The fire in Elder Wren's hall burned low, casting flickering light over the table where the group gathered. Steam rose from their cups, but no one seemed interested in drinking.
Marcus broke the silence first. "We can't stay here long. Garrick will expect his wagons back in Westvale by week's end."
"That's if the road doesn't kill us before then," Selene said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Two attacks in two days. Same kind of creature. That's no accident."
Lily set her cup down. "If the pattern's spreading, leaving now could mean Norhollow gets hit again. They don't have the manpower to fight it off."
"You want to play village heroes now?" Rowan asked, his arms crossed. "We're not here to solve everyone's problems. The guild isn't paying for it."
"That's not the point," Ethan said quietly.
Rowan turned on him. "Then what is the point, Black? You planning to hunt these things for free?"
Ethan held his gaze. "If you saw what it did to that farmer, and what it tried to do to us… would you still just walk away?"
The tension simmered until Elder Wren re-entered, leaning heavily on his cane. "If you're leaving, you should go at first light. But if you stay… I can offer lodging, and whatever the village can spare."
Marcus exhaled through his nose. "We'll decide by morning."
The group retired to their rooms—Ethan and Lily sharing one wall with Selene and Marcus, Rowan across the hall. The wind outside rattled the shutters, and somewhere far off, a dog barked once before going silent.
Sleep came in restless fits. Ethan dreamt of black water seeping through cracks in the earth, pooling at his feet, and whispering his name in a dozen voices.
A scream shattered the night.
Ethan's eyes snapped open.
Combat opportunity detected: potential EXP amplification.
He was already pulling on his boots when Lily burst in, bow in hand. "Something's here!"
The hallway erupted into motion—Marcus strapping on his shield, Selene chanting under her breath, Rowan grabbing his gauntlets.
By the time they reached the square, villagers were fleeing in every direction. In the dim torchlight, Ethan saw it: the same oil-slick hide, the same too-many eyes—but bigger, thicker in the shoulders, and moving with horrible speed.
It crashed into a grain store, splintering the wall, and dragged something—someone—out into the open. The victim's screams cut off in a wet sound that turned Ethan's stomach.
"Cut it off from the houses!" Marcus shouted.
Selene's fire bolt lit up the creature's face for a split second—too much mouth, too many teeth. Rowan charged from the side, his gauntlets cracking into its ribs, while Lily's arrows whistled past Ethan's ear.
Ethan sprinted in low, sword in hand, and drove the blade up under its jaw. It shrieked, flailing its too-long arms. One backhand caught him square in the chest, sending him skidding across the dirt.
Amplification roll: 400x.
The system's voice was calm, almost smug.
"Now?!" Ethan hissed through clenched teeth. "You couldn't give me that before it hit me?"
Boost available for claim. Claim now?
"Yes!"
The world sharpened—every detail snapping into focus. He pushed to his feet, lungs burning, and charged back in. This time, his blade bit deep, shearing through black muscle until the thing collapsed in a twitching heap.
The square went still except for the villagers' ragged breathing.
Marcus lowered his shield. "We can't leave them now."
No one argued.