After quite some time had passed, it was finally time for the group to gather and leave for their archaeological excursion to find a supposed temple that was supposed to be somewhere up in the forsaken region. As someone who was about as native to that region as it could get, he understood that that particular portion of the country was far larger than the rest, so it made sense that he had never heard about it up until this point. Apparently being some long lost temple that was either devoted or built to house them, the whole place was supposed to depict snakes. If nothing else, it at the very least explained why he was supposed to go about studying venomous snakes, even though it felt mostly like a waste of time. To him, anything hostile that could be avoided would be avoided or dissuaded from attacking him or the people he was meant to be protecting, that much was clear as day.

However, if that was not something he could do, the only other thing he could do would be to either knock it out or kill it, with the latter being the safest way of dealing with threats and making sure they would not come back a second time to potentially harm or kill someone. Bringing his trusty black blade, some water-tight boots and a pair of gloves in addition to his regular attire, he figured he was about as ready as he would ever be. Heading out to the agreed upon location, he met up with Vones, who in turn introduced him to the rest of the party before going over the plan. As it turned out, they had someone with them that was supposed to be an expert on dead languages and ancient writing, a scholar studying communities that had been driven to extinction and a member of the church of clover. While the priest did not really want to come, many of the workers they brought along were superstitious to the point where they would not head into an unknown temple without celestial guidance.

Not really making an attempt at showing his dislike towards such practices, Griswold did understand why Vones had made the decision to bring the priest. Maybe if all went well, he too could grab a shovel and put in some work. And in the worst case scenario, they found something that was not meant to be added to any museum and had to be stored away from the rest of the world, in which case the priest could take it and shove it into one of the many vaults the church supposedly had hidden beneath their main building. If nothing else, it was at least an option they had now, and that at least mattered for something. So after several equipment checks and making sure they had their coordinates right, it was time for them to start moving. And so they did, venturing throughout the forsaken region, passing many of the places Griswold frequented back when he was still a mercenary, and now watched over as a black bull. Eventually though, as the hours passed, the group made their way into a marshland he did not even knew existed.

As they passed through a rather suspicious stretch of wood, he could clearly tell that this place was not right. Usually, trees growing along the side of a marsh were either really well acclimated to it, or they straight up rotted due to the water overly moisturizing the roots and causing the tree to eventually topple and just disappear in the marsh itself. These trees however seemed to have done neither, as they were still standing upright, though there was not a single leaf left on any of them. In fact, the very color of these trees had gone from a healthy green or brown to a sickly grey, which was far from normal. Now, Griswold was not much of a tree doctor, but even he could tell that the average tree was not supposed to be having a mana signature unless there was some kind of magical creature hiding inside of them.

So as they approached, Griswold held out his hand, putting the troupe into a state of full stop, which was not something they enjoyed. Clearly not liking to wait around in a place like this without very good reason to keep them from continuing to march towards the supposed location of the temple, the solar mage held his finger over his mouth, instructing everyone to keep their traps shut in a non-verbal manner. As they did, he pointed that same finger towards one of the trees, which seemed to move ever so slightly as if something large was poking around at the roots, perhaps some kind of alligator. From that point on however, it only took a few moments before one of the trees uprooted itself, proving to be some kind of magically infused tree monster, though one Griswold was unfamiliar with. Telling everyone to move back as more of the trees followed suit, it was not long before all of the sickly trees stood in upright position, blocking their path.

Whether these beings knew what they were doing and were just aiming to keep Griswold and the archaeologists from moving forward, or if they were just some kind of malevolent tree monsters that were simply out to cause some mayhem was not something the solar mage could possibly know. All he knew was that with these kinds of beings, there was really no way of communicating or otherwise telling them to stand down as they just creaked and moaned, leading one to believe they were in a constant state of anguish. As an elf at his core, Griswold knew that there were a fair amount of woodland creatures and spirits out there, such as the dryads he had met a few months ago near the village of Hage. They were fierce protectors of the forest, and they were capable of speaking in the native language of the elves. That was perhaps the only reason he had managed to dissuade them from killing some peasants without bloodshed at the time.

As for these things, he figured they could possibly be treants, though the only treants he had ever encountered were not hostile for no reason, nor did they just show themselves to not be average trees to humans. A common thing most natural entities knew was to not show themselves to humans, as they had a tendency towards attacking or killing that which they did not understand, which was a side to humanity Griswold himself had encountered time and again during his almost four years spent among humans in the land of clover. Sure, most of them meant well, but when push came to shove, many would resolve to destroying nature or even killing their neighbor if it meant getting to live for another month. But that was just how they were as a species. And speaking about species, he himself was getting an entirely different vibe from these “treants”.

During a period of time he had spent in Kiten, waiting for a local artisan to finish crafting his broom, he had come across the trail of grave robbers that had kidnapped a family. And to make a really long story short, that whole ordeal had eventually ended up in him having to square off against a royal tomb’s worth of wraiths that were none too happy with any of the interlopers that had forcefully awoken them from their eternal slumber by stealing a magical staff from their final resting place. As those wraiths were also in a state of constant pain and confusion, so too could he sense a similar sensation from these treants. Not taking any chances, he hoped that the thing he did next would bring an end to their suffering as he held out his hand and released enough magical orbs for each one of the treants that was approaching them. Upon contact, the soggy wood was instantly dried as the whole body caught on fire.

Birthing a sizeable conflagration, it was a good thing that he had told everyone to take a few steps back, thus ensuring their safety. Incinerating most of the wood, what remained collapsed in on itself, removing the threat altogether. Just to be safe, the black bull made his way over to the remnants, digging around it with his boot, finding that there were bodies among the burnt wood. From what he could tell, they had been entirely desiccated, meaning they had been in there for a very long time as the slightest touch of fire had done untold damage to them. Believing these people might have been placed inside of the trees a very long time ago either as punishment or as part of some ritual, when they died, their spirits had likely been trapped within the trees, thus turning into the grotesquely deformed and sickly treants that had stood between them and the serpent temple.

Though everyone was eager to continue after this whole thing, it wasn’t too hard for Griswold to get everyone to agree and even help him when he argued that these people deserved a proper burial. So as the last body was being lowered into the ground and the priest said a few words, the solar mage hoped that they would finally be able to find the peace that they had been denied for such a long time already. With a fairly long trek still ahead of them, Griswold paid his last respects to the dead and went back to the front of the party. Venturing ever deeper into the marshlands, it was not hard to understand that no one was stupid enough to live anywhere close to this area. The ground was far too wet to be tilling any crops or produce, there were too many predators living out here to be keeping any livestock, and actually building a farm or any type of building on this soil would just cause it to sink into the soil over time.

And then there was the overall sense of dread that lingered in the marshes, as if something horrible had happened there that had gone unresolved for countless years. But if everything was to turn out as planned, with the archaeological party making their way over to the temple that was supposed to be here, perhaps they could figure out whether he was right in his assumption or if the place just seemed scary because it was a swamp. As he himself was quite used to forests, plains and mountains, venturing into swamps was not something he did all that often, as he did not really like the overall gloomy vibe that was hanging over them. Though nowhere near as bad as oceans and seas, which he outright hated being on in some rickety boat, swamps were high on the list of places he would prefer to avoid if at all possible. But as a mercenary, he did not always get to pick his jobs, which was just as much the truth now that he was a magic knight again.

But aside from his general dislike towards marshes and swamps, this one was getting particularly dark and gloomy, likely as a result of them getting closer to their desired location. One thing was certain, the amount of vegetation had really picked up the more they headed into the marshes, making it a lot harder to see what was around them beyond the thickening tree line. But even as the place darkened, he was not about to let that get him into the same scared or gloomy mood as the people who were behind him. Because as the foliage grew denser, the sound of birds and critters had just stopped outright, which was simply not natural. This did however make it easier for him to figure out whether or not there was danger around, as any noise he heard now was not going to be some innocent little bird, a badger or a squirrel. So when he heard something in the trees overhead, his gaze was instantly pulled towards it. And while it was too dark to see it clearly, one thing was easy to spot: a pair of glowing red eyes.

As a large black snake came down from the tree tops, Griswold could tell in one glance that there was something not right with it. Just as had been the case with the treants from before, there was something wrong with the animal. According to the homework he had been forced into regarding venomous snakes, the black mamba was supposed to be a snake that one could arguably fit inside of a fish tank. These however were large enough to swallow a man whole, being much more on the size and scale of a constrictor snake. That, and the glowing red eyes gave away the fact that something had corrupted these animals and warped them into the form the archaeological group now saw before them. More interesting than that was the fact that it had not come alone, and that it moved incredibly fast. Before Griswold really had the chance to register every single one of the serpents, the first person was already being attacked.

Realizing that he was dangerously close to dropping the ball and letting someone get hurt, he gripped the handle of his large black blade as a surge of solar mana shot through his body. While he was already slightly faster than these large serpents, this surge of mana went to further push the limits of his own body, pushing it to speeds of up to fifty meters per second. Believing that to be enough, he set off, shooting himself towards the striking snake, relieving it of its head before it even had the chance to protect itself. Leaping and bounding between the trees and using them to redirect his own moment, his blade effortlessly ripped through the snakes and left their writhing bodies on the wet marsh floor. All in all, it only took Griswold a total of four seconds to get rid of every single one of the snakes, as his speed paired with the ability to fly granted him an insane level of maneuverability.

Even if those snakes could move at high speeds, none of them stood an inkling of a chance once the solar mage had activated his spell. So as he reappeared at the front of the party a few seconds after he had, for lack of a better word, disappeared, many of the people within the party were startled by it, including Vones herself. When she had hired him for the job, she had seemingly believed him to be a capable addition to the team, but had not imagined him to be this capable. Going as far as to put her hands together and applauding his quick and decisive action, it resulted in the whole party doing the same, even those that believed themselves to be mere seconds away from becoming snake food. Appreciating the gesture, he had not exactly done it for the applause. So as they finished clapping their hands together, Griswold just nodded as he put his blade back over his shoulder, attaching it to the holder on his back.

They still had quite a ways to go before they could start their trek back home, and being afraid that the clapping might have alerted more predators to their location, Griswold merely kept his act together as he watched his surroundings more carefully. While he could have told the group to quit applauding, he figured they could use something like this to keep up morale. They had after all already been attacked by strange treants, ended up burying people that had been dead for decades if not longer, and some of them had almost died at the hands… or rather fangs of some oversized vipers. If him making his own job a little bit harder was what he had to pay to keep the people here from shaking in their boots with every rustle of a leaf, he imagined it was but a small sacrifice to make on his part. Because as he had already established, it was safe to assume that the sounds he heard were originating from some kind of hostile entity, something that was similar to the treants or the serpents, as all natural life had seemingly packed it’s bags and left a long time ago.

Besides, there were worse things than making the people he should be protecting believe that he could keep them safe so fast they might not even see the threat coming. That too was worth something, even though it was not exactly true. But as they were making their way over to the place that was marked out on their map, it was exactly what he would allow them all to believe. But as they kept on moving, the more this place began to remind him of the cursed forest, which was another place along the north eastern border where a lot of peasants had lost their lives due to some kind of hag having infested the area with dark magic, and even darker minions. If at any point in time this place turned out to be like that, he was going to turn the whole caravan around and make sure these people got back safely to one of the nearby towns or villages. Unfortunately however, he would not have the time to properly secure it as “safer”, for it seemed they had arrived.

Spotting a fairly small building made entirely out of stone and overgrown with vines, it was clear that most of the building had begun to sink into the damp soil, which was either due to a lack of oversight from the architect, or perhaps something they had done so as to make sure that whatever went on inside of the temple wouldn’t get out. After all, screams made underground in some large stone complex was unlikely to make its way out to the surface.

3026

[Exit to the final stage of the chain]