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Chapter 77: Beneath the Shrouded Mist

  “Really? I can’t even finish my mission in peace? …But I can’t just ignore someone screaming,” Veil muttered, scanning the trees for the source of the voice.

  The cries echoed through the forest, fading into faint, broken sobs. Veil took a few steps forward, then stopped, uncertainty gripping him.

  “What should I do? If I go get help, it’ll be too late. I can’t just pretend I didn’t hear that… If it’s serious, I have to go now,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

  But before he could make up his mind—before his legs could decide whether to move or stay frozen—a new sound tore through the silence. This one wasn’t human. It was a growl, sharp and guttural, like something wild baring its teeth.

  Veil spun around and sprinted toward the forest, pulling his dagger from his satchel. He didn’t know why, but he felt instinctively that his sword wasn’t the right weapon for this fight. Branches cracked underfoot as he rushed through the trees, the cries now gone, replaced by eerie stillness.

  He reached a shadowed clearing—and stopped short.

  A young woman lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious. Her cloak fluttered weakly in the wind, and a long, pale pink tail twitched beside her. Her catlike ears drooped low, and her matching pink hair was spread in messy strands across the dirt, as though she’d fallen hard.

  Veil looked around, but saw no sign of a threat. He approached cautiously. An unsheathed sword lay a few meters away from her.

  He knelt down and slid a hand beneath her head, lifting it gently. Her breathing was steady, and aside from a small cut on her forehead, she seemed mostly unharmed.

  Supporting her carefully, he tapped her cheek to wake her. She stirred, eyes fluttering open—then suddenly recoiled, startled to find herself in his arms. Blinking rapidly, she shook her head to clear it, then finally focused on him.

  “Are you all right? I… I mean you no harm. I heard someone screaming and found you unconscious here,” Veil explained as he rose to his feet.

  But the young woman wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her wide eyes were fixed on something behind him. Her pupils trembled. Slowly, she began to back away, fumbling for her weapon.

  Veil turned—and froze.

  A beast loomed among the trees. It resembled the Cryolupes he’d fought before, but this one was larger—much larger—and its entire body was wreathed in dark, smoky vapors. Blood dripped from its fangs, and its eyes burned with a sickly red light that radiated pure malice. Its fur stood on end, bristling as if every strand was alive with fury.

  To this creature, they weren’t enemies. They were prey.

  But what made Veil’s stomach twist wasn’t the blood, or the size—it was the eye.

  A third eye had opened just above its snout, vertically aligned between the other two, reaching nearly up to its ears. It gleamed with a strange, pulsing light, and the air around it seemed to hum with dark energy.

  Veil could feel its breath, hot and foul, reeking of rot and iron. His nose wrinkled as the beast’s paw thudded against the ground in a steady rhythm, its gaze locked onto him, studying every movement.

  The young woman edged closer, clutching at his arm. Veil turned to her, startled. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her breathing fast and uneven.

  “We… we have to run. That thing’s too strong. But… someone needs to distract it. It’s too fast otherwise…” she stammered, her voice breaking.

  “With the state you’re in, running isn’t an option. Stay here—I’ll handle it,” Veil said, tightening his grip on the dagger as he turned back toward the creature.

  Handle it? Brilliant, Veil. Got any other suicidal ideas while you’re at it? he thought bitterly, jaw tightening as he steadied his stance.

  Veil didn’t have time to think.

  The creature lunged—sudden, explosive—as if it could no longer stand the waiting. Acting on pure instinct, Veil shoved the woman backward, the motion sending him stumbling too. The beast’s claws sliced through the air just inches from their faces before it landed heavily, its paws gouging deep marks into the soil.

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  Veil scrambled back to his feet and stepped away, deliberately making noise to draw the monster’s attention toward him and away from the woman still on the ground. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest—it was the first time he’d ever faced a creature like this without Alynia beside him.

  The beast was fast, but as it moved, Veil noticed something odd—brief pauses, like stutters in its rhythm. The black mist swirling around it took time to reform after each movement. Its eyes locked on him with savage focus, but the third one… the vertical eye above its snout twitched erratically, darting in all directions as though anticipating an unseen strike.

  “Why are you shielding yourself like that? What’s that veil for, you freakish thing…” Veil growled, resetting his stance.

  But the creature had already finished reforming its mist. It threw back its head and howled—a deep, guttural sound that made the air itself tremble.

  Then, like a curtain of ink, the dark haze spread outward, swallowing it whole. All three of its eyes closed—and it vanished inside.

  “Be careful!” the woman cried. “It can move through the fog—attack from anywhere!”

  Veil raised his hand and unleashed a blast of wind, trying to clear the black shroud, but it was too thick. The gust tore open a gap only briefly before the mist rolled back into place like a living thing.

  A flash of crimson suddenly pierced the darkness.

  Veil dove to the side—barely in time—as the monster pounced, letting out a guttural snarl. Its claws met his dagger with a screech of metal on bone, the impact jolting his arm.

  The beast landed in a patch of light filtering through the canopy. For an instant, Veil saw its paw smoke where the sunlight touched it. A distorted cry burst from its throat—half anger, half pain.

  But it didn’t retreat.

  Before the mist could reform, it charged again. This time, a viscous spray shot from its hide, splattering across Veil’s cheek. A searing pain exploded under his skin, like his blood was boiling. He hissed through his teeth, hand twitching upward on reflex—but touching it only made the burning worse.

  “Oh, come on… Does every monster here have to spit something? This is getting ridiculous,” he snarled between clenched teeth.

  The creature lunged again, jaws wide, aiming for his right leg. Veil thrust out his hand toward the ground and released another gust.

  A cloud of dust erupted, blinding the beast for an instant. It swerved, jaws snapping shut on empty air—but its flank slammed hard into Veil’s leg, sending him sprawling.

  He hit the ground and rolled several meters, grass and dirt scraping his skin. The woman gasped, a sharp cry of horror breaking from her lips.

  “I’ve really had enough of this!” Veil roared, pushing himself upright despite the throbbing pain. “If you want to play, then let’s play, you damn monster!”

  His glare hardened. The beast, off balance from its own charge, struggled to regain footing. Veil ignored the burning pain across his face, drew his sword, and channeled his mana into the blade.

  The weapon pulsed faintly with a greenish glow, vibrating with restrained energy.

  The creature bared its fangs, snapping the air in a warning—but Veil darted sideways, then drove his sword deep into its rear leg. The blade sank through muscle and sinew. The monster roared, staggering, as Veil tightened his grip on the dagger and swung back around to face it.

  He aimed for the head—one clean strike to end it—but the beast recoiled at the last moment. The wounded leg buckled, splitting open from the strain.

  Blood sprayed across the clearing, hot and dark. The creature’s agonized howl shook the forest, echoing through the trees like thunder.

  The birds scattered in a flurry, their wings beating the air hundreds of meters away.

  The creature collapsed onto its haunches, eyes closing. A faint shockwave rippled outward from its body, and a new veil of mist rose around it—thicker, heavier than before.

  Silence fell.

  Seconds passed.

  Then came a scream.

  It wasn’t an animal’s cry. It was a piercing, guttural shriek—deep and inhuman—that seemed to vibrate through Veil’s chest, freezing him in place before he could even comprehend what he was hearing.

  The fog dispersed all at once, ripped away as though by an invisible blast.

  And the creature reappeared.

  Clenched between its fangs was its own rear leg—torn clean off, the flesh mangled where Veil’s sword had pierced it, leaving only a bloody stump. Slowly, methodically, the beast began to devour the limb, its teeth crunching through bone with sickening cracks.

  When it was done, it turned its muzzle toward the stump and retched. A thick black vapor seeped from between its jaws and wrapped around the wound. The flesh writhed—then knit itself back together, the torn muscle sealing shut beneath the dark mist.

  “…You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re actually eating yourself? You disgusting freak. You just don’t quit, huh?” Veil muttered, exasperated.

  He’d had enough for one day. Still breathing hard, he strode toward where his sword was buried in the ground and yanked it free. The creature waited, crouched low, its movement clearly hampered by the damaged limb.

  Veil slipped the blade back into its sheath and pressed both palms to the earth. He took a slow breath, then crouched lower, angling his hands toward the monster before releasing another gust of wind.

  Dust and dirt erupted around them in a thick storm, obscuring everything. Using the cover, Veil dashed forward—then veered suddenly to the side, redirecting his momentum with another controlled burst of wind.

  He came up behind the beast before it could react, grabbed its tail, and vaulted onto its back.

  The creature barely had time to snarl before Veil drove his dagger straight down, the blade plunging through its skull with a wet, heavy crunch.

  The beast’s third eye snapped shut instantly. The other two dimmed, their red glow fading to gray. Its legs buckled, and it collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

  Veil wrenched his dagger free and stumbled back, watching closely for movement—but there was none. The creature lay still, the ground beneath it darkened with blood. No trace of life remained.

  He exhaled shakily and turned toward the woman—only for his vision to blur. The dagger slipped from his fingers as his knees buckled. Pain lanced through his hands and feet, sharp and burning.

  “What the—?” He tore off his glove—it wasn’t even torn. But his skin beneath was scorched, raw and blistered, the same as the burn on his cheek, only worse.

  The woman rushed to him and knelt by his side, quickly rummaging through her satchel.

  “Don’t move. I have something for the pain. Put your legs on my lap—I’ll take care of your feet too,” she said briskly, already uncorking a small brown vial.

  A putrid stench, like rotting cabbage, filled the air. Both of them grimaced as she set the vial down and removed his shoes. His feet were burned from the toes up to his ankles, the skin an angry, inflamed red.

  “How—how is that possible? My gloves, my boots—they’re fine! Where did this even come from?” Veil asked, panic rising in his voice.

  “Questions later. For now, we need to treat the burns and get back to the city. If we don’t, it’ll spread,” she replied curtly, pouring the liquid onto his wounds.

  The moment it touched his skin, Veil clenched his jaw—but as she rubbed it gently over the burns, the pain began to fade, little by little, replaced by a soothing warmth.

  But she didn’t even touch me… so where the hell did these burns come from? Veil thought, staring at his feet, the brownish salve soaking into his scorched skin. What kind of monster was that thing?

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