The morning light painted the Gothic spires of Dawn City in gold, but the farther west they went, the thinner that brightness became.
The warmth in the air gradually gave way to a faint, almost imperceptible chill and dampness.
The clamor of human voices faded, leaving only the wind wailing through the cracks of ancient buildings and the clear sound of two sets of footsteps.
Kiriya and Lina walked side by side along the gradually deserted streets. Their pace was in perfect sync—one laid-back and unhurried, the other calm and elegant.
Their utterly different temperaments somehow created a strange sense of harmony.
"To be honest," Kiriya was the first to break the silence, his gaze sweeping over a crooked gargoyle on the roadside, its surface overgrown with moss.
"Putting a cemetery inside the city—don't you think the urban planners of Dawn City have some rather peculiar tastes? Waking up to this sight in the morning isn't exactly what I'd call refreshing."
Lina's sharp eyes scanned ahead, catching sight of a narrow arched entrance descending downward. Her voice was calm as she answered:
"They say it was built to commemorate the ancient heroes who sacrificed themselves here, vowing to guard this city for all eternity. Their remains and their will fused into the earth itself, becoming part of the city's defenses."
She paused, then added, "…Though it sounds romantic, in practice, I fear it may be another matter entirely."
At the entrance hung a flickering magical lamp.
Beneath it swayed a crooked wooden sign, scrawled in dark red paint with the words 'West District Cemetery', beside a crude sword-and-shield emblem of the Adventurers' Guild.
The paint looked disturbingly like dried blood, making one's skin crawl.
Passing under the arch, the light dimmed abruptly, and the temperature seemed to drop by several degrees.
A long, moss-slick cobblestone stairway led down into an area ringed by tall, black iron fences.
The air was thick with the stench of damp soil, the moldy rot of fallen leaves, and beneath it all, a deeper, older cold—a stagnant stillness of death itself.
At the foot of the stairway stood a small, ramshackle wooden hut for the night watch, built against the wall. From its window seeped a faint, flickering glow, like candlelight.
A figure was huddled in a battered chair outside the hut, wrapped in a thick, musty blanket, showing only half a pale, withered face and a pair of eyes stretched wide with terror.
At the sound of footsteps, he jerked violently, springing up like a startled rabbit, nearly tripping over his own blanket. A harsh rasping gasp tore from his throat.
"Who?! Who's there?! D-don't come any closer!" His voice was shrill, ragged, dripping with fear.
His emaciated hand clutched a rusted lantern so tightly his knuckles turned white, as though it were his only lifeline.
"Easy, sir." Lina immediately halted, raising a hand to show no threat. Her voice softened, steady and reassuring, carrying a quiet strength that calmed the nerves.
"We mean no harm. We are adventurers. We saw the commission posted by the Guild and came to investigate."
Above the old man's head floated translucent green letters: [Night Watchman: Henry].
At the words "adventurers" and "commission," his bloodshot, clouded eyes struggled to focus, darting up and down to appraise them.
When his gaze landed on Lina's armor—clearly no ordinary equipment—and the black sword at Kiriya's waist, some flicker of life returned to him.
He exhaled a long, trembling sigh, though his body still shook uncontrollably.
"Guild… people from the Guild… y-you've finally come…" His voice still quavered, fragile as a candle guttering in the wind.
With fingers as thin and gnarled as chicken claws, he pointed to the cemetery behind him, shrouded in ashen fog. "This place… You can't stay here any longer! It's cursed! Utterly cursed! They… they're angry!"
"They?" Kiriya stepped forward, not too close, and leaned casually against a rotting fence post.
His tone sounded relaxed, but his eyes narrowed, sharp as a predator's, sweeping across the suffocatingly silent graveyard. "Take it slow, old man. What exactly is it that's so 'angry'?"
"The voices… it began with the voices…" Old Henry swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently as he forced himself to speak.
"It started three nights ago… after sundown. It wasn't the wind, and it wasn't cats yowling… it was… whispers! So many whispers, of countless people, rising from beneath the ground! You couldn't make out the words, just this endless buzzing, never stopping—like swarms of insects crawling inside your skull. It made your scalp crawl… your gut twist until you thought you'd vomit from the dread!"
He pulled the blanket tighter around himself as though chilled to the bone, speaking faster and faster, like he feared being cut off if he didn't spill it all at once:
"Then… then came the shadows! Drifting in the fog, swaying about… not walking like the living do, but floating—appearing and vanishing! I-I gathered my courage once and shone the lantern… and there it was—a pale face! The eyes were two black holes! No nose! The mouth stretched wide, grinning at me!"
A violent shudder wracked him, the last traces of blood draining from his face as if he were reliving the horror.
Lina's brow furrowed slightly. Steady as ever, she asked, "And after you reported it, the city guard didn't come to investigate?"
"They did! Of course they did!"
Old Henry suddenly burst out, his voice shooting up, torn between fear, indignation, and wounded pride.
"Two young lads, spears in hand, walked a circle through here. It wasn't even fully dark yet!
They said they saw nothing. Told me I was old, that my eyes were failing, my ears deceiving me, and that I should just rest a few days!" His expression twisted, a mixture of terror and fury.
He waved his frail arms. "But the night after they left… it got worse—far worse!"
His pupils dilated with remembered terror, and his voice dropped to a near-whisper, almost a hiss, as if afraid the graveyard itself might overhear:
"I… I saw it with my own eyes… the oldest graves, the ones on the verge of collapse… the earth had been dug up! Not by dogs or wolves—the soil was neatly piled to the side… the coffins… they'd been pushed open from the inside! Empty! Whatever was in them… was gone!"
Kiriya and Lina exchanged a look. This was far graver than the Guild's description. This was no ordinary haunting.
"And there's more… worse still…" Henry's voice cracked into a sob, tears welling from his bloodshot eyes, spilling down his withered face.
"Last night… past midnight… I heard it… fingernails scraping wood… scrrritch… scrrritch… Not from the graveyard… from my own door! Over and over… something was trying to get in! I—I peeked through the crack in the boards… and saw a hand… gray, rotting… clawing at my door!"
At that, he broke completely, collapsing into a crouch, curling into himself, whimpering like a child.
"I… I can't take it anymore… Please, oh kind and powerful adventurers… find out what's happening! I can pay more—I still have some savings left… Just make this place quiet again! Or… or at least tell me… tell me if I've truly gone mad!"
Lina stepped forward—not touching him, but her voice firm, steady, radiating conviction.
"You are not mad, Mr. Henry. The clues you've given us are invaluable. Lock your door. Stay inside. Light every lamp. Until we return, do not open the door for anyone. We will take care of this."
Like a man hearing a divine pardon, Henry nodded frantically, scrambling on hands and knees back into his hut.
The door slammed shut, bolts slammed into place, and soon the sound of chairs and tables being dragged against it could be heard.
The surroundings fell utterly silent, save for the faint fizzing of the flickering magical lamp, like the dying breath of some frail creature.
The cold mist thickened noiselessly, swallowing the outlines of nearby tombstones, until the distance was lost in a haze of gray.
[Ding! Do you accept the Night Watchman's commission: Investigate the anomaly in the West City Cemetery?]
[Mission Description: Journey deep into the West City Cemetery to investigate the truth.]
[Mission Reward: 6500 XP, 50 Silver, and one piece of rare equipment.]
Without a moment's hesitation, Kiriya and Lina accepted the quest.
Kiriya straightened, the languid nonchalance gone from his frame, replaced by the razor focus and calm of a top player entering a high-risk zone.
Lina's shield was raised, a faint frost aura condensing around her form. "Stay close," her voice had returned to the crispness of the battlefield. "Don't let those whispers distract you."
Step by step, the two advanced in perfect rhythm, deeper into the graveyard shrouded in fog and whispers.
The snap of brittle branches beneath their boots echoed unnaturally loud in the suffocating stillness. Moss-covered tombstones loomed like silent spectators, watching the two intruders.
And deep beneath the earth, something long dormant… seemed to stir, awakened at last.