Seemingly phasing through several buildings as it ran straight through town, the bizarre yet horrifying sight of a flaming, skeleton horse evoked a sense of dread. Unfazed as it galloped towards him, Lysander put his legs together and stood at attention while the shrill neighing of the undead creature wailed into the dusk, causing several people in the nearby houses to pop their heads out the doors and windows to see what was the matter. Panicked screaming soon followed.
"You're right on time, Captain, I just arrived myself," Lysander spoke to the horse's rider as they dismounted. Whoever it was, they wore a dark cloak and a hood that obscured their entire head.
"Of course, there isn't a moment to waste," a jarring, otherworldly voice replied, where the figure stood up to reveal themselves to be at least 8 feet in height. "Did you happen to pin down the cultivator's location on the flight down here?"
Uh oh.
"No sir, as I mentioned in my report, he has demonstrated the ability to hide his qi, unfortunately," the dark-armored man sighed with a shrug.
"It is regrettable that you failed to subdue this cultivator, because now we have no idea how strong he's grown," the figure continued. "The damage to this town is still fresh. The official military report stated that the local garrison repelled the hobgoblin attack, but I know I felt that surge of qi energy even from 400 miles away, and luckily for you, I still sense it lingering."
"Really? Well that's great then, here I was thinking that I was due for another scolding," Lysander chuckled. "So he's still here eh? I'd recommend trying any sort of market first, specifically the vegetable stalls."
This was bad. The hooded guy was Lysander's superior, and being that these Royal Magic Corp people were the strongest I'd encountered so far, that wasn't good news for me. If hunting down "cultivators" was their goal, then I had to get as far away from Carverstead as possible. Before I could take off and warn the others, however, I was distracted when the mayor and an escort of 6 soldiers appeared around the corner leading into the plaza.
"Maybe we should have warned the locals that we were popping in," Lysander commented as nearby people continued to flee the area while Soundov's men reared their spears and pointed them towards the two figures.
"I'm the mayor here. What business do you have in Carverstead?" the mayor demanded. "I see you carry the crown seal."
Soundov must have been referring to the silver pin that both Lysander and his superior were wearing. It depicted the strange image of a cow skull wearing a crown.
"We're from the Royal Magic Corp, so yes we're on the same side," Lysander stated as he blazingly walked over to one of the soldiers and sarcastically pushed the tip of his spear down.
"Royal Magic Corp? You lot are the reason why the military is so underfunded now," Soundov scoffed. "We were so shorthanded that we were barely able to ward off the hobgoblin. I don't know what the king is thinking diverting so much of the budget to a handful of mages."
"Perhaps that simply speaks to our effectiveness," the tall, cloaked figure replied. "But anyway, I have a few questions regarding the expulsion of that goblin. Has anyone here seen a corncob doing things that a corncob shouldn't be capable of?"
Uh oh. I watched Soundov's face briefly fall, before straightening up and returning to its unflinching state.
"A corncob? Surely you jest," the mayor grinned. "Is that some sort of code or something? What did you say your name was, anyhow?"
Shrugging, the cloaked figure threw off his robe, revealing black armor similar to Lysander's save for a few modifications. He wore pointed, black boots, and wore tight, black gloves over his hands. A dark cloak scarf sat on top of his shoulders, and hung down over his left side. What left the soldiers and the mayor unnerved, however, was what the mage didn't have. A head.
My zombie vulture shook its head as I leaned down, wondering if the undead eyes were playing a trick on me. Nope, this guy just had no head. Where his neck should have been was a deep, dark hole that was mostly covered by the scarf. On top of that, the vulture's eyes could pick up a strange, purple aura surrounding the figure, and that was on top of the immense kernel energy that my corn body was detecting.
"A headless horseman?" Soundov gasped in disbelief. "I don't believe it, the king banished all the undead to the Grimshire."
"That was the old king. King Adam seems to recognize the value of some of my undead constituents," the ghastly neckless man replied. "My name is Captain Dryden of the Royal Magic Corp, and I will be leading the investigation here. Have you ever heard of a 'cultivator', Mayor?"
"I've heard things," Soundov replied, seemingly still having trouble wrapping his head around the one named Dryden. "People reborn here from another world. At least, that's what the rumors say."
"It's more than that. These people bring with them the ability to amass and cultivate immense power using qi energy," the headless horseman continued. "Hence the name. If unchecked, their power can snowball out of control to the point where they threaten this world. It is only thanks to powerful mages like myself that cultivators don't normally last long after being reborn here."
"Well that's fine and all, but I assure you that you will not need to investigate my town," Soundov said as he crossed his arms. "I will be sure to send a report to your branch should anything arise. Now if you'll excuse me, my people are probably turning in for the night, so—
"Sorry, this wasn't a request," Dryden answered with a snap of his fingers. A dark purple portal that seemed to be made out of flames began to materialize behind him. "Nobody comes, nobody leaves until we complete our investigation. I've surrounded the town with a curse barrier to ensure just that."
"W-what?!" Soundov stammered. "This is outrageous. You can't trap us here."
"Not to worry, Mayor, because unless we find anything, you have nothing to worry about," the headless man explained as he moved a hand around in a circular motion. The portal grew, and a series of hooded figures began to file out of it.
Soundov merely stared in disbelief as his guards raising their spears. This was bad.