the vine had shifted, resembling a claw reaching for him.

He gasped audibly.

The rustling around them grew louder and more frequent, as if something unseen writhed in the darkness.

Faint, broken voices filled the air, carrying dread and desperation.

"It’s alive…"

"Don’t… leave me behind…"

"Grab my hand, save me…"

But none of the voices came from anyone in their group!

Summer Night Autumn Rain’s face turned pale, sweat dripping from her chin. Her voice trembled, "Did you… did you hear that? Those voices."

Singo’s voice was low and steady. "I heard it too."

"They don’t sound like monster growls. More like the last words of victims before they died."

Mantou, now panicked, stammered, "Stop messing with me!"

"Take a good look around," Singo replied grimly.

Mantou surveyed his surroundings, only to find himself enveloped by a pulsating, oppressive darkness.

At the front of the group, Alger raised his Ever-Burning Greatsword, illuminating their surroundings. The light revealed the grotesque forms of their enemies.

Under the dappled shadows of the forest, twisted roots, branches, and vines gathered together, coalescing into numerous shambling, gnarled specters.

Their bodies were formed of withered wood, vines, and thorns, with half-digested human limbs entangled within their grotesque forms. Blood seeped from their thick roots.

Gritting his teeth, Alger shouted,

"Prepare for battle!"

"Damn it, this forest is alive!"

*************************************************