As we moved further down the trail the surroundings began to get louder. I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was getting even more nervous. The issue was the larger groups of undead that we kept seeing. New [Inching Maws] a form of legless undead that dragged itself forwards and [Deprived Husks], desiccated compared to the rest of us. Up until now I was putting off the situation I was in. Simply ignoring the reality, half convincing myself that I was surrounded by people in prop costumes. They had started to get more disturbing in appearance.

It couldn’t have been only the noise box. Sure, it made the sound of some air raid but it wasn’t that loud. The machine was more of a novelty item than a proper deterrent. An in-the-moment purchase. Something other than myself had brought them here. It might have been the blood. The same effect I had when I noticed the smell.

This is good. Possibly the greatest thing that could happen. There will be more bodies in-between me and an investigative force. I could use them as a distraction as I grabbed what I could.

Funny how hope is. I can very much feel it inside of me as I keep walking. It’s not being dulled as the other emotions have been.

After another ten minutes I start to see the beginning of a proper forest. No longer giant decades old trees blocking out what little sun the fog didn’t keep away, the fragments of light bringing some color into this place. The trees got smaller and packed in tighter. It got harder to move in a straight line.

Luckily the trail was easier now to follow. The blood stains of the fresh group was littered everywhere. Tree bark clinging on to fragments of hair. Bushes outright soaked in red from when they passed through. And…

And. What is that?

It was like staring at a soup of clouds. A wall of dark-grey storm clouds. The trail leading straight into it.

Wasn’t hard to guess that magic was happening. An enchantment? Curse? Unnatural is what my mind told me. The more I stared at it I would get a random feeling of goosebumps.

I am so close. I can’t back away now.

A runner zoomed past me without a second thought. The wall didn’t give any visual clue as to registering it running through. It just kept being a wall of dark-grey clouds.

I got closer to the [Last Will] and grabbed the nearest other one to me. A young woman.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. She’s just small enough that I could toss her if I needed to make a quick escape.

Time, time, time. Too much stalling is always bad. I tried to live life proactively. Not allowing opportunities to escape me. It would be an insult to my past self to not be as everyone would say, ‘reckless’.

I hugged her in front of me as a shield and continued. The anxiety making me forget about making noise so the others could follow.

Another runner dashed past us. I guess they’ll follow even without my guidance.

As we got to the barrier, there was the quickest notification I had received yet. I wasn’t able to register it. A sensation of awareness seeped into my own body. I could feel the woman flex her muscles compared to the stiffness from before at the same moment. And then, brightness.

I didn’t flinch or squint my eyes. It was all there in a moment.

A large grassland with sparsely populated trees and a few mounds of overgrown dirt littered the plains. Far off in the distance there was a small speck of a mountain range barely visible. There was the sounds of rivers nearby and a slosh from our steps in the mud. The runners were making lines in the tall grass in varying uncoordinated patterns.

“Ha.” The sun does exist. I had started to wonder if the [Spirit]s were the only source of light and I mistook them for the sun all these days.

The most exotic place I have visited would be the desert where my grandparents lived. I was amazed at the simply large patch of grass. Most of my life had been next to the mountains so this was amazing. I know it’s just a stupidly large grass field but I did have a plan to go touring the world after high school. Rub it even more into the class that sitting around doing nothing is the best they can do. Splurge my money in their faces–

No. Focus. I can reminisce later.

There wasn’t anything obvious near us. The grass was nearing my neck in height, obscuring my vision somewhat.

I turn around. Maybe I could climb a tree? The barrier wall thing was there. Right, I couldn’t see through it before.

More undead started to come through. A [Spirit] became near invisible when the sunlight touched her. The last of the fresh stragglers made it after.

I let go of my safety partner and grabbed instead the [Last Will] placing my foot on his thigh.

“Definitely going to hell with how much I’m handling you guys. Again, sorry.”

I pulled myself up on-top of his back and gave him a pat.

There was still nothing. No crash or a disturbed patch of grass like the runners are making. No burning like a classical story of a smoldering caravan. Nothing.

This doesn’t make sense. They came from somewhere. Here. The blood trail led here. There was no blood. With how the state of the forest floor was left in it was as if they died directly outside. Yet, nothing.

I took a look around again. Grass everywhere. Groups of trees randomly strewn about. I can finally see the rivers being on top of the big guy. About three of them coming the north. Large mounds, like hills, isolated in the sea of green, were speckled across the area.

There was a group of the smaller ones directly in front of us. With what looked to be a pile of random debris.

There isn’t movement. At least from where I can see. It won’t hurt to take a look.

I give out a shout and the big guy starts walking in tandem. Almost as if he understood me wanting to go forward. This is perfect. Maybe I can train my unreliable healer to not get us killed.

~~~

A sharp rhythmic clanging of metal on rock could be heard in the dark corridors. The olive lamps cast an iridescent glow on the walls. A murmur began from deep end of the mines until a modest pitch overcame the surroundings.

“Lunch time!” A voice barely loud enough to be considered a shout rang out.

“What I would give for a carrot right about now!”

“You think they found any more of them reeds? They taste pretty similar.”

A group of gnomes came out of the depths to gather in a large underground chamber. The leader of the group made a head count as the workers continued their gossip. Amongst the group of seasoned miners was a scholarly looking lad. Ragged beyond reason with a tired but satisfied smile on his face.

“See now what I meant?” A palm grabbed the young man’s shoulder. “It’s baked into our blood.”

“It is different.” The young man replied, his smile growing even bigger.”

“Look at his face,” a voice came from the left, “he’s almost as happy as when he got his beau.”

A round of laughter ensued as they made their way down the most illuminated tunnel.

The man shook the boy’s shoulder in a caring gesture.

“Don’t tease the boy,” said the man. “One thing to be working on them. Another to be down here mining the gems yourself. You feel that now Torji?”

The features of the speaker became more visible the closer they got to the outside. A lanky body, toned, with liver spots about his arms. A face with a few strands of a once prominent beard with pointed ears, stared proudly at the young man.

“I didn’t think it would affect me like it did,” said Torji.

“It’s just the gnome way kid. Here’s to remembering us and your roots for when you set off.”

They had made it outside onto an impromptu camp surrounded by their village. A series of domed abodes the population of three hundred called home. The sun was high past noon. The air crisp with smells of the nearby river.

“Ahh,” came a sigh from one of the miners. He had made his way to a patio table filled with food and begun to fill his plate. “To think the empire kept its word. Good land and even a surprise boon of an untapped vein!”

Cheers broke out at his statement.

“Munbit!”

“What?! We’re having a moment here!”

A rather stout man for his species wearing an open helmet came over in a rush. He looked confused and embarrassed.

“Something weird is happening sir,” he whispered to Munbit. “Already sent my brother to fetch the mayor I did. It’s the funeral mound.”

The funeral mounds were ancient, from a time six kingdoms before present, scattered across the savannah. It had been nearly a thousand years since they had been used. The religion having waned throughout the years. Now they were considered to be nests for the wildlife. A necessary development to preserve species to hunt. No one went there. Nothing happened. Most believed it to be haunted and had far too much respect to venture forth.

“Think some of the young ones are causing trouble?” said Munbit. “They’ll come back running once they realize there’s leveled creatures in there.”

“That’s not it sir,” the guard was even more perturbed. He couldn’t figure out how to address the elder while maintaining the proper courtesy gnome society demanded. “No sir. You need to see it. It, changed.”

Munbit noticed the pause on the guard’s voice at the end. The slight dip of his shoulders and complicated expression. And, suppressed a chuckle. His tribe had never been in conflict. Their entire history was speckled with serving kingdoms as enchanters across the continent. Their place, a hidden away room surrounded by guards at all times. Munbit saw a small gem-cutter playing constable in a panic before him.

The land around these parts had been cleared of monsters eighty years ago. Even the odd exception that was would not be above [Lvl. 15]. A mighty fine and well-earned payment for those of the family that wanted to do something different. Expand their knowledge past their ancestry.

“Fine, show me. But you owe me a pie.”

The guard, by the name of Bundy, nodded and ushered him towards the mound. They passed villagers asking what was happening. Enough that the regular folk have noticed something unnerved Munbit. It was always an ordeal dealing with slight panics that kept arising the few months they had made camp.

As they came about to the makeshift guard tower Bundy made his way on top of a home and laid down. The custom of keeping their homes secret guiding their actions and they kept their profile low, allowing their collective bloodline magic to maintain the illusion of an empty space.

They dragged themselves to peak over the bend.

What he saw next was the hill covered in grey. Plumes of smoke would dribble onto the surrounding area. Similar in appearance to a winter gem laid out in the open. In the middle of it all was a slight modicum of light that would dance within.

"That. Is different," said Munbit, remembering Torji’s quip earlier. His mind began to race with possible scenarios. Appropriate offerings of respect were given. There was no need for the deceased to cover the area in mist. He had seen it too many times in city graveyards. Or for the natural spawns to be able to affect an area that large; without a dedicated curse to fuel it. They would be considered second-rate enchanters if they didn't have an early warning system for dark magics.

“Weathers wrong to create this,” Bundy quipped.

“Where is that half-dungeon that got reported last month? The one that was found to be growing.”

“About forty clicks from here, sir. But the local lord had already sent his knights to train there.”

“They weren’t there before,” came a whisper in the wind. Munbit tracked the origin to the top of the crudely made watchtower. There, a guard with the glow on his lips of an activated skill, motioned towards the north end of the hill.

Munbit turned to see a group of people running in haphazard zig-zags in every direction. Others following after in their own sprint. Too far away to make out any details the gnomes continued their vigilance.

“Put the ward up,” he told the watchtower. He shuffled in place to face Bundy, “Get the word out for everyone to get inside and stay there. And bring the shields. I’ll see what’s taking the mayor so long.”

Bundy shook his head to confirm. “Yes, dad.”

“I’m not your dad.”

As Munbit contemplated how to utilize the necessary kill box all settlements had to deal with wayward monsters, a shadow flashed over him. A [Putrid Wolf], he managed to identify, landed in front of him. It took a moment to hone onto a nearby laborer and lunged.

The blackened teeth of the beast snapped shut on where he was. The skin of its prey broke. The wolf’s teeth shattered. What little instinct remained caused the [Putrid Wolf] to reel back. Only to be grabbed by the neck and lifted into the air.

“Damn pup. That hurt!”

Bundy was staring at the village dad, Munbit, in the place where the laborer was at a few moments ago.

“Stop staring you two!” Mundbit commanded his two petrified observers.  “I’m trying to rip the head off but I’m not doing any damage! Run-off to the temple you! Bundy!”

“Yes!”

“Ring the fucking alarm! This thing has to be at least a third of my level if it’s fighting back,” Mundbit grumbled as he shifted his weight to compensate. The wolf had started to trash in the air. Bringing its hindlegs to claw at Mundbit’s head. A guttural snarl tried to escape from the beasts as he tightened his grip.

A refraction of water swept across the village as the hard illusionary barrier was activated. Offering protection against hostile monsters by removing sensory input on top of the enhanced [Perception Filter] spell.

"Fuck," Munbit began cursing.

One of the laborers was in danger and he had used one of his high-end charms to switch places with him. It would take hours to recharge it naturally, unless he wanted to leave the village vulnerable; burning through his [Mana Points] was not ideal when there were more things encircling their home. In his moment of panic, he had sent the only two that were with him away as well. Up until a few months ago all he had done in his life was [enchantment] maintenance. He had left himself alone with a monster that was able to push back against his [Strength] stat. The dread was starting to creep into his subconscious. He realized that only after he had isolated himself. His rational thinking was failing. Too much was happening for the former desk worker.

"Is anyone there," he spoke loud enough to not scream. Going up to the threshold to not cause the stacked illusions to waver.

I need to get rid of this, he thought to himself. If the other things are the same level then it will be a bloodbath. This is a good land. Why?

"Anyone." He squeezed against the neck of the undead. The same result as before. No loss of [Health Points]. His mind couldn't recollect through the adrenaline what was needed against an undead. Magic was usually the answer but what kind? Even if he remembered, he was a [Gemling] not a [Mage]. He needed equipment.

There was a rush of movement behind him before a spear appeared next to his head and sunk into the wolfs head. Another followed into the spine.

"Just hold him to the ground. Trust me."

Mundbit couldn't believe that there was someone insane enough to try to help. They should have seen someone of his level struggling. Yet they hadn't hesitated to brave something that was capable of killing them in one hit. He would not let their action go to waste, even if it began to tug at his tears. He carried the momentum and slammed the wolf to the ground. Noticing that there was a burlap sack already placed to dampen the sound.

"Do it Sarug. We don't have all day," came from the holder of the spear near his head.

A grunt and a flash of metal came down onto the wolfs head. Once, twice, three times and the head came off.

"Now that wasn't so bad, ey. Come here." There was shuffling and Mundbit let go of the body. When he turned he saw the butcher Sarug being given a kiss only a wife who saw a new part of her man could.

"I'm sorry but I need this," said Mundbit. He took the spear from her and wrenched it out of the wolf. The two stopped to see him plunge it through the ribcage and with a full show of force, drove it into the ground. Impaling it.

"Was that needed?"

"Damn it Torji why did you follow?" He wanted to scold him further but he had to admit that the young lad had saved everyone valuable time by helping him. Mundbit took a second glance at the married couple and turned to Torji. "It's not that easy."

As if on cue, the [Putrid Wolf]'s legs started to twitch with a jolt of movement.

"What in the hell?! I thought you said silver worked on it?" Sarug asked Torji.

The group took several steps back as the wolf became more animated.

"That only helps damaging the body," Mundbit responded for Torji. "The dead are dead. They can't move.” The wolf began thrashing on the ground. Unable to move it could only claw at the ground. The spear firmly holding it in place. "Like golems," he continued, “if they don't have a core to destroy then you have to destabilize the magic binding them. Otherwise, the parts keep moving. Unlike golems, nobody knows exactly how they work. Look at the head."

The three followed his words and saw the eyes fully aware in the remains of the wolf. What happened next was the body of it began to convulse. As they watched, Sarug embraced his wife who scoffed at him and slapped his hands away. Some of its fur fell away and pustules began to form.

"Ack, why is that happening? You know what? I don't want to know." Sarug's wife Beliti began marching away. "I'mma get another spear and a torching stone. Sarug, behave yourself. Old man, make sure he helps. I'll be back."

"What about me?"

"Go gather the other children Torji. Take them underground. Anywhere really. The adults will handle this." She smiled at the last part. "Mundbit! Get your head out of your ass. We need—"

A blast of an unholy sound cut her off. An undulating howling noise too crisp to come from anything living broke through air. A quick check of status suggested that it was pure. Not by magic or skills. A terror that by-passed the system's [Fear] effect yet capable of affecting them. Primal even.

A body slammed into wood and a crash. Their attention pried from their stupor to the watchtower. Another gangly thing slammed into the makeshift walls. And another then more followed, snarling and clawing to get inside.