Somewhere far within a small open field, there he was, lying sideways, groaning in pain. Natalak touched his left abdomen and saw blood staining both his hands and the armour. It wasn't enough to spill his guts, but it was enough to bleed him to death. Worse, the small cuts growly sting with a burning pain, and he needed to act fast.
He rummages through his bag for anything that might help. A potion of endurance was all that was left, or rather, it was the only potion he knew. No second thoughts, Natalak gulps the entire vial, and prays for a miracle to happen.
Sweating and panting hard on the wet grassy ground, he calmly ponders for his survival. Turning himself upwards, facing the sky, as he holds his injured abdomen.
"Fuck me! Adventurers' guild, my ass." He groans, grieving in anger.
Adding salt to his wounds, thunderclaps can be heard, and rain starts to mantle the land.
"Asshole." Natalak gave a middle finger to the sky.
He didn't lie there facing death to take him, mustering enough strength to get him back on his feet. Worse, the potion didn't numb his injuries, but his will and fortitude, aided by the endurance potion, he managed to sustain his wound before trekking steadily.
Picking a stick as a third leg, he agilely searches for a shelter. And not long, heavy drips of rain gradually drop from the sky.
"Does it have to be this day! I regret putting a finger to the sky." He grunts, trying to regulate his breathing.
In desperation for shelter just fifty meters from where he was teleported, Natalak found a large fallen, uprooted tree, and a small burrow dug by the tree roots that had been deracinated. Taking shelter within the roots, it was enough to cover him from the rain. He looks for any smooth surfaces, for if there is, either an animal took the first accommodation, and pray it wasn't a wolf, or worse.
Natalak sniffed, catching any scent, ordinary or animal. He was pleased, for he was the first to house the place. He looked and saw the waters were rising, and in a few hours, his shelter would flood. Pulling out the sword, Natalak then creates a canal encircling his shelter. While he too creates a small mud wall, shielding the rain splash.
Minutes of catching his breath, Natalak begins to self-operating his injuries. He can feel the thunder begins to intensify, as the rain begins to worsen. Regardless, he was lucky enough to find shelter and, thoughtfully, thanks the rain for covering his scent. For the aroma of his injuries might attract predators.
Stripping away the armour, he can see the wounds were deep cuts. Heads are turning, looking for any insect that resembles ants or termites. Scratching away the dirt, he was able to find a peculiar insect. Using the insect's mandible, he stitched his wounds, greatly preventing further blood loss.
Gathering the nearby grass and plants as his remedy, Natalak began to crush the flora, grinding and extracting their oil and water. Before that, he remembers the leftover ale he bought. Two are left; it was enough to disinfect his wounds. Through enough rubbing, he turns the plants and grass into a ball shape, using it to clot his open wounds.
Wasting no time while bleeding to death, Natalak firmly pressed the minced plant, leaving a moaning pain and scavenging his bag, pulling out the tattered clothes. He then shreds the fabric, creating a bandage that he uses to wrap his wound.
"Finally." He pants. Tired, he lies down for a deep slumber and hopes that no monster harvests his life.
As for the paladin, when Natalak took his escape, Ashalain was on the road, bolting the stallion to the nearest municipality. The guards were alerted when they saw a flaming horse dashing towards their gate. And before the sentries could sound the alarm, they stopped upon seeing Ashalain give the signal.
Quickly, then, the guards motioned the others to refrain from ringing the alarm bell.
"FALSE ALARM-FALSE ALARM!" Cries the guard standing at the gate.
"YOU BASTARD! ARE YOU FOOLING ME AGAIN!" Shouts the sentries, who were on standby near the alarm bell.
"SHUT UP, I'M MORE IN A BAD MOOD THAN YOU ARE!"
Halting the horse, Ashalain reveals her guild crest. Once the guard gives the pass, Ashalain nods and enters the town.
Dousing Azarus's flame, the paladin of Azarus only needs to touch the horse's neck, as if reclaiming the blessing. Disembarking, the paladin quickly goes to the adventurer's guild; however, this was the guild's branch.
"Good day, is the teleportation stone to the main guild still open?" Ashalain implores the receptionist.
"I regret to inform you, Lady Ashalain, the link to the main guild has been temporarily disconnected. Lord Helmes of Aghraim is said to be visiting. However, we can provide you with a teleportation scroll, but you will only be teleported to Ravalind's sentries at the southern wing sentries— would that be okay with you?" The male receptionist answered.
"That's more than enough. I don't have any coins on me right now. Would it be okay to put this in my tab?" Ashalain glided her noble crest on the desk.
"Of course, madam Ashalain de Shilvia. I'll prepare the documents, and do apologise for the delay."
While on the bench, her legs crossing, so are her arms. Eyes closed, waiting for the documents to be finished, a distressful call disrupted Ashalain. A receptionist was calling, conscripting for any available adventurers. So, to say, it was unavoidable to be invincible when the recruiter came to her.
"Apologise, my lady, are you perhaps available for a joint mission?" Begs the female receptionist.
"Forgive me, but there's some affair that I greatly need to attend." Expressed Ashalain.
"I understand." The receptionist bows before going towards the next adventurer.
After only three minutes, the documents were ready. Signed and before Ashalain could finally accept the receipt's copy. She paused; the female receptionist was still calling for aid.
"Pff, that's what the consequences you get, boldly going for a dangerous quest you can't take." Mutters one of the guild members, followed by a mocking titter from his other companions.
When Ashalain caught their words—
"I think, sir, old man Garrick can wait." Smiles Ashalain as if mocking her superior.
"Can you hold on to this for a bit?" Ashalain implores, giving back the documents.
"Of course." The receptionist nods, pulling back the documents.
Scrutinising the scene first, it looked like the receptionist had given up. She was now giving words of advice to the three adventurers.
"I'm deeply sorry, but there's no single member who wants to join." A pitiful expression the receptionist gave. "If you can wait for one day, some members from the main guild might come to your aid."
"That's alright, madam, but we don't want to see our friends suffer anymore." The adventurer said that, from his appearance, he was a fighter, proficient in dual-wielding.
"My apologies for intruding on your conversation. I overheard your trouble, and I would like to give my assistance." Comes Ashalain.
Her tallness, the radiant armour she wears, and her beauty greatly intimidate the four adventurers. And the moment she reveals her guild's crest, they couldn't help but look at her in silence, admiring.
To them, even without showing their guild ranks, Ashalain can perceive they are novice adventurer. Their armours, the expression they gave and the presence they emitted, it was common for her, a paladin's trait to be said.
Leading the trainee adventurers in a more secluded table, Ashalain first needed to know everything.
"We were trying to seek some glory there at Nunkathe." The group leader spoke
"Nunkathe? That's a three-day walk from here." Ashalain ponders. "Why didn't you ask for help from a more experienced adventurer? You do know the reputation of that place?" She continues.
"We-we really took the assignment to test our skills."
"Please don't lie to me. This is a serious matter." Ashalain crossed her arms, her gaze at the adventurers.
"One of our friends was convinced by two individual adventurers that we'll strike a fortune there at Nunkathe. The two adventurers said it was easy work since they were silver-class adventurers. But we were wrong, we fled the battle and left two of our companions." The young adventurer spoke, his gaze on the ground, his expression guilty and ashamed.
The paladin understood their emotions, their desperate attempt to hold a treasure, a relic, and a glory to their name.
"I see, when was the last time you entered that place?" Ashalain calmly said.
"Last morning. We enter that place during sunrise." The mage adventurer answered.
"About the two adventurers who convinced your friends. Did they first report it to the guild? And where did they hold the meeting? Because, as far as I'm concerned, the guild rules do not allow that." Ashalain's query left them in silence.
"We were convinced that they told us it was already settled. I think their magic enamoured us."
Ashalain gave a deep sigh and remembered Natalak's cruel words to her. Giving harsh interrogation to the young adventurers won't help in solving the problems, let alone bringing the dead back to life.
"I'll help you with your troubles, though I can't guarantee to revive your friends. I can only give them a proper rest. Also, if this is finished, I want you all to restudy the rules and regulations of the guild."
Nods in acceptance, the group journeys to Nunkathe, not with wagons or on foot. It was through teleportation by one of the mages.
The place was full of ruins, the rubble of ancient cities. Torn by war, perhaps conflict of monsters, or other worldly realms. Now, overgrown grass paints the floor, and trees grow inside the building. Sunlight enters the view, creating a lonely, vivid place. Still, the desolated city clings to life, still crying to be seen by mortals, hoping it will soon be revived.
Ashalain scrutinised the surroundings, looking for any signs of trails. It came, walking on all fours, its form that of a bear, eyes gleaming emerald. Head like a dragon, the front leg holds a serrated wyvern wing. It was large, large enough to devour a pig in one bite. It stops in its tracks, waiting for what action the adventurers will take.
"Stand down." Ashalain motions her hand, ordering the adventurers to halt their offensive.
The entity, after Ashalain's brief words, resumes walking towards their direction. Green mist slowly emanates from the monster's body, and it rapidly turns into a beautiful woman.
"A druid!" The mage adventurer responds.
When the green mist dissolved— a forest-born sovereign with antlers like living branches, and hair flowing like vines, green vines. Her pale, bark-smooth skin and glowing golden eyes give her an ancient presence. Clad in leaf-forged armour, she looks less like a mortal and more like the spirit or empress of the deep woods itself, calm and powerful.
"Greetings, lady of the woods, we're from the adventurers' guild. We were sent to investigate some disturbance from this place." Ashalain respectfully said, showing her the guild's badge.
"Ah, so you're one of those my husband talks about." The druid replied warmly, but with a hint of assertive tone.
"Husband?" Ashalain raised her eyebrows.
"Yes." The druid nods warmly. "Names Firading."
Guiding the adventurers, they met a human who seemed to be studying the city's ruins.
Sensing their presence, Firading's husband put aside his work and greeted the people.
"Ah, followers of Azarus." Firading's husband said, pertaining to Ashalain. "Are you perhaps one of the adventurers' guild?"
"Yes— from your clothing, are you from Mavigrid?" Ashalain answered.
"Indeed, though I'm a scholar. Name is William, by the way. I've sent a message to the nearest adventurers' guild. Are you the one they've sent?"
Ashalain shakes her head. "We've come to retrieve one of our fallen brethren. Is there anything that we should know from the troubles of this place?"
"Necromancy, someone has been practising in this area. And calling the aid from those who don't belong to this world." Firading said, looking at the centre of the ruined city.
"Curious, why would a scholar such as you come to this dangerous place?" Ashalain politely queries.
"It's not me." William nudges his head at Firading.
"Ah, forgive me." Ashalain gave an apologetic bow.
"No need for that." Firading, gesturing with her hand. "The spirits of this land call to my aid, though even I cannot do this alone. So, I seek help from my husband."
"I understand, but how about your husband?"
"Don't worry about me, I can handle myself very well." William is casting an orb light.
"Don't mind my husband, he's just borrowing my powers." Firading a drolly gaze at her partner.
The paladin gave a slight smile, heartened by the two couples' banter. Deep inside, Ashalain was worried, not the adversaries they were facing. It is the conclusion of this assignment that she was on the edge.
Lying past their warm welcome, the group now changes their trajectory. They could feel the necrotic energy surging in the land. The more they thread deeper, grasses now turn blight, putrid from the decay.
The fetid energy may be too much for a simple human's fortitude. Nevertheless, Ashalain's holy fire and Firading's power overwhelm the rotten mist that turns a man into an abomination. And along the way, there were many disfigured monsters and humans they encountered.
Inspecting every corpse, the young adventurers shake their heads. The fallen enemies weren't the adventurer's companion they sought. Perhaps they are at the centre of the discord. Deeper as they enter the heart of dread, it leads them to the entrance of a dungeon.
"Let me handle this, and I suggest you move a bit farther away." Firading announce.
Placing both hands on the ground, the earth sunder, roots begin to sprout. The tremor it made was like a landslide— slowly, the whole dungeon erupted from the ground. Covered in dirt, draped by large roots, bricks falling; Firading didn't stop there when she commanded the roots to dismantle the whole dungeon.
"READY YOURSELVES!" Ashalain shouts, unveiling her sword.
Brick by brick, when the dungeon was slowly being stripped, it was like a coffin being dug up, unearthing the things that live inside. Gallantly, Ashalain led the charge. Her flames were different, unlike the red flames; this, however, was the colour of dawn— the morning sun.
"THERE!" Exclaimed one of the adventurers, pointing towards the undead knight whose flesh still lingers.
"Understood, I'll take care of it." Ashalain quickly charged on the frontline, dragging her morning flames.
For her, she easily outclasses the undead knight, and once the flames of dawn engulf the undead.
"Thank thee…" The knight said that before the flames sent him to rest.
Two more adventurers came, and quickly Ashalain delivered them to their rest; the only remains she gathered were their guild's crest.
"Filthy mortals." Comes a voice of the man.
Wearing a grey robe, the man's face was covered in dragon skin. From its looks, he was a necromancer, a cultist of the Agum.
"IT'S HIM! HE'S THE ONE WHO CONVINCED US!" points one of the adventurers.
Taking no hesitation, Ashalain plucks a spear embedded in one of the fallen enemies. Enchanting the spear with her flames, she manages to nail the necromancer to the wall. Knowing her attacks didn't fully kill the man, she dashes for decapitation.
Halfway from their distance, the necromancer transmutes into a large undead wyvern. Unfazed, Ashalain continues, ready to face such a giant. And before the two could duel, Firading takes the first bite— in her beast form; like a catapult, Firading rams the undead wyvern on the walls.
Ashalain glanced at the others and saw they were able to sustain the lesser undead. William nods, signalling the paladin to finish the necromancer, while they deal with the remaining adversaries.
"Got it!" Ashalain nods and quickly follows the two beasts.
Crashing the wyvern on the other side, the necromancer was trying his best to separate himself from the jaws of Firading. Wings flap viciously, grazing Firading's thick skin. In exchange, Firading savagely wrestles the wyvern, mauling the undead on the building ruins.
Debris, shoots from every corner, the sound of two beasts can be heard roaring on whose victory shall be granted. Bricks are tossed, and the sound of flesh and bones being hammered on the stones.
Now the undead wyvern was vomiting acid, hoping the druid would release him. But the druid's paws keep preventing the reptile's head from vomiting towards her direction. As for the paladin, she was circling the two, shielding the debris.
For Ashalain, the battle was so chaotic and intense that she was searching for the right opening to strike. Bones crack— Firading's jaw was able to break the left side of the wyvern's wings. That, however, when the wyvern's sharp talons slash Firading's right abdomen, sending her on a setback.
Unable to fly, Ashalain took this opportunity. Wounded, maybe, Firading lashes out in fury, pinning the disabled wyvern on the ground. It was enough for the paladin to plant her sword in the wyvern's head.
Like a syringe, her sword injects holy flames both inside and outside of the undead, roasting them to death. Discontented, Ashalain decapitates the necromancer's head before burning it to ashes.
"Lady Firading!" Ashalain shouts as she dashes towards the druid in her human form.
Kneeling, hands on her abdomen, seems to say that the druid had taken a great blow on her right abdomen. The wound was deep, and she was breathing heavily.
"Stay still!" Ashalain conjures her green flames, pouring all her life forces for the sake that the druid's wound was beginning to heal.
"That's enough, Lady of Flames," Firading said, flicking Ashalain's forehead. "I can heal myself."
When the battle is over, the party regroup and searches what remains of the uprooted dungeon. And from their investigation, they found vile things had been made. The paladin, however, wasn't affected by it; she had seen countless brutal rituals.
"W-what about us? Will the guild excommunicate us?" Ask one of the adventurers towards Ashalain.
"I think that won't be necessary. I think you'll be given a slight penalty for your actions. It's best to give your true reports, as for the spoil of the battle. You can have it all, but you shall need to report it all to the guild, understand?" Ashalain suggest.
"Thank you, Lady Ashalain. I must confess— I-I was the one who accepted the necromancer's offer, and the knights were the ones who came to rescue us." Bows the adventurer.
"I already know that you were lying from the start. And like I said, it's best to give everything to the guild." Ashalain replied.
Dusk takes its place, and the two couples give their farewell towards the adventurer.
"Until we meet again, lady paladin." William waves his hand as they enter the deep forest.
Ashalain waved her hand in return, and for a moment, she looked at the sky. It's as if there's a change in her. Fist pressed firmly on her chest, the wind blew as if giving her soul a refreshing relief, and the thoughts that rang in her mind were— 'Natalak'.