The Witte Wieven turned and began moving, their walk akin to gliding. Their white dresses dragged behind them. Dasha got up and followed, careful to remain two metres behind. The mist seemed to part around them. The Witte Wieven were able to control the mist to some degree.
How strange.
'The design of the redwoods over the land is like a large-scale magic circle. I don't think I'm wrong about that. And the Will-o'-wisps, they were the guardians. So what are Witte Wieven here for? In some of the stories I read, the appearance of the Witte Wieven was very rare. Just based on intuition, it's a one in a million chance. They co-exist with the Will-o'-wisps but for what reason? Why does one not hunt the other?'
The mist around him continued to part as the women walked.
'Is it possible they've been fighting for control over the mist? Is that it? But why not kill each other?'
Faintly, he heard a voice.
"Ninàn, ninàn, la Borda…"
Dasha wanted to stop and listen. The continuing walk of the Witte Wieven prevented him from doing so. He kept going, on-guard.
"...la liga i bei babèn cun una côrda.
Cun una côrda e cun una curdella…"
It was a song in Emilian. But why? Why now? No, most importantly…
"La liga i bei babèn pu la i asserra…"
Where were these women taking him?
"Cun una côrda e cun una ligazza,
la liga i bei babèn pu la i amazza."
They stopped. The mist ahead of them parted till the land was completely unveiled. A small hunched woman stood on her knees.
Dasha narrowed his eyes.
In one gnarled hand, the woman clutched the corpse of a human, its lifeless form limp and pale in her grasp. With each slurp, she drank deeply from the flesh, her jagged teeth tearing into the flesh.
It was too easy, too practiced.
Her appearance was enough to turn the stomach of even the bravest warrior. Her skin was pallid and slimy, covered in patches of mold and algae. Long strands of matted black-purple hair hung limply around her face.
The Witte Wieven turned to Dasha. They gestured towards the Borda and said, "Kiilll heer…for us."
This was their desire.
[ Warning! Boss in vicinity! ]
[ Name: Borda
Level: 35
Class: Oracle ]
This was Dasha's objective.
The Borda in a guttural growl released her grip on the corpse. Rather than fall and stay, it sank into the murky depths of the soil. Briefly, Dasha acknowledged that it was a player and that this kill confirmed a hunch of his.
The soil swallowed the corpses of players. That was why Dasha had not seen or smelled the smell of rot. This woman went around, consumed them, and then let the soil eat what remained. The Borda was special in ways every other creature here was not. It was connected to this Gate.
Turning toward him, Borda's twisted features contorted into a grotesque approximation of a smile, revealing rows of yellowed teeth caked in grime, flesh, and decay. She had found it.
She had found him.
Though her eyes were covered by a blindfold, he could see and taste the malevolence radiating from them, a darkness that seemed to seep into his very soul. Somehow, they were a greater predator than her teeth; from those sharp mangled bones that tore apart dignity and memory.
The Witte Wieven spread further and further until it was only Dasha and the Borda. A black rope appeared in the left of the witch's hand and she hurled it forward. Its speed might have been unseen to an ordinary player. To Dasha, it was in slow motion. He let the rope envelop his wrist, then grabbed a fistful of it to reel the witch in and slam his fist into her ugly face.
A foul stench wafted from her, a sickening mixture of rot and decay. His fist slammed her down to the ground and she bounced. He slammed a second fist just in case. He anticipated blood. Instead, he heard laughter.
"Kekkekeke…!"
The Borda was smiling. The rope he was holding onto glowed darkly.
Suddenly, his gauntlets began to melt into black goo. 'What—?'