Chương 50: Where the Shadows Come From

When Mr. Ashford had first told them there might still be survivors here, Rayne and the others had held on to a faint glimmer of hope. However, the moment the doors of the almshouse were finally pushed open, that last trace of wishful thinking vanished. Before them lay an enormous hall. Countless pitch-black figures wandered aimlessly within. At a glance, they seemed to fill nearly every corner of the vast space. Rayne and the others nearly fell into battle stances on instinct.

"Whoa... what the hell is this place?" Tyren stared blankly into the almshouse, then could not help looking back at the street outside. Only a few black shadows wandered here and there along the street. Inside this hall, however, dark figures were moving everywhere.

"That Ashford guy... he didn't trick us into walking straight into a trap, did he?" Tyren muttered under his breath. This time, no one immediately contradicted him. The place before them simply looked far too unnatural. As Rayne took in the sight, he could almost imagine how terrifying this place would become once the bell actually rang. Fortunately, before that happened, the black shadows were like phantoms from another world. They could not interact with the party at all.

"Where did all these things come from?" Puzzled, Asar approached one of the shadows and cautiously reached out. The instant his fingertips touched it, he felt only a wave of cold. The next moment, his hand passed straight through the shadow without the slightest resistance. Asar pulled his hand back and examined it carefully. It was completely clean. Not a single mark had been left behind. Rayne remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly.

"Whatever they are, stay alert."

"If Ashford specifically told us to investigate this place, he must have had a reason." He raised his head and looked toward the dim corridor at the far end of the hall.

"The survivors might be hiding somewhere deeper inside." Serin stood nearby and nodded solemnly.

"Didn't the guard at the town entrance say there were still six full days before the next bell?" Tyren added, his tone noticeably more relaxed.

"So don't worry. As long as there aren't any of those Desiccated Guards from the streets in here, this place probably isn't dangerous." Rayne did not respond immediately. He looked at each of his companions in turn. Once he confirmed that none of them intended to withdraw, he gave a slight nod.

"Then let's take a look." The group re-formed and began exploring deeper into the almshouse, with Barton taking the lead. Visibility inside was poor. Rayne and the others had no choice but to strike a flint and light their torches. Dim yellow firelight flickered through the corridors, barely illuminating a small area ahead. For safety, the group decided to stay together rather than split up to search. They followed the first-floor corridor farther inside.

Aside from the black shadows wandering back and forth, all they saw along the way were old, broken belongings scattered across the floor. Overturned wooden chairs, shattered clay bowls, and garments that had long since rotted away all proved that many people had once lived here. However, every trace was extremely old. There were no fresh footprints on the dust-covered floor, nor did any of the scattered objects appear to have been disturbed recently.

It seemed that no living person had moved through this almshouse for a very long time. Neither the first-floor dining hall nor the large dormitory packed with beds contained even a single survivor. There were plenty of shadows, though. Tyren casually righted an overturned wooden chair, brushed off the dust, and dropped onto it. The old chair gave a teeth-grating creak, as though it might collapse at any moment.

"Looks like there's nothing left to find on the first floor." Just then, a rapid, uneven barrage of footsteps came from the floor above them. Thud, thud, thud—! It sounded as though something were sprinting along the second-floor corridor. With every heavy impact, fine dust sifted steadily down from the ceiling. Tyren practically launched himself out of the chair. Rayne and Asar drew their weapons at once, while Barton hurried to the doorway and planted himself there with his shield raised across his body.

However, the vibrations from upstairs soon began to recede. The hurried footsteps raced along the second-floor corridor, moving farther and farther away before disappearing into the depths of the almshouse. A moment later, faint human voices drifted from somewhere in the distance.

"Survivors?" Tyren whispered.

"I don't know." Rayne kept his eyes fixed on the dim corridor beyond the doorway.

"Don't do anything reckless yet." They waited a little longer, but no further sound came from upstairs. For safety, Rayne had Barton take the lead again. He intended to withdraw from the almshouse first, then discuss what they should do next. However, the group had barely reached the doorway when the clear chime of a handbell suddenly rang from deep within the second floor. Chime—! Rayne's footsteps stopped abruptly. An intense sense of unease surged through him. He looked back.

Directly behind Tyren, the previously blurred and insubstantial shadow was gradually becoming solid as the bell rang. Distinct limbs slowly emerged from its pitch-black outline. Two points of crimson light appeared where its head should have been. It was exactly the same as when the bell had rung in Graywood Town during their previous expedition. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Tyren! Behind you!" At Rayne's warning, Tyren did not look back. He did not hesitate for even an instant. He threw himself forward and hit the floor. In the next moment, the shadow behind him brought both arms crashing down. Bang! The wooden chair Tyren had been sitting on shattered on the spot, spraying broken splinters in every direction.

"Fuck! These damned things really know how to catch you off guard!" Still complaining, Tyren quickly rolled back onto his feet. Before the shadow could attack again, he held his slender dagger in a reverse grip and drove it viciously between the two crimson lights in its head. The shadow's body convulsed. Its solid black outline rapidly collapsed, dissolving into strands of dark mist that vanished into the dim room. Tyren had only just finished off the shadow when Barton's low voice came from the doorway.

"Outside."

"A lot." Alarm flashed across their faces as they hurried to the doorway. The shadows that had originally wandered through the corridor and hall were all beginning to stir. One pitch-black figure after another gradually solidified, while crimson light appeared within each of their heads.

"It was that bell!" Tyren said through clenched teeth, tightening his grip on his dagger.

"That thing has to be responsible!" Rayne stared grimly into the depths of the corridor.

"Yeah. We just don't know where the thing ringing that bell is hiding." He made a decision.

"Barton, hold the front."

"Everyone else, stay close. We'll push forward slowly along the corridor." Barton planted his greatshield firmly in front of him.

"Got it." However, after the group quickly dealt with the first few shadows, several armed figures emerged from farther down the corridor. Their outlines were far more solid than those of the ordinary shadows. They carried longswords and shields, making them look remarkably similar to the Desiccated Guards elsewhere in Graywood Town. One sword-wielding shadow charged first, bringing its longsword down heavily upon Barton. Clang! The blade struck the face of his shield with a piercing metallic crash.

Barton stood firm. His body did not so much as sway. Even so, the force transmitted through the shield told him something was wrong.

"These ones are different." Rayne's expression grew more serious. These armed shadows were far stronger than ordinary White Porcelain-level enemies. They possessed at least Black Iron-level strength. Fortunately, there were not many of the armed shadows. For the moment, Rayne and the others could still hold their formation. Just then, Tyren noticed something moving overhead. He looked up and saw black matter oozing through the cracks in the ceiling.

As it struck the floor, it quickly gathered into one humanoid outline after another. Worse, it was falling all around the party. Tyren's expression changed.

"Careful! Those things are dropping from above!" Tyren slung his shortbow over his shoulder and drew the dagger at his waist. Before the shadows could fully form, he struck first, piercing them one after another. Fortunately, the ordinary shadows were extremely fragile. Dealing with them did not require much effort.

"Leave the rear to us! You focus on the front!" Tyren lunged toward a mass of shadow that had just landed. His dagger shot forward, piercing straight through its half-formed head.

"I'll call out if we can't hold them!"

"Got it!" The party slowly cleared the shadows around them while maintaining their formation. At that moment, the handbell rang again from deep within the second floor. Chime—! As the sound spread, a dark-red glow seeped into the outlines of the surrounding shadows. Their movements also became noticeably faster.

"There are too many!" Rayne swung one of his swords and forced back a shadow lunging straight at him.

"We either find the source of that bell, or we get out of the almshouse immediately!" As the words left his mouth, he surged forward. The two swords in his hands flashed one after another, rapidly cutting apart several shadows blocking the way. Asar darted past him, driving his longsword precisely through a shadow's throat and helping Rayne tear open a path through the horde.

"Move!" Barton roared. Rayne and Asar pressed themselves against the walls on either side. In the next instant, Barton braced his shield in front of him and charged forward with a low growl. Ordinary shadows blocking the way were smashed apart one after another. Even several armed shadows were forcibly driven backward by his advance.

"Tyren! We're moving!" Tyren quickly finished off the last half-formed shadow beside him with his dagger, then grabbed Serin and followed behind the group as they withdrew toward the hall. However, black matter continued pouring endlessly from the cracks overhead. Seeing that the shadows behind them were about to finish taking shape, Tyren lightly patted Serin on the back.

"You go first. I'll catch up." He released her hand, put away his dagger, and swiftly pulled the shortbow from his back. The bowstring thrummed several times in succession. Ordinary arrows struck the heads of the still-forming shadows with perfect accuracy, scattering them before they could fully take shape.

"Be careful." Serin raised a hand and cast a layer of Pure White Ward over him before turning to catch up with Rayne and Asar. When Barton stepped into the hall, the sight before him left him frozen in place. When they had first entered, the shadows had all been minding their own business. Even with so many of them, they had not seemed especially dangerous. Now, however, every shadow had fallen under the bell's control. Countless pairs of crimson eyes turned toward Barton at the same time and locked onto him.

Barton swallowed despite himself. Cold sweat quickly beaded across his forehead.

"... That scared the hell out of me." Then his gaze shifted toward the exit. At some point, the doors they had left open had somehow shut tight. Damn it. He had no idea whether they could be opened again.

"Captain, what do we do?" Rayne swung both swords, cutting two approaching shadows in half, and shouted without looking back.

"Get to the doors!"

"See if you can ram them open!" Barton gave a sharp nod. He advanced slowly toward the entrance, swinging his shield to knock aside every shadow that came near. Tyren caught up with the party at that moment. He guarded the rear, firing arrow after arrow to destroy the shadows squeezing down through the cracks in the ceiling. A distance they could normally have crossed in less than thirty seconds took them nearly three full minutes.

And those were three minutes spent with every nerve stretched taut, without a single moment to relax. For the first time, Rayne realized just how long a few short minutes could feel. Even more infuriatingly, none of these damned shadows dropped anything. Forget complete magic crystals. After fighting for this long, they had not seen so much as a single magic crystal shard. Wasn't that a little too stingy? Rayne panted heavily, but the two swords in his hands never stopped moving.

Beside him, Asar continued swinging his longsword as well, though his movements had slowed since the beginning of the fight. Rayne was still wearing the Gulan Orchid Ring that Ashford had given him. Without the ring continuously easing his fatigue, he would probably have been only slightly better off than Asar by now. Just then, the heavy sound of Barton ramming his shield into the wooden doors came from behind them. Bang! Bang! Bang!

After several consecutive impacts, Barton's anxious voice finally rang out from the rear.

"They won't open!" Everyone's heart sank. It seemed this almshouse truly was a trap that allowed entry but no escape. Still, Ashford probably had not deliberately lured them inside to die... The thought had barely crossed Rayne's mind before he pushed it aside. He had no time to think about such things now. All he could do was tighten his grip on both swords and focus on the endless shadows surging toward him. Suddenly, another burst of hurried footsteps came from the second floor. Rayne looked up instinctively.

A Graywood Town guard was stumbling along the corridor, his expression terrified, as though something dreadful were pursuing him. A second later, Rayne saw the creature chasing him. His pupils contracted to pinpoints. It was a twisted monster unlike anything he had ever seen before. The creature was tall but hunched, its body draped in a tattered black cloak. Its exposed face resembled that of a dying old woman, with wrinkled skin stretched tight over the bones and lips pulled into a horrifying grin.

It lunged forward. Both of its gaunt, unnaturally long arms shot out at once and snatched the guard off his feet. Only then did Rayne notice a third arm protruding from the creature's back. It was smaller and even more withered than the others. A tiny handbell hung from its fingers. The creature let out a string of eerie chuckles. Then its smaller arm slowly extended toward the guard's face and gave the handbell a gentle shake. Chime—!

"L-let me go! Help me—!" The guard let out a piercing scream and began struggling wildly. The sight was so horrifying that Rayne and the others nearly froze mid-motion. But what came next truly made their skin crawl. As the bell rang, the guard's body suddenly began convulsing violently. Strands of pale-blue mist were forcibly pulled from within him. Rayne had no idea what it was. Even so, the instant he witnessed it, a chill shot straight up his spine.

Serin's face turned deathly pale, and her legs began trembling uncontrollably. The guard's convulsions grew more violent. Then a pitch-black, mudlike substance began seeping from his skin, rapidly covering his entire body. Before long, nothing remained of the guard's original appearance. He had become a new shadow, swaying unsteadily as he rose to his feet. Tyren's scalp prickled at the sight.

"Fuck!"

"There is no fucking way I'm letting that thing catch me!" Only then did Rayne and the others understand where all these shadows had come from. ◆ ◆ ◆ Inside the Core Chamber, Owen quietly pressed himself against the screen. Looking at the terror on Rayne and the others' faces, he could not help swaying his core.

"Heh heh."

"Scared you, didn't it?" The guard who had just been captured was not a genuine survivor living in Graywood Town. He was an automatically generated event unit within the almshouse. The first time someone triggered the almshouse's bell, the guard would follow a preset route through the second-floor corridor before being transformed into a new shadow in front of the challengers. It served only one purpose: to let anyone who entered see for themselves exactly where those shadows came from.

Owen extended his perception and pulled up the monster's information. [Bellringer's Scion] [Rank: Low Silver] [Special Ability: Shadecalling Bell] [When the bell is rung, all Death Shades within Graywood Almshouse will materialize. Each subsequent ringing will further increase their speed and aggression.] [Targets seized by the Bellringer's Scion will appear to have their souls extracted and their bodies consumed by shadow before ultimately transforming into Death Shades.] [This effect does not actually extract an adventurer's soul.] [The sensory pain inflicted on adventurers during the transformation has been greatly reduced.] [This ability can only take effect within Graywood Almshouse.] Its special ability was inherited from a genuine monster with Gold-level strength. However, both its effective range and the efficiency of its transformations had been weakened considerably.

"Don't worry." Owen offered what he considered a thoughtful reassurance as he watched their tense expressions on the screen.

"This is already the weakened version."

"And as long as it doesn't catch you, there's absolutely nothing to worry about!" Owen suddenly paused. On the screen, the Bellringer's Scion slowly turned its aged, twisted face toward the party. It released the guard it had just finished transforming, dropped onto all fours, and began crawling along the second-floor corridor toward Rayne and the others. Owen seemed to remember something. He gave an awkward chuckle.

"So... good luck running away."