Ahead, an unknown settlement appeared. Among a few dilapidated, half-ruined houses, creatures identical to the one that had attacked him sat around a large fire. Long dark hair, gray clothes. Gloomy, evil faces on abnormally long skulls. Many bones lay scattered on the ground around them.
They noticed the Cursed, raised their swords and iron rods, and silently, ominously, rushed toward him. One, two, three… About twenty figures were charging at him. All of them seemed to be immortal.
The Cursed turned and ran in the opposite direction — toward where a tall tower could be seen.
The group of horrific, diseased creatures was racing after him.
The tower's dark doorway loomed ahead. There was no door. In front of the threshold lay wooden splinters of what might once have been one.
The Cursed rushed inside. A dark interior with a strange, acrid smell. Faint black inscriptions emerged from the darkness on the walls. A stone staircase led upward.
The mad creatures stopped outside, a few feet short of the entrance. They stared fearfully into the tower's darkness, groaning and breathing heavily. But they did not come any closer. Some strange force was keeping them from entering the tower.
Satisfied that the creatures were no longer attempting anything, the Cursed climbed the stone staircase.
It led him into an old room with time-cracked walls. Ancient, ruined furniture. Countless sheets of paper, crumbled by age. On some of them, mysterious symbols and signs could still be made out, similar to those on the walls below. An old metal grinder, rusted but still functional, stood in a dark corner. A handle on its side turned the mechanism inside.
In one window, a forest came into view; in the other, the settlement of cannibals. Among the old houses, the fire still burned. But there was no one there. The cannibals had positioned themselves at the entrance to the tower. They sat on the grass, placing their swords and iron rods beside them, and waited motionless, patiently, for his appearance. They had no intention of leaving. He realized that they intended to decide his fate right there. Time did not concern them.
After a while, the fire in the settlement went out, yet the sick creatures still lingered by the tower, waiting for him.
But what was this? A bright light was rising from the spot where the fire had been. It was not flames. Something was there, emitting a strong glow.
The Cursed climbed out through the sill of the second window, the one facing the forest, and began to descend the wall. It was the wall opposite the entrance, and the cannibals could not see him. Gripping the ledges worn away by time, the hero made his way down and rushed toward the forest.
Moving through the woods, remaining unseen by the creatures, he entered the settlement from the other side. He approached the ashes. Above them, a charred, partially eaten body hung on a spit. Human. Among the bones, not far from the fire pit, the glow was rising. He pushed the bones aside. The ground in one spot was fresh, as if someone had recently been digging there. It yielded easily to his hands. He did not have to dig for long. Almost at the surface lay the source of the glow. They were magical crystals. He stared at them. Their light seeped into his eyes and mind. Suddenly, he understood what had to be done.
The Cursed took the crystals and returned to the tower through the forest.
He threw the stones into the old crusher by the wall and began to turn its handle. At first, the old mechanism turned with noticeable resistance, then spun more and more easily and smoothly. Inside, the crystals cracked like the bones of ancient monsters. Wild groans and howls rose from outside.
When the Cursed stepped back outside, all the cannibals lay dead on the ground. This time, for good.