Smoke curled from the blackened fissure between the beast's sightless eyes, its grotesque form slumped in the mud like a blasphemy against the forest's natural order. The air reeked of seared fur, ozone, and the coppery tang of too much blood Rox's, Arthur's, Artemis's own, mingling with the beast's dark ichor. Pain radiated from Artemis's ribs, his thigh, his blistered palm, a symphony of agony held at bay only by the cold hum of his overtaxed diamond core. He lay sprawled on the frozen-then-thawed earth, staring at the canopy where twilight bled into emerald gloom. Every breath tasted like wet ash and failure.
A shadow fell over him Rox, face pale as salt-bleached driftwood beneath the grime, cradling his severed arm. The stump was a ragged horror, hastily bound with torn cloth already saturated crimson. Yet his silverstone eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the carcass. A low, rasping sound escaped him part groan, part grim chuckle.
"Wow," Rox said as he picked up his severed hand. "That was quite the fight boy." Arthur limped closer, clutching his slashed forearm. Sweat plastered his yellow hair to his forehead, mixing with dirt and blood. He sank heavily beside Artemis.
"What are you saying?" Arthur grinned weakly, the expression strained by pain. "My eyes could barely keep up." He nudged Artemis's shoulder. "And what exactly was that stuff you shot in the end?" Artemis forced himself upright, gritting his teeth against the protest of shattered ribs. He held up his blistered palm. "It was a thermal attack," he managed, voice rough. "I drew the heat from my surrounding and condensed it in my palm." Arthur stared at the smoking wound between the beast's eyes, then back at Artemis's ruined hand. "Hmmm! I don't quite get it but that was really cool." Rox's gaze snapped toward the treeline, his posture rigid. The dripping silence of the forest felt heavier now watchful. "Enough chit chat," he growled, shoving the severed arm roughly into his belt pouch. "We need to inform the authorities of the Verdamnis." "Verdamnis?" Artemis and Arthur said together.
Artemis pushed himself fully to his feet. The phantom the silent, grey watcher flickered in his mind. It saw. It knows. "Rox what do you know?" he pressed, voice low.
Rox's jaw tightened. He scanned the shadows beneath the colossal ironbarks. "I will tell you when we get home," he hissed. "There might be more of them."
Them. Not it. Them. Artemis's blood ran colder than the forest pool. He met Arthur's wide eyes. "Yeah," he agreed grimly.
No more words. Rox set a punishing pace toward the forest's edge. Arthur fell in behind, knuckles clicking a frantic rhythm against his thigh. Artemis brought up the rear, every step a lance of pain as he was gradually healing they made their way out of the forest.
***
As their wounds gradually began to heal Artemis's being the fastest, and Rox's as well, except for his severed arm, which remained a grievous, clearly painful loss they pressed on. Arthur's injuries, though the least severe, still made him wince with every other step. The journey back was a silent, painful trudge through the deepening shadows of the forest, each man locked in his own world of pain and grim contemplation.
The oppressive canopy finally began to thin, the air lightening from a claustrophobic green gloom to the soft, hazy violet of late evening. The familiar, salt-tinged breeze of Ocela replaced the forest's muggy breath, a welcome relief that did little to ease the tension coiled in their shoulders. They moved through the quiet, cobbled streets of the town, where lamplighters were just beginning their rounds, casting long, dancing shadows that did nothing to dispel the chill that had settled in their bones. They went straight to Rox's house, the stone building a dark, silent silhouette against the twilight sky.
Inside, the familiar scent of brine, old wood, and dried fish offered a scant comfort. Rox moved with a stiff, determined urgency, ignoring the pallet in the corner that usually served as his bed. He went to a heavy oak chest, unlocked it with a key from a chain around his neck, and brought out a rectangular copper box. It was the size of the surface of a small wooden stool, its metal surface etched with fine, swirling patterns that were worn smooth in places. Several thin, brass antennas protruded from the front, and a series of chunky rubber buttons, their surfaces dimpled from long use, were set into the top.
"What is that?" Arthur whispered into Artemis's ear, his voice hushed in the quiet of the room.
"Haven't you seen it in the pagoda?" Artemis replied, his own voice low. "It's a device called a dektis; it is used in communicating over long distances. I am quite shocked that he has one, though. Just one of these costs ć5,000 cowry, and that's enough to feed an average family of six well for a year."
"If he has something like this yet he doesn't pay us more money," Arthur grimaced, the familiar complaint a shaky attempt to return to normalcy. "We better ask for higher pay for the remaining time we're here."
Rox ignored them, his focus entirely on the device. He pressed a sequence of buttons, and a low, electric hum filled the room, accompanied by a faint, orange glow from a glass panel on the box's face. He cleared his throat, his voice taking on a formal, gravelly tone he hadn't used in years.
"Retired Silver Colonel Rox ul de Caen, requesting access to the Royal Bureau. Entry code four-three-three."
A brief crackle of static was followed by a woman's voice, tinny and distant from the speaker. "Please hold." There was a click, then a new voice, male and slightly deeper. "Retired Silver Colonel Rox ul de Caen, you're speaking with Bronze Sergeant Milton Coverk. Please state the reason for your call."
"I wanted to notify the bureau of the possible existence of a possible Verdamnis."
"Are you certain of this?" Milton asked, the tinny voice now carrying a distinct hint of unease.
"Positive. As one was killed under my supervision. Though I am not certain of the existence of another, the possibility cannot be ruled out."
"Okay. I will notify the higher-ups. Please have a full report ready in case of the bureau's arrival."
"Noted." Rox said, his finger stabbing down on a prominent red button on the dektis to end the conversation. The hum died, and the orange light faded, plunging the room back into a silence that now felt charged and heavy.
"'Ul de Caen.' That doesn't easily roll off your tongue, does it?" Arthur said, breaking the quiet.
"I always wondered what his full name was, but I wasn't expecting this," Artemis smiled, a faint, weary expression.
"Now tell us what a Verdamnis is," Artemis pressed, his tone turning serious.
Rox let out a long, weary sigh, the lines on his face seeming to deepen in the dim light. He walked into his small, cluttered kitchen, the floorboards creaking under his weight, and picked up a cloth bundle, unwrapping it to reveal some hard journey bread and dried meat, which he offered to them before taking a piece for himself. He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze distant, looking through the grimy window into the darkening night.
"Ok, fine. So as you know, animals only have three tiers: Silverstone, Brontide, Fleshborn. But about 3,000 years ago, the first anomaly was found in a cave in the Vulcaris Republic. It was a snake with gold teeth, eyes like crimson, and grey scales. It's breath was… the size of an average person, extending over seven kilometers." Rox took a bite of the tough bread, chewing slowly as if the memory itself was difficult to digest. "Three adventurers were exploring the area when they ran into it. Two were killed, while one escaped to report. So, elite soldiers were sent to kill it. For some time, there was no case like that, till two appeared in Battle State Mona—two monkeys with gold teeth. And it appeared continually over the years with no discernible pattern."
"Wait, if this is not new, why don't we know about it?" Arthur asked, his food forgotten in his hand.
"To prevent panic, the news was never released to the public. It was classified, for military and high-noble eyes only."
A cold knot tightened in Artemis's stomach. "Were there similar sightings of humanoids with a similar description?"
Rox's head snapped up, his eyes sharp and focused entirely on Artemis now. "What? None that I know of. Why do you ask?"
"Well..." Artemis began, the memory of the grey wather crystal clear and chilling. "I think I may have met one."
"WHAT?!" both Rox and Arthur said in unison, their voices overlapping in shocked harmony.
"Where? When?" Rox asked, his voice low and urgent, almost aggressive in its intensity.
"After my fight with the beast," Artemis clarified, his own voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I saw it for a brief second before it... disappeared without a trace. It didn't do anything; it was like it simply was observing."
Rox slumped back against the wall as if pushed, a deeply puzzled look settling on his face. He ran his hand over his short-cropped hair. "The leading theories were pointing to mutation as the cause of the anomalies," he said slowly, each word measured. "But your discovery may have just shattered them."
"Why?" Artemis asked, the cold knot in his stomach turning to ice.
"Well, before, we thought we were just dealing with beasts," Rox explained, his gaze fixed on some terrible, invisible point in the middle of the room. "But now… that has changed. A humanoid entity with signs of sentience… that might make things infinitely worse."
As Rox finished explaining, his words landed like a hammer blow in the quiet room. The full, horrifying weight of what that phantom represented not a mindless monster, but an intelligent, observing presence dawned on them, saturating the air with a new and profound kind of dread.