The air was tense as Seraphina's shout cut through the eerie silence.

"EVELORI!! YOU WITCH!!"

Lyra gripped her bow tighter, her voice trembling with disbelief.

"That's her?! Right?! Evelori?!"

Before anyone could react further, Seraphina hurled a vial directly at Evelori. 

The glass shattered against the witch's skeletal form, splashing her with a thick, shimmering liquid. 

The moment it made contact, Evelori's body convulsed violently, emitting a blood-curdling scream that sent shivers down the spines of Andhur, Qarek, Kazaks, Seraphina, and Lyra.

"AUUEUUUOGH"

The vile scream seemed to pierce the very air, vibrating with an unnatural frequency that made the ground itself tremble. 

The witch staggered back, her fingers contorting as the liquid seared her decaying flesh.

Andhur, still stunned by the scream, stammered.

"W-What was that stuff?!"

Seraphina turned her head slightly, explaining quickly, her eyes fixed on the writhing Evelori. 

"It's a necromancer's bane. A potion made from a blend of ghost orchid sap, wraith's breath extract, and ground dragonbone ash. It's specifically designed to disrupt necromantic energies and corrupt flesh."

Qarek, pulling at his stuck war axe, growled.

"Damn witch. Looks like it's hurting her!"

Lyra notched an arrow to her bowstring, her expression sharp. 

"Hey, stay sharp. This is a necromancer!"

Suddenly—

Evelori's movements ceased. 

She slowly lifted her head, her neck elongating grotesquely until her face was right in front of Seraphina, as if teleporting in an instant. 

The witch opened her mouth wide, exhaling a cloud of green, toxic mist directly towards Seraphina.

But Kazaks and Andhur were faster. 

They lunged forward, crossing their weapons in front of Seraphina, dispersing the mist before it could touch her. 

The action was brave but costly. 

The necrotic mist curled around them, seeping into their noses and mouths. 

Their bodies tensed, then collapsed to the ground, unconscious, breathing shallowly.

Qarek shouted in alarm.

"Kazaks! Andhur!"

Evelori's head twisted towards Qarek, a sinister grin stretching across her pale, cosmetic-smeared face. 

With a swift motion, she lunged at him. 

Qarek swung his war axe, aiming for her neck, but as before, it lodged into her flesh without cutting through. 

The witch's neck twisted, holding the axe in place as if it were part of her.

 Qarek yelled, trying to wrench the axe free.

"Dammit! Why won't you die?!" 

Seraphina, acting quickly, reached for another vial — the one she had previously mentioned to Zach. 

She shouted as she prepared to throw it.

"This is a protection elixir, meant to shield us from dark magic. It's made from a blend of nightshade, moonstone dust, and enchanted rosemary!" 

But Evelori, with lightning speed, slapped the vial out of Seraphina's hand. 

It shattered against a rock, the glowing liquid spilling uselessly onto the ground.

Lyra took her chance, drawing a silver-tipped arrow. 

She muttered, releasing the arrow. 

"These arrows are forged from ironwood and silver, dipped in holy water and powdered sunlight stone. Let's see how you like this!" 

It whistled through the air—

But Evelori moved unnaturally fast—

Dodging the shot effortlessly.

Lyra followed up with a flurry of throwing knives, each one designed with the same enchanted materials. 

Evelori twisted and contorted her body in ways that defied logic, dodging every strike with ease.

Then, something horrifying happened. 

Evelori's body convulsed violently, her mouth, nose, and ears spewing forth a torrent of small, fleshy objects. 

As they landed, the group realized with growing horror what they were — cosmetic eyes, artificially made from human flesh, rolling and twitching on the ground.

The eyes started crawling towards Seraphina, Lyra, and Qarek, their tiny limbs like malformed spiders. 

A chorus of eerie whispers filled the air.

"Save... save... us... save... us..."

Qarek, struggling to pull his axe free, looked at the grotesque eyes, his face pale with fear. 

"Those eyes... they were villagers once. This witch... she's turned them into this!"

Seraphina's expression darkened with fury. 

She shouted, pulling out a handful of vials from her side bag. 

"YOU MONSTER!" 

She prepared to throw the deadliest concoctions she had — those that could kill even the strongest undead.

But before she could release them, one of the crawling eyes leapt onto her forehead, its tiny limbs digging into her skin. It whispered directly into her mind/

"Miss Seraphina... save us... save..."

Seraphina froze, her hand trembling. 

The whisper was filled with the pain and desperation of a tortured soul. 

Her eyes widened as she realized that these eyes were remnants of the villagers Evelori had experimented on, their souls trapped in this grotesque form.

Seraphina muttered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"No... no... this can't be..." 

Evelori let out a cackling laugh, her skeletal body shuddering with the sound. 

"Did you think you could face me, shaman? This is my work. This is my art."

Qarek, despite his fear, gritted his teeth and pulled at his axe with all his might, finally wrenching it free. 

He raised it high, ready to strike down Evelori. 

"You'll pay for what you've done!"

But Evelori's body rippled grotesquely. 

Her face began to shift, her eyes bleeding, nose bleeding, ears bleeding — every orifice oozing thick, dark blood. 

Holes started to open across her body, growing larger and more horrific by the second, revealing glimpses of writhing, trapped souls inside her flesh.

Kazaks, barely conscious from the necrotic mist, whispered.

"W-What... what is she...?"

With a final, shrieking laugh, Evelori twisted her spine, breaking her own back and bending forward unnaturally until her hands touched the ground. 

Her head hung upside down, staring directly at Qarek, Kazaks, and the tearful Seraphina.

"You want to save them, shaman? You want to end their suffering? Then try. Try to kill me!" 

Evelori screeched, her voice echoing with a thousand souls crying out in agony.

She lunged forward, her body moving at an impossible speed. 

Kazaks, with his war hammer raised, tried to smash her head, but she caught the hammer with her bare hand, the impact rippling through her but not breaking her grip.

Her bleeding face contorted into a smile as she looked at him, blood dripping from her eyes and mouth. 

Andhur, desperately trying to protect Seraphina, stabbed at Evelori's side with his glaive. 

The blade sank in, but Evelori's flesh clung to it, pulling it deeper into her body.

Qarek, with a roar, swung his war axe at her neck, aiming to decapitate her. 

But Evelori caught the blade between her shoulder and neck, holding it in place as her head twisted to look at him.

The group stood frozen, their weapons stuck, their breaths heavy with fear and disbelief. 

Evelori's voice echoed in their minds.

"You are too weak. You cannot kill what is already dead. I will feast on your fear."

The battle was far from over.

Kazaks and Andhur felt a shiver down their spines as Evelori's body began to stretch unnaturally, her skeletal limbs bending and warping like melted wax. 

Without warning, she lunged at them, her elongated fingers wrapping around their bodies. 

Her skin morphed, turning into a viscous, glue-like substance that clung to them. 

Kazaks grunted, trying to wrench free, but the sticky hold only tightened.

Andhur growled, feeling the flesh-like substance engulf his arms and legs, pulling him closer to Evelori's monstrous form.

"What the hell is this?!" 

Kazaks slammed his war hammer against her body, but it stuck fast, the impact absorbed like he was hitting tar. 

He gritted his teeth and growled. 

"Damn it! I can't move!"

Evelori's face twisted into a sick grin, her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed. 

With a horrifying sound, like wet cloth ripping, her neck extended and stretched towards them. 

Her mouth opened impossibly wide, and a putrid, green gas poured out, engulfing Kazaks and Andhur.

The mist was thick, cloying, and suffused with the stench of rotting flesh. 

It filled their lungs, making them gag and choke. 

The sensation was akin to inhaling burning acid — their throats and chests seared with pain. 

Andhur coughed violently, spitting blood as he struggled against the toxic fumes.

Evelori's voice slithered into their ears, whispering. 

"You two will make perfect test subjects along with the two hunters I catched last night. They're fun, siblings, strong. I need fresh flesh... strong bodies... yes, you will do nicely." 

Her words dripped with malice, her lips curling in delight as she watched them writhing in agony.

In a sudden, horrifying movement, Evelori turned, her body distorting grotesquely as she started to run. 

Her legs stretched like liquid, carrying her at an inhuman speed. 

The war hammer, glaive, and war axe stuck to her form like glued-on accessories, the weapons embedded into her flesh as if they were mere decorations.

Qarek roared, sprinting after her, his face contorted with rage and panic. 

"No! Come back!" 

He could see Kazaks and Andhur trapped in her body, their faces half-embedded in the sticky substance, eyes wide with fear and pain. 

They were slowly being pulled deeper into her, like flies caught in a spider's web.

As Qarek ran, he saw something even more horrific. 

The dozens of eye sockets that had been crawling out of Evelori's flesh began to pulse and swell. 

The hollow, gaping sockets filled with blood before bursting open in a gruesome spray, the red liquid splattering across the ground. 

The eyes—

Or what was left of them— 

Twitched briefly—

Then lay still—

Dead.

Seraphina fell to her knees, her hands clutching her head in despair. 

She recognized the voice that had whispered to her earlier — the deteriorated, distorted voice of a young villager she once knew. 

Her heart twisted with a sickening realization. 

"That was her..." she murmured, tears welling in her eyes. 

"The child I used to teach... she's... gone."

The reality hit Seraphina like a physical blow. 

The innocent soul had been twisted, warped beyond recognition, forced into this abomination. 

Her hands trembled uncontrollably, her mind reeling from the horror she had witnessed.

Lyra, still standing, drew her bowstring taut and released an enchanted arrow. 

The arrow whistled through the air, glowing with a faint, ethereal light. 

But Evelori twisted her body in a grotesque spiral, dodging the attack effortlessly. 

The arrow embedded itself harmlessly into the ground, the light fading away.

Lyra shouted, her voice shaking. 

"She's too fast!" 

She pulled another arrow, but her hands were trembling so badly that she could hardly notch it.

Qarek turned to them, his face a mask of panic. 

He shouted, his voice raw with desperation. 

"We have to get Andhur and Kazaks back!" 

He looked between Lyra and Seraphina, his breaths ragged. 

"We can't leave them!"

But Seraphina was still on her knees, her gaze distant, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

The shock and despair had rooted her to the spot. 

Lyra, standing nearby, seemed equally paralyzed. 

Her eyes were wide, staring blankly into the dark forest as Evelori disappeared into the distance, the trapped forms of Kazaks and Andhur still visible, their muffled cries echoing faintly.

The silence that followed was deafening. 

It felt as though the forest itself held its breath, the trees whispering dark secrets to one another.

Qarek clenched his fists, his knuckles white. 

He shouted, his voice breaking with desperation. 

"Seraphina! Lyra! Snap out of it!" 

He looked back towards where Evelori had vanished, then back at his comrades, who seemed frozen in terror.

Seraphina slowly lifted her head, her eyes filled with a grief-stricken, hollow look. 

"They... the villagers... she used them all..." 

Her voice was barely a whisper, choked with sobs. 

"She made them into... that. And I... I couldn't save them."

Lyra knelt beside Seraphina, her expression a mix of horror and sorrow. 

"How... how can we fight something like that? She's... she's beyond anything I've ever seen."

Qarek grabbed Seraphina by the shoulders, shaking her gently. 

"Listen to me! We have to get them back! Andhur and Kazaks are still alive! If we give up now, they're as good as dead!"

Seraphina blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

She looked up at Qarek, the raw emotion in his eyes snapping her out of her daze. 

She wiped her eyes quickly, nodding, though her hands still trembled. 

"You're right... you're right... we can't let her take them."

Qarek nodded, his expression grim. 

He looked towards the direction Evelori had fled, the darkness swallowing her twisted form. 

"We need to regroup. Find the others. We can't take her on alone, not like this."

Lyra, though still visibly shaken, managed to stand. 

She drew in a deep breath, her hands steadying as she pulled out another enchanted arrow. 

"We'll get them back. I swear it."

Seraphina pushed herself to her feet, clenching her fists, her eyes burning with a mix of fear and determination. 

"Let's go. We're not leaving anyone behind."

The trio took off, their hearts pounding, their minds filled with a single, desperate thought.

Rescue their friends.

△▼△▼△▼△

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over EmberWind Village. 

The air was heavy with an eerie stillness, the kind that made every rustling leaf seem like a whisper of warning. 

Nert and Gargeal walked side by side, their footsteps almost silent on the cobbled path as they strolled away from the cabin they had left behind.

Nert glanced back over his shoulder, his thoughts drifting to Jiighual, who had remained inside. 

He could still see the pained look on his friend's face when he and Gargeal decided to give him some space. 

Nert's brow furrowed in concern. 

"Master, did you notice how Jiighual looked when we left?" 

Gargeal, ever stoic, kept his gaze ahead, his expression unreadable. 

He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as if considering his words carefully. 

"Yes," he finally replied, his voice low and steady.

 "He seemed... distant. Sad, even."

Nert nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 

"It's not like him to be so... quiet. You think something's bothering him?"

Gargeal's face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes — perhaps concern, perhaps understanding. 

"He's carrying a burden," Gargeal said slowly. 

"One that's heavier than most."

Nert looked up at the night sky, trying to find the right words. 

"He's never been like this. Do you think it's the village? The memories it might bring back?"

Gargeal gave a slight nod, acknowledging the possibility. 

"Perhaps. This place may remind him of something he's lost."

They continued walking, the conversation dipping into comfortable silence. 

Nert glanced at Gargeal from the corner of his eye. 

Even now, his master's stoic expression didn't betray any emotion. 

It was one of the things Nert admired about him—

That unyielding calm in the face of anything. 

But tonight, there was a tension in the air that even Gargeal couldn't entirely ignore.

The path led them deeper into the village, past rows of small, dimly lit houses. 

Nert's gaze wandered over the buildings, then settled on a figure standing by the edge of the road. 

It was a woman, her eyes wide and unblinking, staring into the distance. 

Her movements were rigid, almost mechanical, as if she were a puppet being pulled by invisible strings.

Nert slowed his steps, his attention immediately drawn to her unnatural stance. 

He nudged Gargeal gently with his elbow. 

He whispered.

"Master, look at her."

Gargeal's eyes shifted to the woman, his expression tightening slightly. 

They passed her slowly, Nert keeping a cautious eye on her the entire time. 

The woman's head turned almost imperceptibly as they walked by, following them with her blank, glassy stare. 

It sent a shiver down Nert's spine.

Once they were a few paces away, Nert stopped and turned around, glancing back at her. 

Gargeal did the same, his eyes narrowing as he observed the way she stood — motionless, her gaze still locked on them.

Nert's voice was low, barely more than a mutter. 

"Master, did that lady look... normal to you?"

Gargeal's response was immediate, his tone firm yet calm. 

"No. That was not the look of a human."

Nert felt a chill run down his spine at the confirmation. 

He turned slowly, his eyes scanning the village around them. 

He noticed more figures — villagers standing in the streets, all of them with the same vacant, doll-like expressions. 

Their bodies were unnaturally stiff, their movements jerky and puppet-like whenever they took a step. 

It was as if they were frozen in place, only coming to life in response to some unseen command.

Nert's heart began to race. 

He was a seasoned warrior—

No stranger to the sight of fear or death—

But there was something profoundly unsettling about the scene before him. 

Gargeal, however, remained calm. 

His eyes flicked from one villager to the next, analyzing, calculating. 

He took a slow, deep breath, his expression as unreadable as ever. 

"Nert," he said quietly.

"There's a presence here. Dark. Necrotic."

Nert's breath hitched at Gargeal's words. 

He forced himself to stay calm, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Master, what do we do?" 

Gargeal turned to him, his gaze steady and reassuring despite the tension in the air. 

"We remain vigilant. Do not let your guard down. This is no ordinary village, and these are no ordinary villagers."

They continued their walk, but now Nert's eyes darted around, scanning every corner, every shadow. 

The paranoia was setting in—

A gnawing fear that crawled up his spine. 

He couldn't help but feel like they were being watched, that every set of lifeless eyes was following their every move.

As they walked, they passed a group of villagers huddled together. 

Their faces were all the same — expressionless, blank, as if they were mere shells.

One of them, a young man, turned his head sharply towards Nert and Gargeal as they passed, his neck twisting at an unnatural angle.

Nert's body is tense and ready for a fight. 

He exchanged a quick glance with Gargeal, who gave a slight nod. 

They moved forward cautiously, every step feeling like they were walking deeper into the jaws of a trap.

Nert whispered.

"These people... it's like they're not real. They look human, but something's off. It's like they're... puppets."

Gargeal's eyes narrowed as he observed the villagers. 

"Yes. I've seen this before," he muttered, his voice dark and grim. 

"Necromancy. Someone is controlling them."

Nert's heart sank at the realization. 

He had heard tales of necromancers who could take control of the living, turning them into mindless puppets. 

But to see it here, in this seemingly peaceful village... 

It was a nightmare.

They continued walking, the unsettling feeling growing stronger with each step. 

Nert's paranoia was now in full bloom. 

He scanned the faces of the villagers around them, searching for any sign of humanity, but found none. 

All he saw were empty eyes and vacant expressions.

Gargeal suddenly stopped, his hand raised in a silent gesture for Nert to halt as well. 

He turned his head slightly, listening. 

The air was filled with an unnatural silence, the kind that made Nert's skin crawl.

Nert whispered, his voice tense.

"Master, what is it?" 

Gargeal didn't respond immediately. 

His eyes were fixed on a shadowy figure standing further down the path. 

It was another villager, but this one seemed different. 

Its head was tilted to the side, and as they watched, its jaw began to move, opening and closing as if trying to speak, but no sound came out.

"That one," Gargeal said quietly. 

"Something's very wrong."

The figure slowly raised its head, its eyes meeting theirs. 

And in the pale light of the moon, Nert saw it — the glint of something unnatural in its eyes, a flicker of a different light, something dark and malevolent.

"Master..." Nert's voice was a tremble now. 

"We need to get out of here. Now."

Gargeal nodded, his gaze still locked on the figure. 

"Yes," he agreed, his voice low. 

"But stay alert. We don't know how many of them there are. Or who's controlling them."

As they turned to leave, the figure's head twisted sharply to the side with a sickening crack, the sound echoing in the silent night. 

And then it began to move, stepping forward with stiff, jerky motions, its mouth opening into a wide, unnatural grin.

Nert felt his blood run cold. 

"Master, it's coming towards us."

Gargeal held his ground, his face a mask of calm determination. 

"We must inform the others," he said quietly. 

"This village is no longer safe."

Nert and Gargeal quickened their pace, the unease settling in their bones like a cold shiver that wouldn't leave. 

The village around them seemed to close in, the narrow streets dark and twisted under the moonlight, every shadow hiding something sinister. 

Nert's heartbeat pounded in his ears, each thud a reminder that they were far from safe.

Just as they turned a corner, a figure stepped out from the darkness, blocking their path. 

It was a woman, her appearance startlingly normal in contrast to the lifeless, puppet-like villagers they had seen moments before. 

Her eyes, sharp and calculating, darted from Nert to Gargeal. 

She glanced over her shoulder quickly, as if making sure they were alone, then leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"Hey, you two," she hissed, her voice urgent. 

"Renaissance Band, right? Listen to me—don't act mysterious. The more you look out of place, the more they'll see you as a threat. That's why they're staring at you like that."

═════ ◆ TO BE CONTINUED ◆ ═════