Chapter 39: The Weeping Marsh
The Weeping Marsh.
A fitting name for such a gods-forsaken place. The air was perpetually thick with the miasma of stagnant mud and decomposing matter, a stench so invasive it seemed to cling to the inside of one's throat. Every breath Lilia took felt like her lungs were staging a protest.
CLACK!
A rickety skeletal frame lunged from the fog. Lilia didn't even bother looking; she simply swung her hammer in a backhand arc.
The heavy steel warhammer caught the skeleton square in the forehead with a dull, heavy crunch. The yellowed skull shattered like an eggshell under a boot. Bone shards, slicked with black swamp muck, sprayed across her armor.
She didn't flinch. She was used to it.
This was her third day in the Weeping Marsh. The commission was to "investigate the cause of the increasing undead activity." She had found the answer within the first few hours.
Lizardmen and Goblins.
The two tribes were locked in a savage, endless territorial war. Every day, fresh corpses were dumped into the mire, and it didn't take long for the swamp's heavy mana to pull them back up as mindless thralls. It was an automated production line for the undead.
Lilia's personal mission was to dismantle that line. She methodically crushed every "newborn" skeleton that crawled out of the mud and sought out the mass graves to douse them in Holy Water. It was tedious, exhausting, and drained her stamina to the limit.
But Lilia relished it. With every bone she shattered, she felt a millimeter closer to her goal. The tactile sensation of the hammer's impact against calcium brought her a twisted sense of catharsis.
She stopped before a particularly foul pit containing a dozen intertwined corpses of Goblins and Lizardmen. This was the nexus of the local necromantic energy—the final target of her trip.
Carefully, she reached into the leather pouch at her waist and withdrew a small crystal vial. The liquid inside was crystal clear, emitting a faint, sanctified glow that cut through the swamp's gloom. This single vial had cost her a gold coin—enough to buy black bread for a whole year.
Just as she popped the cork to pour it out, a rustling sound erupted from the reeds on both sides. Lilia froze, her grip tightening on the hammer's handle.
She was too late.
To her left, a squad of green-skinned Goblins emerged. They were short, hideous, and armed with crude clubs and jagged stones. Their small, greedy eyes locked onto her, accompanied by high-pitched, guttural snickering.
To her right, several tall Lizardmen rose from the water. Their bodies were covered in dark green scales, their vertical pupils cold and calculating. Flicking bifurcated tongues, they leveled stone-tipped spears that glistened with swamp moisture.
She was trapped. All paths of retreat were blocked.
Careless, Lilia thought, her heart sinking. These past few days of easy hunting had dulled her edge. Kayla had taught her never to enter a danger zone without an exit strategy. She had forgotten the golden rule, and now she was the meat in a very ugly sandwich.
Lilia slowly tucked the Holy Water back into her pouch. She sized up both sides, her mind racing.
Goblins... no.
She would rather be turned into a pincushion by the Lizardmen's spears than fall into the hands of Goblins. She had heard the whispers in the Guild. For a woman, being taken alive by Goblins was a fate ten thousand times worse than death.
By comparison, the Lizardmen were almost charming. They just wanted to kill her and scavenge her metal armor and weapons. Dying at their hands was a "clean" end.
Her mind made up, Lilia's resolve hardened. She held the heavy warhammer across her chest, settling into the standard defensive stance Kayla had drilled into her.
Strangely, the three parties fell into a bizarre standoff.
The Goblins stared at Lilia, drool literally dripping into the mud. They could sense it—inside that heavy iron "can" was a living, young female human. The temptation was overwhelming, leaving them with nothing but primal, vile impulses.
However, they were wary of the Lizardmen. If they charged first, their cold-blooded neighbors would surely stab them in the back.
The Lizardmen, meanwhile, had little interest in Lilia beyond her gear. To them, the "metal can" was just a difficult piece of prey. They were far more concerned with the Goblins, who outnumbered them.
The air was thick with the heavy breathing of Goblins and the rhythmic hissing of the Lizardmen.
"GIIII—!"
Finally, a Goblin lost its battle with its own desires. With a piercing shriek, it waved its club and charged.
The balance shattered. The Goblins swarmed forward as one. Seeing the opening, the Lizardmen roared and launched their own attack from the other side, their priority clear: eliminate the meddlesome Goblins first.
The scene descended into absolute chaos.
Lilia was the eye of the storm. She didn't panic. She lowered her center of gravity and let her thick plate armor soak up the initial blows.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Goblin clubs and stones bounced off her armor like pebbles. One Goblin tried to circle around to target the gaps in her joints. Lilia timed it perfectly, spinning her body and slamming her shoulder into the creature.
CRACK!
The Goblin was sent flying like a discarded rag doll, its sternum completely caved in. On the other side, a Lizardman lunged with a stone spear aimed at her face. Lilia tilted her head; the spear scraped across her helmet, throwing a shower of sparks. Using the momentum, she stepped forward and swung her hammer upward, catching the Lizardman square under the jaw.
With a bone-deep crunch, the Lizardman's head snapped back at an impossible angle, and its massive body slumped into the muck.
This was the brutal, efficient style of combat Kayla had chosen for her.
But two hands could not fight forty. In the melee, a Goblin leaped from behind, slamming its club into the back of her head.
K-GONG—!
The impact was massive. Lilia's helmet was sent spinning into the air, tracing a long arc before splashing into the swamp. Her sweat-drenched long hair tumbled down her shoulders.
"GII! GIGIGU!"
At the sight of Lilia's face, the Goblins went into a frenzy. Their eyes glowed with a horrific red light, and their assault became manic.
Lilia's vision was clear now, but so was the danger. She smashed one leaper aside with her hammer, but through the corner of her eye, she saw a Lizardman seize the opening. It raised its spear high, aiming directly for her unprotected head.
It's over.
The thought flashed through her mind. She tried to dodge, but the heavy armor made her a fraction too slow. She could only watch as the cold, sharp point of the spear grew larger and larger in her pupils.
In that heartbeat between life and death...
A shadow, moving at a speed that defied the laws of physics, blurred past her.
SHING!
There was no thunderous boom, only the faint, wet sound of a blade parting flesh. The Lizardman about to strike froze mid-motion. A second later, its head slid cleanly from its neck. The arterial spray painted Lilia's face in a warm, copper-scented mist.
Lilia stood stunned. Before she could process what had happened, the shadow moved again.
Fast. Too fast.
All she could see were silver flashes flickering through the chaotic battlefield. With every flash, a Goblin or Lizardman head took flight. The monsters that had been so terrifying moments ago were now being harvested like wheat in a field.
In less than three breaths... the world went silent.
Only the figure remained, standing amidst a field of dismembered corpses. He casually flicked the blood from his blade with a sharp snap of his wrist.
He was a young man, appearing no older than twenty, dressed in simple traveler's garb. Hanging from his waist was a plain-looking one-handed sword.
He turned around, looking at the mud-caked and blood-splattered Lilia. "You alright?"
Lilia opened her mouth, her throat dry. "...Thank you."
The youth walked over, eyeing her oversized, heavy armor and her youthful face. "An adventurer who hasn't even hit Tier 1... what are you doing in a place like this?" He frowned. "The Weeping Marsh is a Silver-rank subjugation zone. This isn't a job for someone at your level."
"I have my reasons," Lilia managed, leaning on her hammer to steady herself.
The youth didn't press her. He extended a hand. "Leon."
Lilia hesitated, then reached out with her mud-stained hand and shook his. "Lilia."
"Well, since you're in one piece, you should head back," Leon said, turning to leave. "I need to keep moving toward the Eastern Border."
The Eastern Border!
Lilia's heart hammered. Recently, there had been only one name associated with a journey to the East—the Hero.
She blurted it out: "What are you going to the East for?"
Leon paused, looking back with a smirk. He mimicked her earlier tone: "I have my own reasons."
It was him.
Lilia felt her heart racing. This was it—the opportunity of a lifetime. "If you're going because of the Undead Scourge, please... take me with you!" She scrambled forward, her voice desperate. "I've... done some research on the undead."
The smile faded from Leon's face. He re-evaluated the girl, looking into her eyes—eyes that were burning with a very specific fire. After a moment of silence, he asked: "Survivor?"
Lilia nodded vigorously.
Leon looked at her, then at her cumbersome, heavy equipment. He seemed to be weighing the options. "Fine," he finally said.
Lilia's eyes lit up.
"However," Leon added, pointing a finger at her. "Your strength—not even being at Tier 1 yet—is... well, frankly, pathetic."
His words were blunt, devoid of any sugar-coating.
"So, until we reach the East, I'll act as your temporary teacher. After all, it would be a huge pain for me to carry a 'drag' who might get killed by a random grunt at any second."
Lilia was stunned. Looking at the blunt young man before her, she didn't feel anger. Instead, she nodded frantically.
A teacher? Not only could she go to the East to hunt the undead herself, but she would receive direct instruction from the Hero?
Hamus... are you watching over me? she thought, a silent tear tracing a path through the grime on her cheek.
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