It was a peaceful morning. Liliana and her entourage finished breakfast and readied themselves to continue the journey home. But the second they stepped outside the inn—
“RUN!!!”
A man’s sharp cry cut through the air, followed almost immediately by a presence that made Liliana’s hair stand on end. She braced herself as her two escorts reached for their swords. Petra clicked her tongue, eyes tense, while more screams and shouts echoed from the distance.
“It’s a swarm!”
“Run! Where are the guards?!”
Liliana’s escorts ran ahead to assess the situation, then promptly returned to her side. It took a lot to faze them, but concern was written plainly on their faces.
“There’s miasma!”
A black mist had already crept onto the inn’s grounds, drawing a low groan from Petra. Humans couldn’t withstand miasma: At best, it caused sickness; at worst, death. The poison could be countered only by light-element healing magic, and the only defenses against a monster swarm were the most advanced of light spells. Mages capable of purging miasma were rare—and without one, there was only one option.
Petra seized Liliana’s arm and ran. Liliana forced her legs to keep up, her pale-faced handmaiden close behind.
Having finally realized what was happening outside, the inn’s other guests began to run about in confusion. The mere mention of a swarm had sparked panic. Against a horde of monsters, it made no difference whether one was a noble or a commoner.
“Where are the guards?! What’s taking them so long?!”
In an instant, the peaceful town fell into chaos. The air shook with a cacophony of screams, cries for help, and desperate shouts to “make way.”
Outside the inn, Liliana sensed the direction where the miasma was thickest, and the blood drained from her face. An unnaturally dense black mist was seeping out of the forest—a threat so dire she might have feared for her life, had she not been so adept at magic. Many who had tried to flee before her had already lost the use of their legs and now trembled where they stood.
“My lady, the coach is—”
Marianne had clung to her composure just long enough to speak, but her face was ashen and her voice barely more than a whisper. Petra cut her short with a shake of her head.
“With all this miasma, the horses won’t get us far!” one of the escorts shouted, guarding the rear.
“Do you mean to have us escape on foot?!” Marianne cried.
Even in her confusion, the handmaiden kept moving. Some part of her knew that stopping would mean death. Monsters had greater speed and endurance than humans—and the miasma was faster still.
“If someone buys us time, I can teleport us out with a sigil,” Petra said, her voice low enough for only Liliana and Marianne to hear. Though she had slightly more experience than the handmaiden, it was her first time facing a swarm of this scale, and the pallor on her face betrayed concern. “I can’t bring everyone, but...I can at least manage the three of us.”
Petra was a talented mage, but it was folly to fight such a large swarm head-on. She couldn’t wield the top-level light magic needed to repel monsters and miasma, and with the grim reaper looming over them, their best chance of survival was to flee. In essence, the mage was insisting they abandon the escorts to their fate.
Liliana’s heart jarred in her chest. She had yet to abandon anyone in pursuit of her goals.
Can I save everyone if I use teleportation...?
Unlike Petra’s, Liliana’s teleportation didn’t rely on sigils—and though she’d never tested its limits, there was theoretically no restriction on how many people she could move at once. The problem was the monsters: They were an unpredictable element. She couldn’t see them now, but she could easily imagine their strength. Perhaps she could escape with Petra, Marianne, and the two escorts.
But what about the townsfolk? The local guard wouldn’t stand a chance against what was coming. Liliana could intervene, but only at the risk of revealing her ability to use magic. A wave of dread swept over her as another piercing scream rent the air.
“Noooooooooo!!!”
Without slowing her desperate retreat, Liliana glanced over her shoulder. A writhing mass of black and red made her breath catch in her throat. From the miasma emerged a throng of grotesque creatures—predators that fed on human flesh and blood and ruled the food chain through overwhelming violence. She had never seen the real thing before, and the horrific sight made her tremble.
✦ ✦ ✦
On a delivery to Hudore, a merchant and the mercenaries he had entrusted with his protection stopped in a town hemmed in by trees. Rumors of monster attacks on the highways were widespread, and he thought it best to err on the side of caution. They rented a room at an inn on the outskirts—on the opposite side of town from where Liliana and her entourage were staying—with plans to rest for the night and set out early the next morning.
Now the merchant lay buried under rubble, his innards torn out and his head ripped from his shoulders. Even in death, his face was frozen in the terror of his final moments.
The town hung thick with a sickening stench—iron mixed with brimstone—that seemed to suck the air from the lungs of anyone who breathed it in. Fire spread from the ruins of the collapsed kitchen, charring the dead. The monsters spared no one. Guest or guard, man or woman, young or old—all were ripe for the slaughter.
“Damn it!”
One of the merchant’s escorts cursed under his breath. He was putting up a good fight against the horde, using the remains of ruined stone buildings as cover. All of his fellow mercenaries were already dead, save for one.
What had once been a smooth, stone-paved road was now unrecognizable, littered with rubble and streaked with blood. Amid the choking dust and miasma, only the two mercenaries remained. Even those who had managed to flee must have been slaughtered.
“Hell of a job, this,” the first escort groused. “Should’ve asked for more money up front.”
“Really, Gildo?” asked a woman in men’s clothing, his only surviving companion. “Save your bellyaching for when we’re out of this mess.”
The two were in terrible shape—wounded all over, their clothes in tatters, stained with monster blood. The miasma had already seeped into their lungs, leaving a sharp, metallic taste on their tongues. Even the slightest movement made them dizzy, yet they remained formidable fighters all the same.
“Hey, Olga. How d’you reckon the survivor count’s looking? Wanna bet on it?”
“I don’t bet.”
“What a boring life you live.”
Gildo grinned, his front teeth sharp as fangs. Though drenched in sweat and pale as chalk, he was too proud to abandon his bravado. He clutched his side, but not even the sorry state of his insides would slow him. He steeled himself, spat out a glob of blood, and readied his sword.
“We’ve got another big one,” he muttered, honing his focus as a new presence emerged from among the monsters.
Olga narrowed her eyes, raising her sleeve to her brow to wipe away blood and sweat in one quick motion. “How many does that make now?”
“Beats me. Stopped counting ages ago.”
Between them, they had slain over a hundred monsters since the start of the swarm. The abominations weren’t increasing in number, but they certainly weren’t decreasing either.
“Oh well.” Olga’s dark-brown hair and equally dark eyes turned a luminous gold. “It’s little consolation, but we can’t ask for too much.”
“Huh. Not gonna use hallucinations this time?”
“Do you think we have time?”
“Nah.”
Changing the color of one’s hair, much less one’s eyes, was impossible—but not for Olga. Her golden tresses could put even the most vibrant blondes to shame. She would be a shocking sight if anyone saw her, which was why she normally employed a disguise, but she didn’t have the mana to spare. Thankfully, there was no one around to see her.
No one except Gildo, who remained entirely unperturbed.
After shutting down her companion’s banter, Olga began uttering an incantation in a hoarse voice, and a layer of ice formed over her sword.