With plenty of time spent already dealing with the Dwarf, Jake found himself pressed for time. He hoped to complete one or two more tasks before the sun began to taper beneath the horizon. Though, his poor luck revealed itself again and it was not to be. The individual who put out the quest was proving to be more difficult to find than Jake expected. He understood that after two months, the requester couldn’t be expected to be waiting around doing nothing. The Dwarf’s patience was an exception, as the Dwarf didn’t seem to have much else to do in his old age. What Jake didn’t understand was that the man seemed to have disappeared entirely. Jake wasn’t fond of people wasting his time, especially when he had none of it to spare in the first place. Hunting down this guy wasn’t on the to-do list.

Something that was happening now. Jake of course started his search by going to the designated meeting location on the request sheet; the tavern beside his inn. Since it was just past the middle of the day, the tavern was mostly empty aside from a few couples, Guardsmen taking a break, or Adventurers loitering around having already finished their work or preparing for a night hunt. Jake inquired about the individual to a waitress, but was told he hadn’t been seen there for two weeks. Knowing that, Jake asked where the guy might live and then did some investigating around the residential sector to pinpoint his house.

A few doors were knocked on and Jake asked if the occupants knew the man and his whereabouts. Though neighbors, no one could share anything beyond that they’d seen him around every so often. Jake did learn that the man was an Adventurer himself, which made sense seeing as it was a sword that had been lost. The last door Jake disturbed was the home of an older woman who directed Jake to the next home down. He thanked the old woman and carried on to the next residence.

Once more rapping his knuckles against wood, Jake was answered by a middle aged woman and a toddler clinging to her leg. After a brief introduction, Jake was informed that they were the wife and child of the man who had posted the request. The wife in particular wasn’t elated to see the Adventurer and almost immediately began complaining about how it had taken so long for someone to pick up the request. Many of the complaints lobbed at him were about the general laziness of Adventurers and their lack of care of the general populace. Something or other about a constant chase of freedom and glory rather than the caring of the very people they’re supposed to protect. Jake largely ignored her and waited until she’d calmed down a little before he began to pry over information about her husband.

After some digging with more pointed questions and parrying further complaints, Jake finally got her to fess up where the man had gone. It seemed that after waiting for two weeks without a response from the Guild, the man decided to try and take matters into his own hands. He borrowed money for supplies, borrowed a weapon from another Adventurer, and acquired some simple gear. After a harsh argument, he ran off after his family sword. That had started a month ago.

For the following several weeks, he continued to check in at the tavern and the Guild in the mornings to try and recruit help personally. However, he had stopped waiting for no one to come to his aid. Instead, day in and day out, he tried to get it back himself. A bold decision but a foolish one. Every night, the man returned with more and more injuries. Injuries that were gradually getting worse as time went on and his gear was whittled down. He’d started mumbling insanities about strange creatures and his very mind was breaking. He was becoming a husk of a man, trying to get that weapon, and his wife had tried everything to get him to quit.

Now, it seemed, he’d gone off and hadn’t come back. She last saw her husband three days ago, packing his kit one final time with extra supplies and enough food for a journey. He’d left without a word, his head hung low and his very clothes in tatters. He refused to acknowledge anything she had said to him, ignored their child, and stared at the ground. Defeat was already in his eyes. Either that, or an understanding that he may never see that weapon again.

Hearing the details, Jake couldn’t help but feel like his troubles were only beginning. First it was the Dwarf and his muddled intentions. Now, a man who was shaving away pieces of his very mind to retrieve an artifact. An item, though important, could be replaced. But his life could not and it seemed he was willing to throw away everything for this stupid sword. Jake was beginning to understand why these requests were left untouched.

The other Adventurers who were familiar with this area, the frontier, knew what and who to avoid. Certain persons on that list were likely untrustworthy or something else. However, Jake wasn’t one to turn back on his word over something so senseless as a bull-hearted fool. Though they may be a little eccentric, everyone deserved an equal chance to be helped. This one might be a little beyond help, but Jake kept that to himself.

“I’ll find him,” Jake said to the wife before walking off. She had given him a general location of where the man had run off to and similarly provided a description of him. The description was rather generic but the fellow apparently had a deep scar across his lip and was missing a chunk of his right ear. It would be hard to miss those. She provided details of the armor he’d worn, the weapon he carried, and also his rank that would be found on his identification tag. Plenty of information to help identify a corpse, as Jake felt that by now it was what he would be looking for.

Once more, Jake left the village and headed north. Following the winding road. The sun was falling further and further out of the sky as time ticked along, causing the soft blue tone of the air to darken to a crimson red. Long shadows stretched across both the ground and the sky. Trees and clouds alike blocked the waning sun’s rays. Adventurers were returning from their own trips in droves, leaving Jake to fight against the grain as he strode out into the increasingly dangerous frontier. With every friendly sword that stepped into the village, another would crawl out of a pit somewhere.

Several curious eyes gave him an odd look and mumbled to one another, but none offered any advice or assistance. Jake didn’t blame them and returned no malice for their pitiful gazes. They knew it was foolish to travel at night, as did Jake. Anyone who chose to do so did it at their own peril. It was the witching hour, and the monsters would start crawling from their dens soon to prey on the brave and the ill-prepared.

As the crowd thinned, Jake rushed along and extended his stride. A familiar face rolled by, offering a kind greeting to the strange new Adventurer. Jake returned the words with his own as the cart driver passed. His cart was once again full of broken individuals and corpses, leaving no room for a passerby to hop on to save their tired feet. A few injured occupied whatever open space there was but more than a few looked beyond saving. Mangled or severed limbs. Broken faces. Hollow eyes.

Jake gave them no sympathy. They chose this life and burdened its risks. They knew its dangers, and they had suffered the consequences of their mistakes.

Pushing north further for nearly an hour, Jake eventually found himself coming upon a small altar on the side of the road. Behind it was a single room shack used for what Jake presumed was shelter during rain. Or just as a brief place to sit down and rest. The roof had caved in and the walls were cracked, though, so he didn’t think it had been used any time recently. Yet, it was his landmark. This was what the man used as his own checkpoint before entering the dangerous forest beyond. From here, Jake would need to track the man naturally.

After orienting himself, Jake walked past it and followed a thin trail that led off into the trees. The canopy blocked out the majority of the remaining light, forcing Jake to push mana into his eyes. His irises flared a soft blue and the world around him came to life. Traces of mana and life filled the trees, the flowers, the brush. Soft pulsating, warm glows turned the world around him into a glittering sea.

A beautiful sight, one that he had a feeling was too perfect.

Two hundred meters into the forest, he smelled Them. A familiar rot struck his nose, flooding his senses in violent warning. Instinctively, Jake pulled his weapons from their sheathes as his skin prickled across his body. Jake stomped hard on the ground and flooded the area with mana, blowing open his Sensory Magic in a display of force as he searched for the originators of the stench. If They were nearby, They would notice the veil of mana passing over them. The hilts of his Elven and Dwarven blades clung to his palms as he took in a single, deep breath.

Holding it, he listened.

…

Not a sound was to be heard. Not an insect chirped. Not a bird sang. Not even the leaves rustled in the wind. Time seemed to grow still, almost freezing entirely as the undeniable fragrance of decaying flesh filled Jake’s nostrils. Even his Sensory Magic returned zero. There was not a single source of mana aside from the trees and flora around him. The creatures living here must have fled.

Jake exhaled, having held his breath long enough. Not seeing anything around him or sensing anything, he pushed on. Like a hound on a track, he followed the rot. Jake kept his wits and regularly scanned the area with both eyes and mana. However, he found nothing out of the ordinary aside from the eerie silence and lack of even a bug in the air. Dusk turned to night and after nearly another hour of walking through the trees, Jake came upon his destination.

A massive sinkhole in the ground. The ground looked to have literally caved in and now sloped into a dark abyss that not even the light of the twinkling stars dared pierce. In its creation, the hole had swallowed up several trees, rocks, and plenty of dirt and muck to create a natural pitfall for the unknowing to fall into. From its maw, that disgusting stench of rot and death permeated. He knew what was here and his blood boiled at the knowledge of it. What Chul had said was true, then. This was the evidence.

Letting out a low rumble of contained rage, Jake descended into the pit. The ground inclined downwards in broken but walkable sections, allowing him to hop down until his feet touched stone. The drop wasn’t far and didn’t require any use of wind magic. If he’d wanted, he could have climbed down using a rope or the wall itself as the rocks were jagged and looked sturdy. Much like how he’d descended into the Ravine, Jake could’ve repeated the process here.

Relying on his night vision, Jake proceeded down the main tunnel. He didn’t make it far before he stepped on something soft. The sound of a plop and gushing tickled his ears, garnering his attention. Jake looked down to see the mangled remnants of a Goblin. Pieces of its flesh, crushed bones, and ripped out innards were all in a gooey pile. Taking a look around, dozens of others looked to have met the same fate. Realizing he was only seeing a fraction of the whole picture, Jake strengthened his night vision and scanned the cavern he was in.

Now able to fully grasp the scale of death around him, Jake noted that Goblins weren’t the only victims. As expected. There were several ripped and shredded corpses of murdered adventurers scattered about, their bodies devoured and slurped on by the occupants of the pit. Swords were shattered. Shields broken and cracked. Armor pulled apart, torn at the seams to allow access to the gooey insides of the wearers. Animals that had either fallen into the pit or come too close had been dragged inside, devoured and chewed on. Other monsters were victims as well, just like the Goblins, and were piled up in heaps.

It was a scene that would normally elicit disgust and urge the observer to vomit. The stench alone would have been enough to ward off the faint of heart. But, Jake only saw it as fuel for his rage. These things did not deserve to exist. To see even Goblins here, at their mercy, pissed him off. Though monsters and creatures of vile will, Goblins were a piece of the world. A functioning gear in the system of the Overworld that allowed it to properly continue. Unlike Them.

His rage was followed by curiosity, and concern. The bodies were piled rather close to the surface. Close enough that Jake presumed that They may have walked on it at some point. How, he wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling they had evolved enough in this deserted place to do so. Without anyone to cull their numbers or curb their development, They would have free reign in this sort of place.

Pushing on, Jake marched past the carnage and strode into the guts of the planet. The tunnel was wide and the rocks were carved away, allowing for easy passage of at least a dozen at a time. The strong, sturdy walls supported the massive gouge beneath the surface, providing a natural artery for movement of their kind. A typical environment with a familiar feel of the Ravine. Even the chill felt familiar. Heightened only by the steady rise in rana in the air the further Jake descended. He could taste it. The dense mass of raw mana floating out from below. There might not be a Dragon Vein here but this location likely sat along the Overworld’s internal network of ley lines. A natural hub where rana congregated beneath the surface for some reason.

A perfect cradle for them to make an appearance.

The descent was long, winding, and the rocks smooth beneath his clicking boots. A deep tendril that reached for the very core of the Overworld. The air grew thick, the rot more vile, and the rana pressed on his mana flow as its density increased. The intense tingling sensation caused the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end, dousing Jake in the sense of unease and despair. Should he turn off his night vision, Jake knew he’d find himself in a dark, scary pit, and his mind would scream for him to run away. Unfortunately, there would be no running.

They were here.

His feet came to a halt. His fingertips pushed painfully against the hilts of his weapons. Jake narrowed his eyes. At the very edge of his Sensory Magic, he could see them. Silent. Still. Like stoic corpses, loitering in the pitch black. A trap waiting to be sprung. Any Human who would descend this far would inevitably expose themselves with fire, and no other creature would foolishly dare come this far into a Maedra lair. The other races were either too wise or too scared to do so. Humans were not. Bold, curious, and overestimating themselves--they’d walk right into this place without hesitation. Hence why so many of their bodies were piled up around the entrance.

At this distance, however, Jake sat at the very edge of their vision. He knew they could smell him, taste him, but their “eyes” did not reach this far. It was why they remained still, unmoving, waiting for him to enter their “sight”.

See, after fighting the Maedra for so long, Jake learned that they could taste and smell with their strange orifices. It allowed them to get a general idea of their location, where they were in a set space, and if any prey were nearby that they might not be able to “see”. That “sight” of theirs was a strange ability to detect mana and life essence. That detection is what guided the Maedra to their prey. At a distance, it was useless. Maedra used their taste and smell for a sort of initial warning and detection. When They got closer, however, their mana detection was immaculate. It had a radius of fifteen meters exactly. No further. No closer. Anything within that circle could be seen by a Maedra.

So, when hunting them, Jake put his Sensory Magic to twenty meters. While true he could expand that radius, he only did so when he was uncertain of traps or when he knew the area was heavily occupied. This place was neither. There were no traces of Maedra near the entrance, and the rana was only thick enough to support them deep inside the tunnel here. The walls were also quite thick and smooth, so Maedra wouldn’t be able to hide in them very easily. If they did use such traps, evidence of it would have been left behind. No, this nest was still rather young and contained.

They remained within the depths of the tunnel, exiting it only to feed and catch foolish prey that tried to escape them, or to hunt should they be starving. The lack of animals in the area, their presence, and the number of corpses piled up near the entrance was proof of their activity.

Jake turned his head and spat at the ground, disgusted with the sight of the creatures. Their existence made his stomach churn. Even now his hatred for them had resurfaced. No amount of time would heal the wounds caused by their persistence. However, slaughtering them certainly never ceased to feel incredible. While he did hate them, it amused him to see them again.

He missed their dying wails of agony.

Tired of staring at their unmoving shadows, Jake conjured a Stone Breaker. It spun off his hip, the tip of the spell twisting into a vicious drill-shape. The fins extended and sharpened into razors. Then, he applied a series of runes along the shaft of the cylinder. Runes that would cause the contained wind to blast outwards like shrapnel, wholly intending on ripping their bodies to pieces after it penetrated their numbers.

Once it was complete, Jake tipped his Elven blade up, then down. The Stone Breaker tore through the tunnel, blasting through the front line of the Maedra. Several shrieked, their pained voices shattering the eerie silence of the tunnel. Then, the Stone Breaker exploded. The pressure caused the walls to shake, the ground to crack, the air to blast up and down the tunnel. The Maedra directly next to the spell were blown into chunks. Those close were shredded, their limbs broken or torn off. The rest were met with a powerful outward gust that knocked a few ill prepared Maedra to fall.

By the time they could recover or retaliate, Jake was in the face of the crumbling horde, with several Fire Spears angrily sailing over their heads. Explosions ripped through the darkness, illuminating the massive horde of the creatures, and Jake tasted the familiar rush of adrenaline in his veins. His body throbbed with excitement and his muscles flexed as they met the mushy resistance of Maedra flesh.

Bodies burned as the Fire Spears plunged into their rear numbers. Limbs soared into the air as they were separated by the dancing blades. Crystals shattered from stabs, jabs, cuts, and explosions. The walls became rough, sharp, and dangerous as spikes were thrust out of them. The floor crumbled and cracked before blowing outwards from Stone Breaker impacts, or caving in as Jake quite literally tore apart the rock beneath.

A symphony of endless merciless violence flowed out of the tunnel’s distant entrance. The angelic singing of Maedra evisceration sounding into the late evening. A quiet forest looked upon the hollow ground as the terror within was introduced to the one being that lived to hunt it.

Jake killed them. He killed every last one of them. His arms twirled. His feet pivoted and his hips twisted. His eyes swam and his mana flow throbbed. Their clubbed arms, razor fingers, bladed limbs, and angry jaws lunged at him all for naught as he dissected every feeble movement. Dancing on the edge of death by the very toes of his boots, Jake skated into the crowd of Maedra without hesitation. Dismantling the vanguard force of the nest with his very hands.

Yet, he was no fool. A nest’s strength was in its numbers, and he used every tool in his arsenal to diminish them. Peerless magic shred through those his blades could not reach. His weapons ripped apart those that could be cut. A mountain of shatter crystals lay at his feet when he finally shattered their will and the Maedra instinctively felt that their demise was inevitable. A few began to run, howling as they darted for the safety of the tunnel’s depths. Others second guessed an attack or hesitated to join the fray. Even fewer dared try to escape past him, but none made it far.

Jake’s Sensory Magic expanded outwards as the horde’s will crumbled, and he never let himself get too deep into the horde. All to ensure that any who dared flee behind him could be caught and disposed of before they got away. He teetered on the edge of being overwhelmed, backing out when necessary or jumping to avoid the piling of bodies. When he needed it, Jake even used a wall of magic to simply eradicate a dozen of them at once to give himself some breathing space. In time, their numbers dwindled and collapsed until he killed the last of them with a barrage of fire and wind spells, lighting up the tunnel one final time to end the fight.

Mounds of flesh piled at his feet, sizzling and gurgling. Innards painted the shattered walls. Craters dotted the floors with Maedra blood pooling at the bottom of a few. The shattered crystals were all that was left behind as those corpses dissolved. Broken remnants of a worthless existence. Though, Jake would not deny that some of those crystals were quite beautiful in color. But, he would not allow himself to collect them. No. They didn’t deserve it, and Jake made sure to crush them underfoot as he marched by. A final reminder of the only place where the Maedra deserved to exist.

After that initial horde, Jake came across scattered groups of five to ten further within the tunnel. None of the groups he dismantled were as massive or dangerous. Likely due to that horde being the main force down here. There was no need to conceal themselves deeper in. The groups he came across were likely just small batches of younger Maedra in development, still growing and inching their way towards the surface. Or, the nest was building waves of itself, and each group would be fed new numbers until they reached a certain number. Either was possible. Should too many collect in one place, the Maedra could actually stunt their own growth as the rana would grow thin. Maedra were craftier than their vile appearance shared.

Jake executed another group of eight when he finally found what he had come looking for. Armor and equipment lay in a scattered heap at the side of the tunnel. Torn clothes and splotches of dried blood marked the grave of a bold individual. Most importantly, Jake found a pendant and an identification tag, both attached to a gilded chain. Upon inspecting the tag and finding a letter in the shirt pocket, Jake was able to identify the pile of items as the final end of the requester.

He had somehow made it this far, which told Jake the man had likely entered during a resting cycle when the Maedra weren’t lurking in the tunnel. Coming this far, with nowhere to run and no help to escape, was a death sentence. Jake spotted a broken lantern nearby along with some fuel in a pack the man must’ve ditched before trying to fight. Aside from the borrowed, rusted ax near the pile, however, Jake found no other weapons.

The man died still looking for his precious sword. How unfortunate. But, Jake had to give him credit. If what the wife said was true, he’d come to this place multiple times and survived those trips. Whether he’d actually entered the hole or not, Jake would never know. If he had, and if he fought with the Maedra, then Jake could assume he was an impressive warrior. It was unfortunate that Jake didn’t have a chance to hear of his story. His battles here must have been vicious.

And the world wouldn’t ever hear it either. The Maedra wouldn’t allow that.

Jake collected the pendant and tag, the letter, and a few other items that could be used to identify the man. He tucked them all into his pack and then continued into the tunnel. The number of Maedra he faced dwindled further into only packs of three or four, then down to ones and twos. Steadily revealing that either the Maedra were running out, or he was nearing his target.

Soon enough, he reached the nest itself. The tunnel opened up to a medium-size space that was shaped into a dome. The Adults were organized near the entrance to protect it, while the younger Maedra lurked near the back. There weren’t many left, maybe fifty in total, but most of them were adolescents and infantile Maedra. No Guardian-types. No Arachkin-types. No pools of rana for them to gorge on. Just dense, thick rana pouring out of what looked to be a handful of small openings in the floor. Currents of rana wafted up from beneath the surface through those natural vents, and the Maedra were feasting on it.

Without paper to draw his sigil on, Jake knelt to the floor and etched the Cleansing Spell into the very rock of the floor. Needing to cover a broad space with just one spell, Jake drew the sigil larger than typical and carved in deep valleys for lines. Then, he fed in enough mana to cover the entire space, filling the sigil. The intensity of the rana in the air required a higher tier spell to convert it to mana, and Jake needed to feed more Life Essence into the sigil if he wanted the change to last for a long period. He was nearly finished when a Maedra noticed the glowing in his direction. It screeched, alerting the rest, but it was too late.

By the time the remnants of the fully developed horde could react and rush him, Jake completed his work. He triggered the spell, converting the air from a buffet to a suffocating concoction. The sigil flared and pulsed, a bright glow expanding into the room as the raw essence of nature was forcefully converted to surface-ready fuel for life. The Maedra, unable to function without a constant intake of rana, absorbed the poison directly into their flesh and their very cores. The infants died almost instantly, their bodies collapsing in heaps as their high pitched screeches echoed into the cavern. The adolescents crumbled shortly after. The adults, capable of resisting its effects for longer, were enraged and lost all sense of control as they stampeded towards the nest entrance. A mix of rage and survival instinct.

Jake met them with magic. Neither Dwarven steel nor Elven Mithril. Stone Breakers and Fire Spears filled the air, tearing the frothing Maedra to shreds. To prove his point that he would not need them, as the Maedra would never reach him, Jake sheathed his blades and sat on his heels. The Maedra, seeing the audacity of the Human, threw themselves at him. Only to be blown aside, their flesh bags for bodies mangled and blasted into motionless chunks. A pile formed mere meters in front of Jake. An imaginary line drawn in the stone where the Maedre would never be allowed to cross again.

As the last adult Maedra fell, tripping and collapsing onto its comrades as Jake blew off its lower body, it bore witness to the very last moments of its nest’s existence. Jake held out his hands and utilized the fresh mana in the air to coat the walls of the space with explosive sigils. From floor to ceiling, he carpeted the room. The natural vents in the floor were not necessary to facilitate the ascension of rana nor would the destruction of this place disrupt the natural flow to the surface. All it would do was ensure that the Maedra would never, ever, be birthed here again.

“Fuck you.” When he finished filling the room with the explosive spells, Jake fired a single, high-velocity wind cone through the gurgling Maedra. The flesh exploded, its face blasting into hundreds of tiny pieces, and its corpse slumped over as the cone burrowed through the mana crystal.

Jake set the sigils each to their own timers, which would allow them to trigger in sync with one another. Once he’d verified the Maedra were all dead, he activated the sigils and walked away. He left the timers fairly long, allowing him to walk halfway to the surface before the ground quaked and air rushed past him. Secondary explosions rattled as some of the sigils failed to trigger on time, but he was satisfied with the racket.

Along his path, Jake occasionally left behind a cluster of explosive runes to collapse the tunnel itself. The open cavern at the end was enough for a nest, naturally, but the tunnel was also wide enough to allow a handful of Maedra to be birthed as well. Though their numbers wouldn’t blossom into anything exceptionally dangerous initially, if left alone they could still cause trouble. Knowing that possibility, Jake would not leave anything up to chance. He cleansed the tunnel as he went, then pulled the walls down all the way to the surface, burying any chance of a repeat visit.

When he reached the entrance, Jake picked through some of the corpses and recovered any adventurer tags or items he could use to identify the dead. A lot of the artifacts had been destroyed by the Maedra so there wasn’t a whole lot to pick through. He also never found that sword, but he did find something he could take from each body there. Unfortunately, some items he knew would not be enough. Which meant some of the dead would lay here forever, forgotten.

He did not offer an apology nor did he pray for them. There was nothing to be sorry for and apologizing would do nothing for the dead. Regardless of his prayers, the Gods would decide their fates. All Jake hoped for was that their deaths were quick and painless. For a slow one at the hands of the Maedra was not something he wished on anyone. As a gesture of good will, however, Jake at least gave them a proper burial. Sort of.

He collapsed the entrance of the tunnel and buried the bodies of the fallen beneath the rubble. Using earth magic, he smoothed out the surface, spread dirt and debris over the space, then doused the area in water to moisten the fresh soil. In time, nature would return. Their bodies would prove to be strong fertilizer for the new life that would grow above their forgotten grave.

To most, such an act might seem brutal and tactless. It may even seem vile in itself, a desecration of the dead or a trampling of their lives. But, what was he to do? What other choice did he have? What difference did it make now? Should he carry them one by one to the road? Drag their mangled, chewed on corpses back to the village and parade them through it? Use their deaths as some kind of sick lesson to be told? No, he would do things quietly. Leave their stories unfinished, their endings unspoken to leave an air of mystery to them. At least that way, other Adventurers could embellish and speak highly of their kin.

The Maedra had their victory. Their existence here had caused the deaths of dozens, if not more. The dead were already gone. If Jake stopped to worry about every victim of happenstance, he knew he would crumble beneath the burden of it all. Choosing to be indifferent and not letting his emotions run rampant was all he could do to keep himself from meeting a similar fate.

There was no glory in this. Jake still had work to do, and there would be countless other corpses to step over if he wanted to survive. Only the dead were lucky enough to not have to suffer anymore. He envied them in that regard. Despite that, he refused to die in such a way.

Jake let out a heavy, weary exhale, then turned away from the brown patch on the ground. His feet carried him away from the scene and he eventually found himself returning to the road. Thoughtless and relying on his feet, Jake mindlessly followed the road back towards the village. He stared at the ground, ten meters ahead of where he was walking, and droned along. One foot in front of the other, wandering back to where he could rest.

Quiet.

The forest was still and silent. As if holding its breath.

Jake stopped and his eyes lifted, narrowing as he scanned around him. He looked behind himself only to see that the cabin he’d passed was long gone. Ahead of him, the village was still not in sight. There were no fires from Adventurers waiting out the night in the treeline either, revealing that Jake was isolated.

Something was off.

Out of instinct, Jake drew his blades and triggered his Sensory magic. It expanded outwards, spreading across the road and reaching into the forest. He dumped mana into the spell, stretching his sight as wide as he could. His mana flow strained beneath the request, but Jake had no choice but to force it.

“You need not search for me, Apostle.” The voice caught Jake off guard. He turned around, his eyes affixing to the armored figure stepping out of the treeline.

“I couldn’t detect him?” Jake retracted his Sensory magic and clenched his teeth. How?

Mana oozed from the figure’s pitch black armor, staining the ground and killing the grass where its boots fell. It was tall, seven feet at least, and towered over everything around it. Its body was bulky and filled the gaps between the trees. Armed with a two handed sword and encased in that set of familiar black equipment, a Black Knight stepped out onto the road. A devout follower of Crux had emerged in quite the unlikely location.

However, Jake should have known better. Where there were Maedra, there would be a Knight to lead them. What he didn’t expect was for the thing to come out and meet him.

Well, at least it made searching much easier. Jake narrowed his eyes and squeezed his swords. “Cultivating them here, too, are you?”

The Knight scoffed and drew his sword, pulling the long, abyss-stained weapon out of a similarly sized scabbard. “Here? How foolish.” The Knight chortled beneath his helmet and stood tall in the center of the road. His armor, the color of a void, looked more like a dot in the center of the frozen, terrified landscape.

“We are everywhere, Apostle. Fertilizing this world in preparation for His rebirth. Nursing his children. Coddling them and seeding these lands for his inevitable campaign to reclaim what is rightfully his. Ours.” The Knight raised his hands in emphatic glee as he released a burbling laugh. “The Overworld is nigh but a stone meant to be pressed beneath our boot, pinned in fear and siphoned for all that it is worth.”

The Knight lowered his hands and pointed his sword at Jake. “And Your kind. You… Apostles… are nothing but rats to be exterminated.”

Jake quickly conjured a Stone Breaker and fired it at the Knight, aiming directly for the center of its chest in an obvious display of aggression. However, the Knight didn’t move to avoid it. Nor did he swing his blade to cut the spell in half, a move his predecessor from the Ravine might have done. Rather, his open left hand stretched forth and snatched the spell out of the air. He caught the Stone Breaker by the very tip and ceased all of its forward momentum in an instant. Then, its very fingers crushed the head of the Wind-forged spear, shattering the casing and releasing the contained air within. The gust spread in every direction harmlessly, briefly fluttering the dark purple plume on the back of the Knight’s helmet.

“You live up to your name, Apostle, but it makes no difference.” The Knight rumbled and took his battle stance, assuming a high-guard with his sword. “I will kill you and raise your head for your pathetic Gods to weep over.”

Unease tickled Jake’s neck. Though it seemed to be on the surface, this encounter wasn’t random. This Knight knew far more information about Jake then he should have. He knew of Jake’s fighting in the Ravine, countered his Sensory Magic somehow, and was strong enough to physically stop his Stone Breaker. While the spell certainly wasn’t the strongest in Jake’s arsenal, its punching power wasn’t anything to scoff at, and the Knight hadn’t even budged when he stopped it. The knowledge in the Ravine wasn’t a secret but Jake hadn’t let any Maedra survive, so where did he get his information?

“If you will not come to me, then I will come to you!” The Knight, impatient, stomped forward and bull rushed. His armor proved to be lighter than expected as he crossed the distance in barely four broad steps.

Jake didn’t move to dodge him or flee, however. Rather, Jake stomped forward and dumped mana into the floor. He cracked the ground, tore away the stable surface, and crumbled the dirt beneath the Knight’s feet. The powerful downward swing lost both angle and speed as the Knight’s foot crushed the cracked ground and fell through it. The blade whiffed as Jake turned to the right and the Knight was forced to catch himself. He stepped hard with his right foot, planted it firmly, then twisted and swung horizontally at Jake.

The blade met air once more as Jake calmly took a step back, avoiding the swing.

The Knight recovered and took a wide stance, raising the blade over his shoulder as he readied himself once more. “You dare mock me, Apostle?”

Jake huffed. “Hardly.” Without blinking, Jake ignited the ground around the Knight. The very mana he’d pooled for Rock magic was swiftly converted into fuel for Fire magic, and the Knight’s entire body was encased in orange heat.

The Knight, seemingly unaffected by the attack, lunged out of the flame and twisted his body, preparing to swing. Except, the space where Jake had been standing was empty. The wall of fire had just briefly blinded him and Jake utilized it to move.

A heavy pressure encased the Knight and the ground cracked beneath his feet as he found himself anchored in place. The Knight grunted beneath his helmet, his armor flexing and groaning as the very air around him condensed painfully in on him. His sword clanged against his shoulder, pinned in place as the air shrank and squeezed down. Jake now stood to his right, blades stabbed into the ground and hands positioned as if holding an imaginary box between them.

“Ho…” The Knight exhaled and looked to his right with his eyes, unable to turn his head. “Interesting magic, Apostle…” He forced the words out, straining to speak as Jake’s hands firmly compressed toward one another. However, the Knight remained standing. His armor glistened, the black void of a body resisting the pressure bearing down on it.

The Knight moved slowly, dragging the blade off his shoulder with a painfully loud screeching noise as the edge sparked over his armor. He dropped it to the ground, releasing it and letting it fall to the earth. As the pressure intensified and Jake’s hands closed in, the Knight closed his hands into fists and began to curl inwards. He took in a long, deep breath, groaning and rumbling angrily as he did. Power accumulated in his core, his fingers began to glisten, and purple mana leaked from the crevices and cracks in his armor. Slowly, his body was coated in the vile power, and Jake found himself unable to squeeze down any further.

Then, with immense force, the Knight’s arms tore outwards, ripping the air with brute strength. The mana coating its armor exploded outwards, shattering the Condensing Box, and blew away the cage rooting him in place. Jake’s hands were forced apart and his own mana scattered. The spell was broken.

“Fuck-” Jake grabbed his swords and moved to retreat, but the Knight was quick to recover. Too quick.

The Knight didn’t bother with his own sword. He lunged and grabbed Jake by the throat before the man could escape from his reach. The massive armored paw gripped onto the Human’s neck, yanking the puny figure off the ground and lifted him off his feet, dangling him in the air. Forced to look skyward, Jake grit his teeth and glared down at the metal hand holding him. His neck flexed and he sucked in air through his nose. The hand was fully clutching his neck, but it didn’t constrict his throat so he wouldn’t suffocate.

“You call yourself a Mage, Apostle? Pathetic. Horribly pathetic. To think, a comrade of mine fell to you.” The Knight taunted, gurgling another laugh as a heavy fist buried itself in Jake’s stomach.

Jake hacked, spitting up saliva and all of the air in his lungs as it was forced out of him. Another fist forced him to vomit as the pressure crushed his stomach. The Knight swung twice more for additional effect, but Jake only winced, wheezed, and coughed every time as the pain thundered through his frame. His organs were getting crushed with every blow, forcing him to react quickly with his magic to keep himself from breaking.

The Knight watched Jake’s recovery with every strike. Then, he hummed as if amused. “At least your recovery ability meets expectations. Killing you was said to be difficult. I can only blame myself for underestimating you in that regard. But, it matters not.” The Knight twisted his wrist and then slammed Jake down to the ground, flat on his back. “Tonight you will be exterminated, Apostle.”

Jake grit his teeth, fighting back the urge to vomit again as he glared up at the knight. The black armored foe mounted him and raised a heavy fist, threatening to crush his skull beneath the next blow. A slight smile crossed his face as the Spell Blade still being firmly gripped in his right hand tilted up. Its tip knocked against the Knight’s elbow joint.

“Got you,” Jake wheezed.

A large explosive sigil appeared on the Knight’s armor, then dozens more spread across its arm. The Knight’s red eyes twisted to look but before he could react, they flared to life as Jake triggered them all at once. The armor, lacking the layer of mana that had protected it, blasted apart as the sigils tore through the metal. The Knight didn’t make a sound as he tore away, backing off as its left arm was blown to pieces.

Jake shut his eyes and turned his head away, but shrapnel still stabbed into him as the metal scattered. The wounds burned and blood stained his body. His face was lacerated in several places as small pieces cut at his cheeks, nose, and forehead. However, they were wounds he could fix. As the Knight backed off and the explosions subsided, Jake immediately went to work fixing the wounds and purged the metal shards now stuck in his skin.

The Knight stood with its left arm broken from the shoulder down. Black mana oozed from the wound, working to repair the damage to the Knight’s body. Yet, the recovery speed of the Knight was pitiable compared to Jake’s. Jake’s wounds would be closed up in a few breaths. The Knight’s injury could take hours to deal with.

The Knight was unshaken by the development. He stood tall and stoic, staring down at Jake through the visor of his helmet. “Resilient and cunning. I underestimated not just your recovery but your stalwart refusal to die. How unfortunate.” The Knight snarled and curled his right hand into a fist. “Killing you was necessary. Now, it will be a pleasure.”

Jake remained neutral with his stance. He spit a mixed mouthful of bile, spit, and blood off to this right. “You talk too much.”

The air ignited with flame as he conjured a powerful concoction of magic. A Stone Breaker spell paired with the explosive sigils of his Fire element. The sigils burned into the Stone Breaker’s spearhead, coating the spell in a dangerous armor-piercing element geared specifically to shatter the Knight’s armor. Even if the Knight caught the spell, it would do enough. However, Jake couldn’t just throw the thing at the target.

The Knight prepared a thick layer of mana of his body, coating his armor with the purple essence to create a protective barrier. Similar to that of Jake’s Dragon Skin, but it lacked strength. The layer only ensured Jake’s spell wouldn’t punch directly through.

Jake sheathed his blades, resorting instead to his fists. The blades would do nothing against the metal of the Knight’s body and there was no flesh to cut. Knowing that, Jake assumed a low stance and took in a steadied breath. Mana flowed to the tips of his fingers as his right foot swept over the ground, craving a crescent in the ground. Exhaling, fire bristled at his palms, the mana sparking and igniting as he etched explosive runes into his palms.

Steadying his mana flow, Jake surged forward. He gripped his right hand into a fist and slammed it forward, connecting with the Knight’s armored hand in a fierce collision. The mana in his palm ignited, and fire burst out of his knuckles as flesh met steel. The Knight’s hand bounced backwards and Jake’s left hand swung upwards. Open palmed, Jake slapped the Knight’s forearm. The rune flared. The mana rushed outwards. An explosion rocked the air and the purple mana ebbed beneath the pressure.

The Knight grunted and twisted, throwing a knee toward Jake's head. Jake slipped right and slapped the metal leg, twice. Two explosions blew apart the mana he touched and the purple veil receded from the impact points. Another fist screamed past Jake’s face. He turned and smacked the tricep, the bicep, and the Knight’s ribcage. Pivoting, Jake spun backwards and created a gap between himself and the Knight.

The Knight collected himself, set his feet, and then lunged at the man. He cocked his right elbow back and swung downward in a decisive punch. Jake raised his left arm and stepped in the same direction, smacking the hand aside and using the explosive power to blow the hand away. His right hand then shot forward as he grabbed the Knight’s helm. His eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched as he jumped, flipping his feet up so he could snatch the helmet with both hands.

Pouring mana into his palms, Jake triggered the explosive runes in his hands over and over and over and over. Again and again. The Knight staggered and grabbed Jake’s wrist, screaming beneath his visor as the explosions rocked through his armored visor. Unable to take it anymore, the Knight flailed into the air until he found Jake’s chest. He snatched the man’s body and tore Jake off him, throwing Jake aside. When his vision cleared, the spell from before bore down on him.

The spell smashed through the top of his helmet, angled straight down like a hammer falling on an anvil. It pierced through the exposed helmet, the explosive sigils blasted apart the Knight’s helm as the Stone Breaker burrowed into the belly of the armor. Filling the hole, two Spears of flame, coated in lines of explosive runes and full sigils with excessive power, dropped into the suit of armor. The explosions rocked the Knight’s insides and scattered the mana within, shattering the mana crystal concealed within the Knight’s core.

The armor fell to its knees then toppled over, motionless. The black haze contained within spilled outward before dissolving into the air.

“Fucking hate those things…” Jake grumbled, coughing again as his body ached. That final toss had sent him careening into a tree and he sat against it, in pain. Even with the numbing effects of his Light magic, Jake’s body pleaded for time to rest and recover. His wounds burned. His consciousness swam as drifting starts filled his vision. His stomach ached as his throat burned from the acidic taste of projected bile. His lungs screamed and he couldn’t help but wheezed with every breath, struggling to inhale precious oxygen.

This was his second encounter with a Knight. Though bigger and brawnier, the Knight’s armor was its own enemy. Along with their bold combat tactics and lack of strategic pause, once more the Knight proved itself to be bullheaded. At least the one from the Ravine had some sense of tact. The Ravine’s Knight fought calmly and relied on its sword. This one was far too direct and underestimated Jake’s creativity. If it weren’t for the Knight’s strength, Jake probably could have got out unscathed.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the result. Jake underestimated the Knight’s speed. That large body proved to be nothing but an inflated husk of a body. He should’ve been more careful. Though covered in their armor, Knights were just creations of mana. Nothing else. They didn’t have physical bodies. The armor was just to keep the crystals from being exposed and to provide a shape for them to take. Canisters of life, essentially. Of course the armor would hardly impede them.

“Dammit,” Jake grunted and slowly forced himself to stand. He glared over at the armor and then walked over to verify that it was actually dead. He kicked over the breastplate to knock loose the shards of the mana crystal hidden instead, then crushed them to dust with some Rock magic.

A brief encounter. One that Jake hadn’t been prepared for but should have been ready to overcome. He’d let himself get lazy with his magic lately, he knew that, and this was the result of his complacency. A fight that was more difficult than it needed to be. On top of that, the Knight somehow slipped through his detection. The reason for that was a mystery that he would need to research. But, the appearance of the Knight did confirm his assumed rule that if there were Maedra, there would be a Knight commanding them. It was something he’d thought up after his fighting in the Ravine.

The Knights were the direct puppets of Crux. They issued orders to the Maedra and conducted operations in His name. After coming across the Knight in the Ravine, Jake made the assumption and was hoping to confirm it through research. While this didn’t count as research, it was revealing enough. The Maedra existed on a wide scale across the Overworld and the Knights along with them. As actors of Crux and executors of his will, they would bring plenty of terror with them should they emerge from their holes. Snuffing them out in his travels would be key to keeping Crux suppressed. However, Jake could deduce one more piece of information from the Knight’s appearance here. Two, actually.

The first was the obvious. The Knights were working towards developing Crux’s forces in anticipation for his eventual return, whenever that would be. Thus, they would constantly work to seek out holes for the Maedra to be birthed and then cultivate the hordes to prepare them for the future war. They likely wouldn’t attack settlements nearby and would keep to the holes in the ground to avoid detection, knowing full well any exposure or attention would cause an Apostle to be sent their way. Or worse, a Guardian.

The second, however, would require additional investigation but Jake had a feeling he was right in his hypothesis. Someone out there was actively working to resurrect Crux. Who it was, how they planned to do it, and their available resources were all mysteries. However, Jake did chalk these two encounters up to convenience and random circumstance. Both Knights were somehow assured that Crux would be coming and they were actively working to prepare forces for that moment. The Maedra were being bred and cultivated for a war that was expected to happen soon, and the Knights had both fought Jake with the expectation that defeating him would assist in that development. The fact that the Knight had come out to fight Jake of his own accord was enough to attest to it.

The Apostles weren’t the only ones hunting. Not anymore. Crux’s forces were moving beneath the surface and they weren’t going to stay in the dark forever.

Jake kicked the armor and let out a tired breath.

Looks like he was going to have to spend a lot of his evenings staring at books again.

“Dammit,” he repeated, kicking the armor again a few times before forcing himself to turn away.

How annoying.