Chapter 7: The Remover

“And thank you for considering us!” Hugh waved energetically at the distressed-looking client, whose face still bore the haunted expression of regret. “I promise you, sir, you will not regret this decision!” he declared, his voice dripping with confidence.

Lucian watched from behind, arms crossed. That man certainly has a way with words. Lucian had considered stepping in to convince the client not to cancel the request, but Hugh had already taken the lead, radiating competence. Negotiations with this guy around? Easy. This lady, on the other hand…

“What a fine gentleman that guy was!” Raven slurred, swaying precariously as she walked. Lucian sighed as he hoisted her arm over his shoulder, keeping her upright.

“Indeed he was, Ms. Raven,” Hugh replied politely.

“Please.” Raven waved a hand dramatically. “‘Ms. Raven’ was my mother-in-law. Call me Your Majesty.”

Lucian gritted his teeth. For the love of god, shut up. Without another word, he shifted her weight, flipping her into a Fireman’s Carry over his shoulders. Her legs kicked once before she went silent. Finally.

Lucian glanced at Hugh. “Say, any idea where we’re actually going for this guy’s request?”

Hugh nodded, pulling up his [Menu]. “Here’s what I noted down,” he said, reading from a personal log. “‘Please, help a man in need. A Remover attacked me and my caravan on our route back from Silkmeadow Farms. I escaped, but my companions perished. I am not sure how much was destroyed in the attack, so I cannot promise a definite amount. However, I guarantee that compensation will be just.’”

Lucian blinked in surprise. “You wrote all that down?”

Hugh gave a modest shrug. “I handled inventory at the base for months after you left, sir,” he explained. “I got pretty good at documenting excuses and accusations for soldiers caught in heated arguments.”

Lucian snorted. Meticulous. I like that.

Hugh continued. “The client said his caravan was attacked somewhere on the path between here and Silkmeadow Farms—a small settlement near the forest’s border.” He tapped his [Menu]. “So, our best course of action is to warp to Silkmeadow and track the caravan from there.”

Lucian nearly shed a tear of joy. He can plan better than I can! Such a godsend of a party member. But then, a thought struck him. “Wait.” His brow furrowed. “The caravan was attacked on the path?”

Hugh nodded. Lucian frowned. “I thought the laid-out paths were supposed to be safe from monster attacks?”

“For the most part, they are.” Hugh folded his arms. “But, like everything else in this world, nothing is ever truly one-hundred percent guaranteed.”

That hit a little too close to home. Lucian had been clinging to the idea that the world had safe zones—predictable, stable systems like in most games. But the truth was nastier.

“So...?”

Hugh, ever patient, continued as if he had anticipated the question. “From what I've gathered, one must think of the magic surrounding the paths—no, the magic surrounding this entire world—as a continuous, flowing river,” he explained. “At any given moment, the river’s rapid currents might ease up. While the magic remains, in its weakened state, it’s easier for hostile creatures—or those not welcome—to pass through.”

Lucian narrowed his eyes. “Hostile creatures and those not welcome?” he echoed. “What else is out there that’s not welcome?”

Hugh shook his head. “That, I am not sure of,” he admitted. “But that’s part of what excites me about this world. So much to discover.”

Lucian smirked. “Sooner we finish this job, the sooner you can do that.” He adjusted Raven’s weight on his shoulders. “You ever been to Silkmeadow Farms?”

“Sadly, no.” Hugh shook his head. “I've heard it’s somewhere east of here. But that’s about all I know.”

Lucian grimaced. Crap. How are we going to—

“I know where it is.” Raven sang the words in a tune of her own invention.

Lucian sighed in relief. “Thank god you’re still useful for something,” he muttered, adjusting her weight again. Otherwise, I’d be wasting Gold on a Local Map.

“That’s great!” Hugh brightened. “We just need to head to the—”

“The Relay Station,” Lucian interrupted confidently.

“I’m sorry, what?” Hugh tilted his head.

Lucian nodded. “The Relay Station.”

Hugh blinked. “You mean the Warp Hub? Where people teleport to their chosen destination?”

“What? No.” Lucian frowned. “I mean the Relay Station. The place where we choose where to—“

A snicker escaped Raven’s lips. “Heh,” she giggled, voice thick with amusement. “It relays stuff.” Lucian glared at her as she repeated it again. And again. And again. His eye twitched. I could smother you to death in my pits right now if I wanted.

Lucian sighed, ignoring the deadweight on his shoulders. “I don’t suppose you know how it works, do you?” he asked Hugh.

Hugh, ever the diligent scholar, nodded. “From what I’ve gathered from other adventurers,” he began, “the Warp Hub houses a Warp Crystal, which opens doorways between fixed points across Tel Tahkat. Adventurers can use these doorways to instantly travel between hubs, and the crystal itself also acts as a beacon, allowing travelers to warp toward it from anywhere in the land.”

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of information for someone who’s only been here a short while.”

Hugh chuckled. “I ask a lot of questions.”

“Clearly.” Lucian exhaled. “But I was actually asking if you knew how to use one. I’ve only seen Raven do it once, and honestly, I have no idea if anything she says, does, or thinks is even real.”

Hugh blinked. “Oh. Well, yes, I am familiar with the interface.”

Lucian grinned. “Great. Now we just need to use her credentials somehow.” He glanced at Raven. Fast asleep. She was giggling literally five seconds ago. Damn it. Why does everything with her have to be so much more difficult?

Hugh cleared his throat. “Sir… have you ever seen that old movie—‘Weekend at Bernie’s’?”

Lucian’s face split into a slow grin. “You know, Hugh, I’ve only just met you, but I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

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The Warp Crystal pulsed as the trio emerged just outside Silkmeadow Farms. Lucian and Hugh landed on their feet, supporting Raven between them, each with an arm over her limp form.

“Town seems pretty empty,” Lucian muttered, releasing Raven’s arm without ceremony. She slumped forward, barely reacting as she mumbled something about naptime. Lucian ignored her and took in the village. For a farm this big, it should be crawling with workers.

“I agree,” Hugh said, scanning the area.

Silkmeadow Farms looked like any other rural village—thatch-roofed homes, log walls stacked haphazardly, and doors that looked like they’d collapse with a strong breeze. But there were no people. The houses weren’t abandoned, though—Lucian could feel eyes watching from behind shuttered windows and hear hushed whispers from within.

“Monsters breaching the paths must mean even places like this aren’t safe anymore,” Hugh noted grimly.

Lucian nodded. If the village was in danger, they might pay for help. He was about to knock on one of the doors when Hugh called out.

“Sir! You might want to see this!”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Lucian jogged over, only to freeze at the sight. A trail of blood led right up to the village entrance, a dark, smeared path that zigzagged back and forth like a restless predator.

“Damn,” Lucian muttered. Something wanted to get in, but couldn’t.

His gaze lifted to the village’s outer wall—ten feet tall, made of rough wooden logs, hardly enough to stop a determined beast. So why did it stop here? Then, he saw it.

The air above the walls shimmered—a barely perceptible ripple, like heat waves rising off hot pavement. “Hey, do you see that?” Lucian called out. “Some kind of barrier?”

Hugh squinted, adjusting his enchanted monocle. “I’m not sure, sir.”

Raven, stirring at last, groaned. “Ugh. You two are so loud. People are trying to sleep.”

Lucian rolled his eyes. Why did I bring her again?

“Maybe the village description will tell us something?” Hugh suggested.

“Village description?” Lucian echoed.

“It should be in your menu, under the World Map tab.”

Lucian swiped open his [Menu], tapping on [World Map] as he mumbled, “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with…”

[World Map]

[Points of Interest]

[Provera]

[Grandia]

[Silkmeadow Farms]

Expanding the [World Map], he found Silkmeadow Farms now listed under [Points of Interest]. So, it keeps track of where I’ve been. That’s useful. He tapped on it, prompting two options:

[Pin] [Info]

Selecting [Info], he read aloud:

“One of the more lucrative farms supporting Provera, Silkmeadow Farms is the third most prolific silk exporter to be owned by a local. Despite ranking third in production, it produces the finest silk in the land, thanks to its free-range silk squirrels. Each squirrel produces up to a pound of silk in its lifetime, increasing yield during mating season. ‘Meadow Silk’, the resulting product, is highly valued in trade, crafting high-quality items, or as an extravagant gift.”

Lucian squinted at the text, unimpressed. “Okay, neat. But this tells us nothing about that shimmering barrier.”

“Alas, it does not,” Hugh admitted. “Still, interesting lore, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lucian’s gaze lingered on one particular line. Crafting of high-quality items. “Very interesting indeed,” he mused.

“Cha-ching,” Raven mumbled.

Lucian shot her a look. “Go back to sleep.”

“Gladly,” she sighed, head lolling against Hugh’s shoulder. Hugh shifted his grip, adjusting Raven’s weight with surprising ease. “Shall we proceed, sir?”

Lucian nodded, and they followed the trail of blood into the unknown, the promise of their first completed contract as a group leading them forward.

For a while, the only sounds were the chirps of birds and the distant buzz of insects. The scent of damp earth and old foliage clung to the air, the path narrowing as they moved deeper into the wilderness.

Lucian glanced at Hugh, who was practically jogging with Raven deadweight on his back. The Enchanter’s breath was steady, but the slight huff with each step didn’t go unnoticed. Lucian smirked. He won’t admit it, but I bet he’s feeling it. Still, he knew Hugh could handle it. They’d endured worse back in basic training. Should I give him a hand? Lucian considered it for a moment, then shrugged. Nah. He’ll be fine. Plus, I need to keep fresh in case we come across a monster.

“You see that up ahead, sir?” Hugh pointed out what looked like a carriage as they walked up to a bend on the path.

“Looks like we found the client’s caravan,” said Lucian as they walked closer. Upon reaching the carriage, Lucian and Hugh stood in tense silence, taking in the aftermath of the ambush.

The carriage lay overturned, its splintered wood jutting outward like broken ribs. The door swayed slightly, creaking in protest against the wind. A lifeless hand dangled from within, fingers curled in a half-clenched grasp—a final, desperate effort to hold onto life. Lucian’s gut twisted. This wasn’t just a monster attack. It was a massacre.

The air reeked of iron, the heavy scent of blood and crushed foliage mixing into an acrid stench. Two more splotches of carnage marked the ground on opposite sides of the carriage, remnants of the doomed attempts to escape. Their owners had likely tried to flee, believing the carriage would draw the beast’s focus.

They were wrong.

The underbrush to the right helped explain the brutality of the attack. Lucian narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. Thick, overgrown vegetation choked the landscape, forcing a path into a tight curve. A perfect chokepoint. The carriage would’ve had to slow down, making it an easy target. Meanwhile, whatever lurked inside the undergrowth had the advantage of cover and timing.

Lucian crouched, tracing the disturbed earth. A clear trail of crushed foliage and clawed earth led into the brush, where the soil darkened, fresh blood soaking into the roots.

“You see that, Hugh?” Lucian gestured toward the path carved into the greenery.

“I see it, sir.” Hugh’s voice was even, but his hand twitched near his belt—instinctively ready to draw a defensive enchantment. “Think it lives up there?” he asked, following the tracks with his eyes.

Lucian exhaled sharply as he tapped his boot against the underbrush, testing its stability. Would it hold weight? Or would it give way into something deeper… something waiting below? “Or underneath. Hold on, let me try something,” Lucian muttered as he opened his [Menu].

[Main Menu]

HP: 20/20

Mana: 17/17

[Stats]

[Inventory]

[Equipment]

[Abilities]

[Spells]

[Field Skills]

[Trade]

[Journal]

[World Map]

He tapped [Field Skills] and [Crafting]. I think I remember seeing something nonsensical… Ah, here it is!

[Crafting]

[Stone] — [Pebble 7]

When Lucian first saw this crafting option, he questioned why it even existed. Now, it seemed like the system was putting him in the most niche situations just to make him eat his words. He tapped on [Stone], and after a familiar chime, it appeared in his [Inventory], ready for use.

A stone should be heavy enough to test the undergrowth. He tossed the object onto the forest floor, watching as it sank through the tangled vegetation. As he suspected, the creature wasn’t just hiding in the underbrush—it was living in it.

“This is it, isn’t it, sir?” Hugh asked, his tone careful. “Because if it is, I think it’s best if she stays out of sight.”

Lucian glanced over at Raven, who was still peacefully snoozing, oblivious to the fact that they were standing on the doorstep of a monster with a confirmed body count. Leave her behind while we do all the work? Not happening.

“Nah, just set her down here. I’ll wake her up,” Lucian told Hugh. “While I do that—what exactly can you do for me as an Enchanter?”

Hugh brightened. “Many things, sir!” he said as he gently lowered Raven onto the ground. “Though I imagine you’d like me to imbue your equipment with elemental magic?”

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “Equipment, not just weapons?”

“Weapons are included, of course,” Hugh replied. “But the system allows me to enchant anything an adventurer uses or wears.”

Lucian paused, considering his options. The obvious choice would be enchanting his weapon—who wouldn’t want extra elemental damage? But if any of his equipment could be enchanted…

“Could you enchant this?” He held up his Master Shield.

Hugh studied it curiously. “Your shield, sir?”

“Yeah, I think it suits my fighting style better.”

Hugh nodded. “If you say so.” He took the shield and moved off to a clear spot, laying down a leather mat before retrieving a thick, leather-bound book.

Meanwhile, Lucian crouched next to Raven and tapped her shoulder. “Hey, wake up. We’re here. Time to kill something.”

Raven groaned, swatting lazily at his hand. “Five more minutes.”

“We’ll be done in five minutes,” Lucian countered. “But if you don’t contribute, you’re getting zero Gold to spend at the bar.”

That did the trick. One eye cracked open, squinting at him. “You lie,” she mumbled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You think I won’t?” Lucian challenged, crossing his arms. “Stay here and find out. Hugh and I will split the reward ourselves.”

With a loud groan, Raven finally willed herself to stand—slowly and unsteadily. “Fine, you win.”

Hugh watched her with obvious skepticism. “Are you sure it’s wise to bring her along, sir?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Lucian said with confidence. “No way she’d let herself die before adding more to her bar tab, right?”

“Shut up,” Raven grumbled, pulling a longsword seemingly out of thin air. “I abhor you right now.”

Lucian smirked. Now you know how I feel. “Now that that’s settled, Hugh, are you done over there?”

“Not yet, sir!” Hugh called back. “What type of element would you like, by the way?”

Before Lucian could answer, Raven’s sword ignited with a brilliant orange flame. The blade itself vanished, replaced by a shifting inferno that danced and flickered with the wind. Just as he remembered—it had no fixed form, just pure, untamed fire swirling above its hilt.

Lucian whistled. “Fire seems nice. Most things are weak to fire, right? Yeah, they are.”

“A fire enchantment it is, then,” Hugh confirmed, returning his focus to the shield resting atop the leather scroll he had spread out. “Focus on how fire behaves… Feel the heat radiating from it… Work it into the shield…” he murmured, hands hovering over the metal as a bright red glow pulsed from his leather-bound book.

Lucian watched as tendrils of fiery energy seeped into his Master Shield, drawn into the silver wolf emblem at its center. The once-orange glow deepened into crimson, its intensity simmering like molten steel. With a final hum of magic, Hugh snapped his book shut. “There you have it, sir. The enchantment will last for the next hour.”

Lucian picked up the shield, turning it over in his hands. “Huh.” He frowned slightly. “Did-did you actually do anything? Feels the same.”

Hugh, already dematerializing his supplies into his [Inventory], arched an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t return it to you if I hadn’t, sir. Is it not to your liking?”

“Nah, it’s not that.” Lucian glanced at Raven. “It’s just… look at her sword. I can feel the heat coming off that thing from here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a badass,” Raven declared smugly. She opened her mouth to add something else—but then stopped. A strangled sound caught in her throat, her body stiffening unnaturally. Lucian’s stomach dropped.

Raven looked down. Her eyes widened. Long, black claws protruded from her neck, slick with blood.

No. The fire drained from his limbs, replaced by something colder, deeper.

“Raven!”

She collapsed to the ground.

Behind her, licking the crimson from its nails, stood a winged figure—almost human, but wrong in every way. Its jaw stretched too wide, filled with jagged, wicked fangs. Wrinkled, leathery skin twisted as it sneered, eyes gleaming with malice. Then, with a single beat of its wings, it lunged straight for Hugh.

Lucian’s body moved before his mind could catch up. Instinct took over, his legs springing into action. He shoved himself between Hugh and the creature, raising his shield just in time.

CLANG!

The beast’s claws met enchanted metal with a deafening impact. The shield shuddered in his grip, heat pulsing up his arm like liquid fire. A crimson glow flared across the wolf emblem, crackling with energy—the enchantment responding on instinct. Sparks erupted as the attack was halted mid-air. Lucian stared it down, jaw clenched. “Nope,” he said coolly. “Me first.”