The thick fog clung to every gravestone, every withered tree like a cold burial shroud, pressing visibility down to a disturbingly narrow ten meters.
The path beneath their feet grew hazy, the cracks between the paving stones seeping with a damp, chilling breath.
All was silent. Even the wind had vanished. Only their own heartbeats, breathing, and the faint sounds of boots treading on slippery moss and rotting leaves remained—each noise magnified a hundredfold in the suffocating stillness.
"This welcoming ceremony is certainly… 'enthusiastic,'" Kiriya muttered under his breath, breaking the near-frozen air.
His obsidian blade tilted slightly in his grip, the tip sweeping watchfully across the rolling wall of mist ahead. "Not a single signpost in sight. Should we just knock on the nearest gravestone and say, 'Good evening'?"
"Stay sharp. Enough nonsense." Lina's voice came from his front flank, lower, steadier than his.
Her shield radiated a faint frost-mist visible to the naked eye, freezing the encroaching moisture into tiny crystals that fell like snow. "The concentration of negative energy particles in the air is rising abnormally… This is more than a simple haunting."
The moment she finished speaking, it came: a sound so faint it was almost imaginary—like countless voices whispering through layers of thick cotton—suddenly worming its way into their ears.
The whispers flitted about, impossible to pinpoint, sometimes brushing right against their eardrums, sometimes welling up from deep beneath the earth. The words were indistinguishable, but the tone was filled with malice, agony, and an inhuman coldness.
Kiriya's brow knit instantly—not from fear, but from disgust. "…So this is the 'whispering' the old man mentioned?
What a thoroughly unpleasant background track." He gave his head a sharp shake, trying to drive away the buzzing gnawing at his mind.
Lina slowed for just a fraction of a second, her sharper senses detecting more. "It's not just sound… there's faint psychic interference woven into it. Focus. Don't let it erode your judgment." Frost gathered more heavily around her form, as if weaving an unseen barrier.
They pressed deeper. The gravestones grew older, more broken, many cracked and tilted, overrun by deep green moss and strange, faintly phosphorescent vines that pulsed eerily in the fog. The mist itself seemed to thicken.
Suddenly, Kiriya stopped dead, throwing an arm out to block Lina. "Wait!"
She halted immediately, shield raising slightly in a defensive stance. "What is it?"
Kiriya didn't answer with words. Instead, his blade angled toward a half-collapsed tombstone ahead, one carved long ago with a weather-worn angel.
The angel's face had eroded beyond recognition, but at the base, in its shadow, something darker than the fog itself writhed faintly.
The two held their breath. A glance was exchanged. Without speaking, they moved apart, circling in from opposite flanks.
And in that moment, the whispers grew clearer, as if their source was right there, inside that darkness.
When they drew within five meters of the stone, the shadow suddenly stood.
It wasn't a shadow at all—it was a twisted, humanoid form, a mass of viscous black sludge and grave-rot, pieced together like a grotesque mockery of life. It had no proper face, only two hollow sockets blazing with ghostly green light.
It let out a wet, choking gurgle, swinging distorted limbs that dripped foul slime, and lurched straight toward Kiriya.
[ Cursed Grave Sludge Horror ]
[ LV.28 ]
"Tch. Absolutely devoid of aesthetic sense," Kiriya clicked his tongue, tone dripping with disdain, though his movements were lightning-swift. He didn't meet the charge head-on, but instead slid backward like a phantom, narrowly evading the stinking rush.
Almost at the very moment Kiriya pulled back, Lina moved.
"Freeze!" Her cold, ringing shout cut through the chaos.
Crack—!
But instead of bracing behind her shield, Lina twisted her wrist. The longsword in her grip—gleaming with biting frost—thrust forward in a sudden motion.
"Frost Thrust!"
With her icy command, the blade didn't strike the slime's body. Instead, the tip drove precisely into the slick ground just before it.
Shhhhk—!
From the point of impact, a surge of frigid, azure energy erupted outward in an instant.
Jagged spikes of ice burst forth, impaling and freezing the slime's feet along with a wide swath of the ground around it, locking the creature firmly in place.
The bitter frost spread rapidly upward from its muddy limbs, encasing them in a sheath of ice. Its movements slowed to a crawl, forcing a muffled, furious roar from its twisted maw.
"Finish it!" Lina ordered curtly, frost energy pouring steadily from her shield.
"On it!" Kiriya's form blurred, melting into the fog. A heartbeat later, he was at the monster's flank, his blade wreathed in shadow. "Phantom Thrust!"
The obsidian sword flashed forward in a merciless thrust, piercing the creature's shifting core.
–1220!
The number floated up—not high, but the obsidian blade carried some disrupting force, unraveling its structure, forcing a scream from its foul throat.
That scream, however, was a signal.
Around them, in the choking fog, countless ghostly green lights began to flicker to life. Wet crawling, shuffling footsteps echoed from every side.
More sludge horrors, dragging themselves from behind tombstones and clawed-out graves, emerged into view, closing in with dreadful slowness.
"Looks like 'they' really don't care for guests." Kiriya sighed sharply, retreating until his back pressed against Lina's, obsidian sword raised, the glowing runes along its blade flaring fiercely.
"Numbers are high, but they're slow. Not a major threat—as long as we avoid being surrounded." Lina's voice remained cool, decisive. "AOE sweep. Time is critical. I'll control. You strike."
"Music to my ears." A grin tugged at Kiriya's lips, sharp with excitement. "Been itching to test out the new toy's crowd-clearing."
Lina wasted no words. Drawing a breath, she thrust her shield forward, frost surging like a storm. "Frost Domain!"
A torrent of ice energy erupted from her, expanding in an instant to envelop the battlefield!
The fog retreated under its force. The ground glazed into glassy ice, every sludge horror that stepped inside slowed to a crawl, moving like figures trapped in slow motion, their surfaces quickly crusting over with frost.
"Now!"
Kiriya's eyes gleamed with crimson light. Gripping his blade in one hand, shadow energy surged wildly into its edge.
"Phantom Slash!"
His sword cleaved out in a brutal arc. A massive half-moon of dark crimson energy roared forth—not merely physical force, but laced with tearing, burning essence!
The wave cut through the frozen horrors like butter, damage numbers erupting in sequence:–1162!
–1148!
–1190!
Screams split the air. Slowed by frost, weakened by the debuff, the monsters crumbled beneath the assault, their bodies unraveling into steaming sludge that splattered across the ice, then seeped back into the earth.
All that remained were faintly glowing, corrupted [ Decayed Cores ].
For now, the immediate threat was gone.
The frost domain faded, the cold still clinging, but the whispers… the whispers grew sharper, more venomous, no longer just noise, but a voice with intent—malice gnawing directly at the mind.
And in the far mist, a figure stirred. A flicker of pale, spectral light—draped in shredded, ancient funeral garb—floated briefly into view.
Empty sockets turned upon them, watching, before vanishing behind the looming bulk of a family crypt.
Kiriya flicked his blade, as though shaking off filth that wasn't there.
His eyes narrowed, his expression suddenly grave. "So, the 'whispers' and the 'shadows'… they're the real bosses. These piles of sludge were just the appetizer."
Lina nodded once, gaze like ice as it fixed on the mausoleum. "We follow. The answer lies near that tomb."
She hesitated a fraction, then added, "Be careful. The true battle hasn't even begun."
Once more, the two pressed forward, one leading, the other watching their flank, steps more deliberate, into the deepest part of the graveyard—where the mist was thickest, and the malice darkest.
Beneath their feet, the ice slowly melted into the muck, hissing softly as it seeped into the mire.