Within the Haze (Part 1)

"Milord, all goods are packed. Last night's 'support supplies'—including seven cattle, twenty sheep, one packhorse, and various other items—have all been recorded in your ledger and loaded."

Steward Karim wore neat linen robes, yet his expression remained sullen. No one rejoiced at entering the Northern Wastes. They stood atop the city walls gazing into the distance, but beyond the gray mist merging with the sky lay only more gray mist.

He had considered fleeing, but Field offered him no opportunity.

Slave soldiers like Mountain Cat, corrupted by coin, had become Field's unwavering loyalists. Karim knew with certainty: one step toward escape, and those damned lackeys would cut him down. Field would then reward them with a silver piece. *Damned mercenaries*, the steward cursed silently. *Selling their souls for coin, throwing their lives away*. Slaves were like that—offer them a sliver of hope or preferential treatment, and they'd gladly lay down their lives.

"Milord..." Karim hesitated, stealing several glances at Ashina before finally voicing his doubt. "That slave—forgive me, I mean Miss Ashina—is she truly the Chosen One? Might this be... deception? Could she demonstrate a miracle?"

To bolster morale, Field had gathered everyone the previous night and announced the presence of the Chosen One.

"Must I prove it to *you*? Perhaps you'd care to lead this expedition while I serve as *your* steward? Though I wonder how long you'd survive Imperial purges." Field halted Ashina's instinct to summon her giant wolf. He snorted coldly, frowning at his steward. This disloyal servant had done nothing but spread despair. Were it not for his status as one of only two literate men among them, Field would have demoted him to stablehand long ago.

*Time to remind him of his place.*

Karim felt the weight of Field's displeasure. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. "Ah—" he stammered, then fell silent. His master seemed a different man entirely. Perhaps the family's pressure had changed him? That must be it. Even Karim himself dreaded entering this cursed land—how much more would a pampered noble resist? Karim's thoughts churned into chaos.

"No objections? Then we depart!"

Field lit the fog-dispelling lamp. At twenty-five gold coins each, every minute of its burning scattered wealth into the flames. Gritting his teeth, Field stepped into the Northern Province. All sound, all traces of living things vanished instantly, replaced by terrifying silence. Raising his head, Field saw the deathly gray haze enveloping them—eerie, sunless, and still. Prolonged exposure bred the illusion of sinking into an abyssal sea. Even Field felt tension coiling in his chest; fear prickled his skin. For the slaves, it was worse.

Were it not for the fog-dispelling lamp's protection against corruption—and Field's revelation about the Chosen One—they might have already lost their minds, charging blindly into the mist only to emerge as twisted monstrosities.

Red-black tendrils writhed across the ground—corrupted plants. Harmless, yet they snagged wagon wheels with stubborn persistence.

"Goddamn Silent Hill vibes," Field muttered, forcing calm. He took position at the head of the column, letting them see him, guiding their advance, lending them courage. *If a life-cherishing noble stands here, what excuse do they have to flee?*

*Caw-caw-caw...*

*Groooowl!*

Bizarre cries echoed endlessly through the haze. The lamp illuminated barely a hundred paces ahead; the roars came from far beyond. No one felt safe.

Crumbling ruins lay everywhere. Withered skulls, impaled on rusted spears, dotted the landscape. Field even spotted a faded griffon banner—the Empire had dispatched many legions to colonize these lands. All had died. All had become exemplary "permanent residents."

*Gulp.*

Field swallowed hard.

"Milord, step behind me." Ashina's crimson eyes fixed warily on the right flank. "Something approaches."

Soon, a corpse missing half its face staggered into view.

*Thwip!*

Ashina's arrow traced a silver arc through the air. The corpse's head burst apart like a shattered watermelon. The body tumbled twice, then lay still.

"Brace yourselves! More are coming!" Field's minimap flooded with crimson skull markers. Stealth abandoned, his voice cut through the silence. "Form the wagon wall! Archers, loose!" At Fort Kashan, Field had acquired eighty crossbows and a hundred Imperial longbows. Sadly, only two or three slaves possessed archery skills. Fortunately, crossbows were simple. Twenty men now held them.

The inhuman shrieking intensified. Heavy, shuffling footsteps thickened the air as a tide of corpses pressed forward, flooding into the lamplight. Though Field's minimap revealed nearby threats, their density forced confrontation.

"Damn it! Fire!" Field shouted, but the slaves had already loosed their trembling bolts.

*Whizz-whizz!* The front row of corpses crumpled as if hitting an invisible wall, seven or eight falling instantly.

Ashina slung her bow away. Her summoned giant wolf surged forward. Though only a Tier One Chosen, her power dwarfed any mortal warrior. Her longsword danced like a butterfly. Corpses fell beneath her blade—heads severed, skulls crushed by the Dragonkin Wolf's claws. Plunging deep into the densest cluster, she commanded the beast to spin.

Fire erupted. A flaming cyclone tore through the horde, reducing nearby corpses to ash.

"She... she truly *is* the Chosen One?" Karim rubbed his eyes, disbelief etched on his face.

Ashina shouldered immense pressure, yet the tension didn't ease. Limited by the haze's visibility, the endless stream of corpses emerging from the gray inflicted crushing psychological strain.

"Kill!" Mountain Cat roared, thrusting his halberd at an oncoming corpse. Three other halberds joined his, piercing rotten torsos. With a coordinated heave, they flung the bodies aside like discarded sacks. More corpse-creatures crashed into the slave guards' shield wall. Fists and claws rained against shields and scale armor in a relentless cacophony of clanging metal.

"Huh? What's that flying toward us?"

Field noticed a fast-moving skull icon on his minimap—already directly overhead. Without hesitation, he rolled from his saddle. Standing elevated alone invited disaster.

He barely found his footing when a rush of wind screamed downward.

"Above you!"

Field dropped low, thrusting his sword upward. A fleeting glimpse revealed a bat-woman—hairless, browless, grotesquely featured. Wings spanned where arms should be; her legs ended in razor-sharp talons.