Chapter 44:  Strangeness


    The recruits trudged back through the Stony Forest, the night pressing in on them like a living thing. The trees, tall and ancient, swayed gently in the breeze, their branches creaking and groaning as if they whispered secrets to one another. Normally, walking through this forest at night would have terrified Abel, but something felt different now.


    Though the shadows seemed darker than before and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures raised the hairs on the back of his neck, Abel felt an odd sense of security. It wasn’t that the forest had grown any less eerie—in fact, its twisting, jagged trees and the way the ground seemed to shift beneath his feet still unsettled him. But now, after everything they had been through, the presence of the Stone Tower’s influence reassured him.


    They were still within its protective reach.


    The others must have felt it too. Even though they were tired and shaken, there was no panic, no rushing like there might have been under other circumstances. They walked with measured steps, their eyes adjusting to the dim light that barely trickled through the canopy of the dense forest. The fog hung low to the ground, swirling lazily around their feet like a living thing.


    Abel glanced at Nando, who was leading the group with his confident strides. He hadn’t said much since they left the ruins, but Abel could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, as though Nando’s mind was more on what he’d gained than the danger they had barely escaped. Sena, on the other hand, looked pale, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. Something was clearly wrong with him, but Sena said nothing and continued walking.


    The soft hoot of a distant owl echoed through the forest, adding to the eerie atmosphere, but it was familiar. This place, for all its creeping shadows and lurking dangers, was part of the Stone Tower’s territory. Abel knew that within these boundaries, they were relatively safe—safer than they would be outside the tower’s influence, anyway.


    They pushed forward, the towering silhouette of the Stone Tower eventually coming into view, looming like a silent guardian in the distance. Its walls glowed faintly, imbued with the protective magic of the tower, casting long shadows that stretched out toward them like fingers.


    Finally, they reached the entrance, exhausted and drenched in sweat. They had made it. The relief was short-lived, however, as a figure stepped out from the shadows to greet them.


    Glandel.


    He stood there, his eyes cold and sharp, arms crossed over his chest. His presence was unnerving, and though he was not the largest man, there was something about him that commanded attention and demanded respect. His sharp gaze swept over the group, taking in their disheveled appearance and the items they carried.


    “Where were you?” Glandel asked, his voice low but firm, leaving no room for evasion. Although it felt like a few hours due to the high suspense, they were trapped in that ruin for over a day.


    The recruits hesitated for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances before Nando stepped forward, speaking on behalf of the group. “We were on a task with Cloudbreaker... to assist in his breakthrough,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “But something went wrong. He... didn’t make it.”


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    Glandel’s eyes narrowed slightly but gave no indication of surprise. "Go on," he said, motioning for them to continue.


    Abel cleared his throat and added, "After Cloudbreaker died, we stumbled upon some ruins... deep underground. We had no choice but to hide there, but inside... there was a man. We later identified him as FiendFinger. He... he tried to use us in some sort of experiment.”


    Glandel’s expression remained unreadable, though his eyes flickered briefly with what might have been recognition. "FiendFinger, you say?" His gaze shifted to Nando, who had been quiet until now. "And how did you all escape?"


    Nando stepped forward, his voice calm and measured. “I’d been searching for information on the Black Alchemists and happened to follow them down there. When I realized what was happening, I... intervened and interrupted the breakthrough causing a backlash of magic to kill Fiendfinger.” He shrugged slightly as if it were no big deal.


    Glandel studied them all for a long moment, then nodded. "I see. The ruins... were they destroyed?"


    "Mostly," Abel answered. "The place collapsed after we escaped."


    Another pause, then Glandel’s eyes softened ever so slightly. "Return to your rooms. I’ll report this to the higher-ups. And don’t speak of this to anyone else until I have more information." His tone carried an unspoken warning.


    Without another word, they nodded and headed for their rooms, too drained to process much of what had just happened.


    …


    Abel entered his room and immediately dumped everything he had gathered onto the small table. His hands shook as he pulled out the items from his robe: an old booklet filled with strange, cryptic writings, a thin research paper theorizing the existence of something called the Demonic Realm, and a handful of other odd trinkets that seemed to hum with faint magic.


    He couldn’t shake the tingling sensation still crawling under his skin. The strange green liquid... whatever it was, had done something to him. He felt different—changed in a way he couldn’t yet explain. His mind was racing, but his body ached for rest.


    His gaze fell on the booklet, the cover worn and faded. It bore a strange symbol—one that sent a shiver down his spine. He opened it to the first page and quickly realized it was a catalog of horrors—detailed notes on the creatures FiendFinger had experimented with. Abel’s stomach churned as he skimmed through the pages, each entry more grotesque than the last.


    Feeling the weight of exhaustion pull him down, he shoved the papers aside and collapsed onto his bed. He hoped that sleep would help calm the strange feeling inside of him, but as he closed his eyes, the images from the ruins—Lorne’s death, FiendFinger’s grotesque face, and the bubbling green liquid—haunted his thoughts.


    …


    In another part of the tower, Sena had barely made it to his room. The moment he shut the door, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, his vision blurring. His body felt heavy, as if the very energy had been drained from him. He staggered to his bed and collapsed, too weak to even change out of his clothes. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his head pounded with a dull ache that spread throughout his body.


    Something was wrong.


    The cold, creeping sensation that had settled in his bones back in the ruins hadn’t faded—it had grown worse. Sena tried to fight the growing fatigue, but his body refused to cooperate. Within minutes, he had succumbed to sleep, though his rest was far from peaceful.


    In the stillness of the night, as both Abel and Sena lay unconscious in their beds, the remnants of FiendFinger’s twisted experiments began to stir within them.