Kael's blade sang through the air, a sharp hiss followed by the sickening crunch of bone as another undead head rolled across the cobblestones. The grotesque skull came to a stop, its decayed jaw opening and closing as if it were still attempting to moan. The headless body staggered, flailing its rotted arms wildly, groping for the severed head as it blindly stumbled in circles.

  Kael didn’t wait. His glowing blade flashed again, cleaving through the torso of another shambling corpse. The creature collapsed, its upper half clawing desperately at his boots as if to drag him down into the mist. He kicked it aside with contempt.

  The wraiths returned, their skeletal forms shimmering faintly as they glided through the mist with an otherworldly grace. Their red eyes burned like hellish coals, fixed on Kael with malevolent intensity. One lunged, its decayed weapon slicing toward his chest. Kael pivoted smoothly, his blade catching the wraith mid-swing. The creature screeched as his sword cleaved it in two, its form dissipating into a wisp of shadow that evaporated into the green haze.

  Another wraith appeared from behind, its hollow jaw unhinged in a silent scream. Kael spun, his left hand snapping up as he shouted, "Jarla!" A burst of fire erupted from his palm, the searing flames engulfing the wraith and reducing its bones to ash.

  The whispers grew louder now, no longer faint murmurs but guttural voices, speaking in tongues that clawed at the edges of sanity. Kael could feel the cursed city reaching for him, trying to pull him into its grasp, but he pressed on, his steps purposeful and unyielding.

  More undead surged toward him, drawn by the sound of battle. Their decayed forms moved with jerking, unnatural movements, their lifeless eyes filled with ravenous hunger. One swung a rusted sword, its blade inches from Kael’s neck before he ducked and drove his glowing longsword upward, splitting the creature from chin to crown. The two halves collapsed in a heap, spilling putrid ichor onto the cobblestones.

  He turned and slashed in a single fluid motion, severing the arm of another corpse that tried to grab him. The limb twitched on the ground, the skeletal fingers clenching and unclenching even after separation. Kael crushed it under his boot as he surged forward, his sword a blur of light and death.

  Ahead, the caravan was still moving, but slowly, the dwarves struggling to pull the terrified animals through the mist. The undead pressed toward them from all sides, their moans rising into a cacophony of despair.

  Kael’s voice boomed over the chaos. “Keep moving! Don’t stop!”

  A wraith descended from above, its claws reaching for him, but Kael was faster. He sidestepped and drove his blade upward, impaling the creature through its hollow chest. The wraith let out a deafening shriek before dissolving into nothingness.

  He reached the rear of the caravan, where the group of mercenaries fought desperately to hold back the advancing horde. One of them turned to Kael, terror etched on his face. “We can’t hold them! There’s too many!”

  Kael’s voice was calm, almost cold. “Then fight harder.”

  With a powerful swing, he cleared a path through the undead, his blade slicing through rotted flesh and bone with ease.

  The caravan pressed on, the mercenaries rallying behind Kael’s unyielding presence. But the whispers never ceased, the shadows never stopped moving, and the oppressive weight of the cursed city bore down on them all, a constant reminder that Dulgal was a place of no return.

  The caravan surged deeper into the heart of Dulgal, the oppressive green mist clinging to their every step. The whispers had grown into a maddening chorus of overlapping voices, some weeping, others laughing, and many growling incoherent threats. The lanterns and torches cast long, flickering shadows that seemed to twist into clawed hands and monstrous faces, as if the darkness itself were alive and watching.

  Kael led the way, behind him, the dwarves stumbled forward, their breaths ragged, their nerves fraying under the relentless pressure of fear.

  Then, the air changed.

  It started as a low rumble, a grotesque, wet sound, like flesh being torn and reshaped. The moans of the undead faded, replaced by something far more insidious: a squelching, slithering noise that echoed off the crumbling stone walls. Kael slowed, his senses on high alert, his eyes scanning the gloom for the source of the sound.

  The others froze as the first abomination crawled into view.

  It was a mass of reanimated flesh, its body an amalgamation of rotting limbs, torsos, and faces grotesquely stitched together by tendrils of sinew and pulsating veins. Eyes—too many eyes—rolled wildly across its form, some glowing faintly, others sunken and lifeless. A gaping maw stretched unnaturally wide in its center, filled with jagged, mismatched teeth that gnashed hungrily.

  “Gods help us,” one of the mercenaries whispered, his voice trembling.

  The creature let out a sound that was neither a growl nor a scream but something in between, a guttural, inhuman noise that vibrated through the air and rattled bones. It charged forward, its movements jerky and unnatural, leaving a trail of black, viscous fluid in its wake.

  “Hold your ground!” Kael bellowed, stepping in front of the group.

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  The creature lunged at him, its many arms flailing. Kael met it head-on, his glowing blade slicing through one of its appendages. The severed limb fell to the ground, twitching like a dying serpent, but the creature barely noticed. It reared back and struck again, its maw snapping inches from Kael’s face. He ducked and slashed upward, his blade cleaving through its hideous torso.

  For a moment, it seemed to falter, but then the severed pieces began to writhe and stitch themselves back together.

  “Burn it!” Kael commanded.

  A mercenary fumbled with a torch, managing to ignite the creature’s remains with trembling hands. The abomination writhed and screeched, its many mouths howling as the flames consumed it. The sound was unbearable, like the cries of a thousand tortured souls.

  But there was no time to breathe. More of the flesh-beasts emerged from the mist, crawling from alleyways and breaking through decayed doors. Some were humanoid, their limbs elongated and their spines twisted at impossible angles. Others were quadrupedal, their bodies bulging with tumors and covered in patches of ragged, oily fur.

  One of the creatures leapt onto a wagon, its clawed hands tearing through the wood as it shrieked. A dwarf screamed as the beast lunged at him, but Kael was faster. His blade flashed, severing the creature’s head. The decapitated form flailed violently before collapsing into a heap.

  “They’re everywhere!” Zeveron shouted, his face pale as he tried to keep the panicking animals under control.

  Kael’s voice cut through the chaos. “Keep moving! Don’t stop!”

  The group pushed forward, but the creatures pursued relentlessly. The mercenaries fought valiantly, their swords and axes carving through the abominations, but for every one they felled, another took its place.

  One creature, a grotesque fusion of human and animal parts, reared up in front of them, its spine arched unnaturally. Its eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, and its mouth opened to reveal a pulsating mass of tongues that lashed out like whips. It wrapped one of the mercenaries in its slimy appendages, dragging him screaming into the mist.

  “Leave him!” Kael shouted, his voice harsh. “You can’t save him now!”

  Gazelle let out a choked sob, clutching her dagger as if it were the only thing anchoring her to sanity. The whispers were louder now, drilling into her mind, and her hands trembled as she fought to keep moving.

  Kael glanced back, his sharp eyes catching the fear in her face. “Stay close. Don’t look back.”

  Another creature lunged at them, its bloated body bursting as Kael’s sword struck it. A foul, black ichor sprayed across the cobblestones, the stench so vile it made the dwarves gag. The creature’s remains twitched and writhed, the viscera attempting to pull itself back together.

  The group stumbled onto a wider street, the green mist swirling thickly around their feet. Ahead, the ruins of a massive temple loomed, its crumbling spires reaching into the darkness like skeletal fingers. The carvings on its stone facade were warped and distorted, depicting scenes of suffering and torment.

  Kael raised his blade. The creatures hesitated at the edge of the light, their glowing eyes fixed on him with hatred.

  “Inside!” Kael ordered. “Now!”

  The group rushed toward the temple, their footsteps echoing ominously in the desolate city. The creatures followed, their guttural growls and wet, scraping sounds growing louder with every step.

  The group burst into the temple, their boots echoing off the ancient, cracked stone floors. The air inside was thick and stale, reeking of mildew and decay, but it was a welcome reprieve from the horrors clawing at their sanity outside. The dwarves rushed to secure the carriages, their hands trembling as they unhitched the animals and tethered them to nearby columns. Mercenaries huddled near the center of the vast hall, their faces pale and eyes darting to every shadow.

  Kael was the last to enter, his blade still glowing faintly in the gloom. With a quick, practiced motion, he turned and stretched out his three fingers toward the massive iron doors. "Aegis," he intoned, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. A shimmering golden barrier materialized across the entrance, its light dim but resolute. The undead outside screeched and howled in frustration, their claws scraping uselessly against the magical shield.

  The temple fell silent except for the heavy breathing of the group. Gazelle sank to her knees, pressing her back against a column and burying her face in her hands. Zeveron leaned against a wall, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure.

  Kael turned to face them, his expression grim. “We’ve bought ourselves time, but it won’t last forever."

  Zeveron straightened, his voice shaky. “What…what kind of temple is this? It feels…wrong.”

  Kael’s gaze swept across the towering columns and warped carvings that adorned the walls. The temple’s architecture was unlike anything they’d seen before. The stone seemed to shift subtly, as if alive, and the carvings depicted grotesque scenes of suffering: twisted forms bound in chains, mouths frozen in silent screams, and eyes wide with terror.

  “It’s a temple of the damned,” Kael said flatly. “Built by those who worshipped whatever cursed power corrupted this city.”

  The pounding on the temple doors echoed through the cavernous hall like the drumbeat of an oncoming storm. Each impact sent faint ripples through the Aegis barrier, the golden light flickering ominously. The wraiths and grotesque monstrosities outside screeched and howled, their claws scraping against the shimmering shield.

  Inside, the group was huddled near the carriages, their faces pale, their breaths shallow. Every shadow seemed alive, every corner of the temple a potential hiding place for the horrors that had begun to stir. Kael’s sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the slumped shoulders of the mercenaries, the trembling hands of the dwarves, and Gazelle, clutching her arm, her gaze fixed on the distant banging like she was trying to will it away.

  “They’re not going to stop,” Kael muttered, his voice low but resolute. “The Aegis won’t hold much longer.”

  Zeveron wiped sweat from his brow, his hands shaking as he tightened the straps of his satchel. “We can’t fight them all. There’s no way out—this is it.”

  Kael shot him a cold glare. “We’re not dying here. How much black powder do you have left?”

  Zeveron blinked, startled, before fumbling with his satchel. “Enough…maybe. But what good is it now?”

  Kael stood, his long sword gleaming faintly in the dim light. “We blow a hole through the back. These creatures are desperate, not smart—they’re focused on the front. If we’re quick, we can escape before they realize what’s happening.”

  The pounding grew louder, the Aegis barrier flickering more violently now. Zeveron hesitated, then nodded, pulling out the barrels of black powder with trembling hands.

  Kael barked orders, directing the mercenaries and dwarves to position the powder near the back wall of the temple, where the stone looked weakest. The air was thick with tension, every sound magnified—the scrape of boots on stone, the hiss of whispering shadows, and the relentless pounding at the front doors.

  The Aegis flared, a brilliant flash of light, before dimming again. Gazelle’s voice quivered. “It’s going to break…we’re not going to make it.”

  Kael stepped beside her, his tone firm but not unkind. “We’ll make it. Keep your head.”

  With the barrels set and fuses in place, Zeveron lit a torch, his hands trembling so violently the flame nearly went out. Kael guided his hand, steadying him. “Light it and move.”

  The fuse hissed to life, sparks dancing along its length. “Everyone, to the carriages! Now!” Kael ordered.

  The group scrambled, their boots pounding against the stone as they rushed to the center of the hall. Behind them, the pounding at the doors reached a fever pitch. With a resounding crash, a section of the Aegis gave way, and the creatures surged forward, their grotesque forms illuminated in the golden light as they clawed at the remaining shield.

  The explosion erupted with a deafening roar, shaking the entire temple. Dust and debris filled the air as the back wall crumbled, revealing a jagged opening leading into darkness. The group didn’t hesitate, rushing through the narrow passage as the remaining Aegis finally shattered.

  The howls of the creatures filled the air, echoing through the temple as they gave chase. The group burst into the open air of the ruined streets, the haunting green mist swirling around them.

  “Keep going!” Kael shouted, taking the rear as the monstrosities poured from the temple behind them. The ground quaked with the force of their pursuit, their guttural roars growing louder with each step.

  The group ran, the sound of their panicked breaths and pounding boots mingling with the unholy cacophony behind them. Kael turned briefly, his blade slashing through a wraith that had gotten too close. Its body dissolved into a wisp of shadow, but more were right behind it, their glowing eyes searing through the mist.

  “Faster!” Kael barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

  The mercenaries and dwarves pushed themselves to the brink, the carriages rattling over broken cobblestones as the exit to the city loomed in the distance—a faint glimmer of light in the oppressive dark. The creatures were relentless, their forms twisting and contorting unnaturally as they closed the gap.

  Kael gritted his teeth, his blade flashing as he cut down another abomination. “We’re almost there! Don’t stop!”