Within the Haze (Part 3)

Field offered a smile as warm as spring breeze. "So, you're here to escort us, correct? As knightly honor dictates. Hail the Valkyries."

Connor, inwardly rejoicing that Field seemed oblivious to his true purpose, eagerly seized the lifeline. "Ah, yes, exactly!"

"Splendid! Dismount and join us for some ale. We're about to set off. Plenty of opportunities for you to demonstrate that knightly spirit along the way." Field gestured for Ashina to step back, then casually invited the cavalrymen to drink.

The riders hesitated, their guilt warring with desperate hope.

Facing the Chosen head-on meant certain annihilation. Fleeing was impossible; Ashina had snatched their fog-lamp the moment she subdued Connor. Venturing into the deathly haze without its protection was suicide.

"Seems the Baron hasn't guessed our intent."

"True. Field was always a fool."

Seeing Field's earnest expression and recalling his past kindness and perceived weakness, they began to indulge in delusion.

Persuaded by Field to dismount, they nervously gulped down ale, their tension easing slightly.

"Milord, I believe we should return to report our duty," Connor ventured, seeking an escape.

Field nearly choked back a laugh. These idiots truly thought him a gullible fool.

"Your horses are requisitioned for carrying supplies. You'll get them back at Nightfall Landing." Field dismissed the request airily, then pointed ahead. "You mentioned helping us scout the path, didn't you? Go on then. Lead the way."

Connor sensed danger. "I regret it, but I must return swiftly. The Countess must be growing impatient."

"Hah. Seems you don't understand the situation at all~" Field's smile vanished. A cold glance signaled Ashina.

*Crunch!*

Ashina's giant wolf clamped its jaws around a rider's head. The sickening *crack-crack-crunch* drowned out all other sound. The headless soldier gushed blood, collapsing to thrash violently on the ground.

Everyone—even Field's own people—held their breath, frozen in terror.

The brutality was overwhelming.

"I was wrong, Baron Field!" Connor threw himself prostrate. "It was your sister! Lady Liz ordered me!"

"Must I repeat myself, Captain Connor?" Field's voice was icy silk. "Scout the path. Or die now."

Cold. Connor felt it seep into his bones.

That inherent gentleness? Utter bullshit! He remembered nobles whispering how Field was soft as a lamb.

Lies! All of them! Connor cursed the liars bitterly.

Under the guards' leveled halberds, eighteen horseless riders formed a small square and trudged to the head of the column.

Field's minimap showed dense clusters of corpses rapidly converging ahead.

Taking a deep breath, Field gritted his teeth. "Move out!"

Nightfall Landing lay southwest in the Northern Province.

Guided by his minimap, Field bypassed most monsters. Three days later, they reached the Grand Starry Night Manor. The endless tide of corpses in Nightfall Landing seemed inexhaustible. Connor's trembling hands—his blade chipped, his expression numb, like a puppet on strings—bore testament. Constant battle had shattered him.

He was the last scout remaining. Credit where due—being captain meant he had skill. But deep gashes, writhing with unnatural flesh, marked where corpses had torn into him. Corruption had set in. Death was near.

"End it for him."

At Field's quiet command, Ashina's bowstring thrummed. An arrow pierced Connor's heart. Slaves moved forward with practiced efficiency to strip his body of valuables.

"We've reached Starry Night Manor! Finally." Field exhaled heavily at the sight of the estate entrance.

Cheers erupted from the weary group.

Ashina and the minimap had saved them.

Without the map marking enemy positions, Field knew they'd never have navigated through. The infinite waves of corpses would have swallowed them whole. "Clearly, no living soul has trodden here for ages," Ashina observed, tearing away the thick brambles choking the manor gates. A piercing *screech* echoed as the rusted ironwork groaned and collapsed inward. Ashina leapt back catlike, wincing apologetically. "Uh, seems the gate needs repairs."

Beyond lay the remnants of grandeur: tall, imposing wrought-iron gates; meticulously crafted stonework and statues; expansive gardens meant for beauty—now twisted by the gray haze into something eerie and desolate, yet still hinting at past opulence.

Two slave guards heaved aside the fallen gate. Field glimpsed skeletal remains—human, corrupted, and other unidentable horrors—amidst the blighted foliage.

Starry Night Manor sprawled across thirty hectares—roughly forty football fields.

It encompassed a swimming pool, gardens, tenant cottages, woodlands, granaries, wine cellars, stables, villas, and the central manor house.

It was obscenely opulent. Baron Sophia, after all, ruled a thriving city, her power far exceeding that of a mere honorary title. Generations of family wealth had solidified assets like this.

And this was just a baron's holding. Rumor whispered the Griffon Empress owned an estate spanning five hundred hectares. The trope of a heroine waking in a bed the size of a football field? Entirely plausible for the Empress.

Size brought numbers. The place teemed with monsters.

"Ten years of corruption. Places like granaries and stables hold no value now," Field stated, consulting the estate map against his minimap. "Likewise, ornamental gardens are worthless."

"Clear the main house first? Or secure one of the villas?"

Besides the central manor, three smaller villas stood ready for the lord's kin or guests.

Ashina vibrated with excitement; villas were utterly novel to her.

The slaves were even more awed, whispering excitedly. For the lowborn, merely working in a noble's villa—even sweeping floors—would be a boast for life, a story told to sons on their deathbeds.

Field studied the distant manor house. Shadows flickered beyond its broken windows. Suddenly, he felt an unseen gaze. A crushing weight pressed his chest, stealing his breath.

"Something... terrible likely resides in the main house. Best not to provoke it yet." Field quickly averted his eyes, rubbing his temples. He glanced at his minimap. Countless crimson skull icons clustered densely. But one symbol dominated: a massive red pulsating dot deep within the manor's basement. "Skulls mean corrupted creatures. What does the red dot signify? Likely another monstrosity."