[Jack's POV]
The wind shifted as we moved deeper into the graveyard, the sky getting a darker tint but not from the sun setting, but from the necrotic energy surrounding us, even if minuscule at best.
Ark stayed close beside me, his ears flicking at each creak and shift of the shadows. Despite his curiosity, I could feel the tension in the way his hand occasionally brushed mine. He was alert—his Werewolf instincts on edge.
I walked a little ahead, eyes scanning what was in front and using magic to sense everywhere else. Mana, terrain, and ambient energies.
I stopped.
Raised an arm.
Ark bumped lightly into me before freezing.
He blinked, looking up at me. "…Jack?"
I didn't answer.
My eyes were locked on a small, worn-down mausoleum tucked in the far corner of the graveyard.
In the past, it was clearly well-built, but time did its work and wore it down.
I slowly raised a finger to my lips.
Ark nodded silently, his tail low and tense behind him. We crept forward together, yet quiet.
We reached the side of the building.
I leaned gently against the cold wall and peeked in through the open door.
Inside, I could see a man.
Middle-aged. Dirty cloak. Rusted pickaxe in one hand, a crowbar in the other. He stalked toward one of the stone caskets like a man walking into a vault.
I felt Ark shift behind me, peering around the corner as well.
My eyes narrowed, then widened—then I smiled.
'That makes this easier.'
I tugged softly on Ark's shirt and began to step back.
He followed silently, confusion evident on his face.
Once we were several steps away, Ark whispered, "Should we… do something? Stop him?"
I shook my head slowly. "We don't need to."
Ark blinked. "Why not?"
I turned slightly and pointed behind him. "Because the guard dog is here."
Ark turned around and saw what I meant.
A black dog walked silently toward the building.
Its paws made no sound against the stone.
Its fur was pitch-black, brilliant yellow eyes stared forward with unsettling intelligence.
Ark tensed. "W-What kind of dog is that?"
The dog looked at us.
I raised my hand slowly, palm open.
'We mean no harm.'
The dog paused… then nodded.
It turned back to the mausoleum and the man inside.
Ark watched in stunned silence. "What's it doing?"
The dog opened its mouth.
And a blue fireball began to form in its throat.
Ark gasped. "Wha—"
Before he could finish, I turned and gently grabbed him, spinning him around and covering his ears.
"Don't listen," I whispered. "And don't look."
*BOOOMPH.*
The fireball launched.
I didn't need to see it hit.
I heard the scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH—!!"
They lasted only a few seconds.
Then silence.
Then the soft hiss of burning flesh—yet no smell.
Then…
Nothing.
The light faded.
I lowered my hands from Ark's ears.
He looked up at me, uncertain.
"…Is he…?"
He turned to the mausoleum and paused.
No sound.
No movement.
His eyes widened slightly, realization dawning.
He paled.
"…He's dead," he whispered.
He took a step back, his tail twitching.
I gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You okay?"
Ark glanced at me, searching my face for something. "Is… is that thing going to attack us?"
I shook my head.
"That's a Church Grim. It's sort of a guardian spirit. It protects graveyards from robbers and desecrators. It won't hurt us. It only defends the rest of the dead."
Ark looked back at the dog.
Now watching us.
Its eyes glowed faintly.
"…It really killed that man," he said, voice quiet, almost to himself.
I gave a slight nod, my hand tightening slightly on his shoulder—not forcefully, but reassuringly.
"If it's too much, you can stay back. I'll handle the rest," I said.
Ark was quiet for a long moment.
Then looked at me.
His voice trembled slightly. "I… won't run. But I am scared."
I gave him a soft smile.
"That's okay. I'm here. Nothing will happen—not with me around."
He nodded slowly, standing straighter.
I turned to the Church Grim.
"We weren't involved with that man," I said calmly. "We were actually looking for you. Just… took the opportunity and used him to find you."
The Church Grim stepped toward us, its form unnaturally silent.
It stopped a few feet away and sat.
Only then did Ark realize its size.
"…It's huge," he muttered. "It's almost as tall as me…"
The dog watched us.
Waiting.
I smiled.
"Thank you for speaking with us."
I reached into my storage ring.
Click.
I pulled out the long, pale object—weathered and heavy.
A leg bone.
Four times larger than a human's.
Ark stared.
His eyes widened—but he didn't flinch.
Didn't question it.
'Does he… think it's from an animal? Or has he seen worse in Bestia?' I thought, not really sure what Ark thought this was from, though I knew.
It was a bone from a giant I killed last year. I kept the bone to act as bait or a distraction for larger wolf creatures like direwolves, but it should work as an offering too.
(Yes, the large bone would work for direwolves.)
I put the thought aside for now.
The Grim's ears twitched as it stared at the bone.
I tilted my head. "Do you have a name?"
It shook its head once—still staring at the offering.
"This is payment," I said gently. "An offering, in exchange for answers."
The Grim nodded once.
Then stood.
"Recently," I began, "have there been any bodies buried here that were… violently murdered?"
Ark looked at me, confused.
I kept going.
"Specifically—chests ripped open. But nothing missing. No flesh eaten. Just… carved out."
Ark's eyes widened in horror.
The Grim turned and began walking.
I glanced at Ark and saw his expression.
He looked shaken—more than I expected.
I gave him an apologetic look and motioned him forward.
He hesitated.
Then followed.
We walked through the winding paths, the grave markers growing denser, the air colder.
It led us to a more recently used area, and dirt patches were visible with headstones placed on top of them.
The Grim finally stopped and motioned to some of the graves in the area.
Ark looked at them.
The Grim raised a paw and tapped the soil in front of them.
Shhhhhh—
Smoke began to rise from under its paw.
When it lifted its paw, we could see what it did.
It formed words in the dirt with fire.
My breath caught.
"…No life force?"
I whispered it.
Then dropped to one knee and extended my hand.
Spirit magic surged from my palm, washing over the graves it pointed out.
The results came instantly.
Nothing.
No trace.
No lingering energy.
No fragments of souls.
I felt cold all over.
'Not even residual aura… nothing…' I thought.
That wasn't possible.
Even after death, a body retains traces. Fragments of the soul's touch. Faint life energy like ash in a fire.
But these…
They were hollow.
Not dead.
Unmade.
Almost like it never had anything... or maybe it did, but it was ripped out.
I knew what that meant.
Even if I couldn't say it aloud yet.
The life force that once belonged to these people… was gone.
Ripped out.
My hand trembled slightly.
I stood, slowly.
The Grim watched me.
Silent.
Unmoving.
I looked at the graves again.
Then back at Ark.
He looked pale. Nervous.
But strong.
Still standing.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing good," I said to him, and turned to the Church Grim. "I will release their remains when I am able. Thank you for the help and... can I come to you again if I ever need help?"
The Church Grim nodded and began to walk back to where we just were, likely to get the bone I left for it.
"J-Jack. Is everything okay?" Ark asked.
I turned to him and gave a conflicted smile.
"I know what I have to do now... but this is worse than what I expected. We need to get back to the others now," I said.
He nodded, and we both started to walk toward the gate.
'Things are worse than I thought. I have a lot of work to do,' I said to myself as we made our way out.
~~~~~~~~
~Author's note~
A shorter chapter today, but I feel like this was enough.