12

As Ishlar and Haben continued deeper into the forest, the air grew colder. Some trees were still green and fresh, clinging to life—but most were twisted and dead, their bark pale like ash and their limbs clawing at the sky.

"What did he ask you to do here, by the way?" Ishlar asked, brushing aside a low branch.

"I need to summon a Ziggurat here," Haben answered. "He said he can see this far. If I can set them up, we can channel more dark energy."

Ishlar raised a brow. "He can see from here? That's... impressive."

Truthfully, Ishlar had been skeptical of Vanthelis's powers. The idea of summoning buildings instead of casting fireballs or wielding ancient weapons felt underwhelming at first. But now, seeing it in action, feeling the eerie pulse of dark energy that seemed to follow their steps—he was beginning to understand. There was more to it than met the eye.

He chuckled lightly, though it was bitter. I wanted to be chosen too… but maybe my time hasn't come.

Suddenly, a grotesque sound tore through the stillness. A deep, wet crunch, like bone shattering under teeth.

Grahhhh!

Both men froze.

"What was that?" Haben whispered, eyes narrowing.

Something inside him stirred. He felt no fear. No panic. Just curiosity, and a rising tide of cold rage. Since becoming an Acolyte, all his emotions felt muted—except for anger. That one burned hotter and clearer.

Ishlar motioned for silence and crouched low, moving carefully toward the sound. Haben followed, silent as a shadow.

As they pushed through the brush, they reached a clearing. The sight before them made Ishlar freeze in place.

A massive, hulking creature stood in the center, hunched over something on the ground. It was feasting—on human flesh.

But the creature wasn't human. Its limbs were long and gangly, its back ridged with barnacle-like growths. Its skin was a sickly blue-green, with scales glinting faintly in the dim light. Its eyes glowed faintly, like sunken lanterns.

"A... Murloc," Ishlar muttered. "That's... not possible."

"What is it?" Haben asked.

"They're part of the Naga race. Or were. Everyone believed them extinct—slain by the Holy Empire decades ago. But if this one's alive, it means…" Ishlar trailed off.

He remembered the stories. The Naga were sea-dwellers, masters of underwater combat, responsible for the deaths of hundreds of seafarers and coastal settlements. The Holy Church had declared them extinct, purged in a righteous crusade. But here one was, alive—and eating a human.

Worse still, Murlocs didn't just spawn randomly. They were summoned in broods, often birthed by royal murloc princesses, servants of a Naga king.

If there's one... there could be more.

Crack.

Ishlar winced as his foot snapped a dry branch.

The Murloc's head snapped up, snarling. Blood stained its jagged teeth.

"We've been spotted!" Ishlar barked. "Prepare to run!"

Dozens of small, hunched figures began to crawl out from behind trees and rocks. Their glowing eyes peered through the shadows—dozens, no, hundreds of them.

Haben stood frozen, then clenched his fists. "Let's kill them."

The first Murloc lunged. Ishlar swung his sword in a clean arc, cleaving it through the chest. Green ichor sprayed across the leaves.

Another came. Then another.

They were small, but fast. They clawed and bit with wild frenzy. Ishlar was forced to backpedal, cutting through the tide. Blood splattered his tunic. His shoulder tore from a stray swipe. Pain flared.

He couldn't keep this up.

Haben moved beside him, calm—too calm. He raised his hand, and black mist spiraled from his palm.

The nearest Murloc screeched as its skin began to wither. Its eyes shrank, its limbs weakened.

"Sap," Haben said flatly. "I can drain their life."

Ishlar hacked down another. "Then do it!"

The battle stretched into minutes that felt like hours. Ishlar's sword became heavy, his breaths ragged. The Murlocs were overwhelming in number. Even as they fell, more rose behind them.

But Haben was relentless. Everywhere he stepped, Murlocs slowed and withered. Their energy fed into him, strengthening his form.

"Behind you!" Ishlar cried.

A Murloc leapt. Haben turned just in time, black mist surging in a wave. The creature exploded mid-air.

Finally, only a few remained. And those, seeing their kin slaughtered, turned and fled into the shadows.

Silence fell.

Ishlar dropped to one knee, blood dripping from a gash on his leg. "Damn… they just kept coming."

"Are you alright?" Haben asked.

"I'll live. You saved me. That power of yours... it's terrifying."

Haben nodded once. "I can feel their memories as I drain them. It's... dark. They were commanded. They didn't come here alone."

Ishlar's blood ran cold. "So, the summoner is nearby."

"Maybe sleeping. Maybe watching. But definitely not gone."

The forest swayed in silence again.

They needed to warn Vanthelis.

They needed to prepare.

The Naga were back—and they were hungry.