Chapter 5: Worst Nigtmare
Determined, Alexander decided to seek help from neighboring villages and any wandering adventurers he could find. He knew it was a long shot, but he had no other choice. He couldn't let Marjorie and the others remain in the hands of the bandits.
With a small pack on his back and a makeshift sword at his side, Alexander set out at dawn. The road ahead was uncertain, but he had to try. He owed it to Marjorie and the others, but also to himself. He had to prove that he could make a difference in this world.
The morning air was crisp and cool, the sky tinged with the soft hues of dawn. Alexander walked with purpose, his steps steady and determined. The path to the neighboring village of Eldenwood was long and winding, cutting through dense forests and rolling hills. As he walked, Alexander couldn't help but think about his life back on Earth, his ailing mother, and the sister who had to bear the burden of their mother's care alone. This added fuel to his resolve; he couldn't let the only person who had shown him kindness in this new world suffer.
Hours passed, and Alexander finally reached Eldenwood. The village was quiet, with people going about their daily tasks. He approached the village center and called out to the gathered villagers.
"Please, I need your help! Bandits attacked my village and took several people, including my mother. Will anyone help me save them?"
The villagers looked at him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. An older man with a perpetual smile stepped forward. His smile, however, did not reach his eyes, which reminded Alexander of the Joker's grin.
"And why should we risk our lives for strangers?" the man asked, his tone mocking. "What good would it do us?"
Alexander took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. "Because it's the right thing to do. These bandits are terrorizing innocent people. If we don't stand together, they'll just keep doing it. Today it's my village, but tomorrow it could be yours."
The man's smile widened, but his eyes remained cold. "Right thing to do? You think words like that mean anything out here? We have our own problems to deal with. Besides, what can a bunch of villagers do against armed bandits?"
A younger woman, carrying a basket of vegetables, stepped forward. "He's right. We're barely surviving ourselves. We can't afford to get involved in someone else's fight."
"But what about the children?" Alexander pleaded. "What if it were your families taken by these bandits?"
The older man laughed, a harsh sound that made Alexander's skin crawl. "Our families know better than to get caught. Your village was weak, and now you pay the price. That's how it works."
Alexander's heart sank. "So you're just going to turn your backs? What kind of people are you?"
A burly blacksmith, his arms covered in soot and sweat, spoke up. "We're people trying to stay alive. It's not our fight. Go find some adventurers or mercenaries if you want to play hero."
Despair washed over Alexander as he looked around at the indifferent faces. "Please," he said, his voice breaking. "I'll do anything. I just need help."
The older man with the joker's grin stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Leave now, boy, before you cause more trouble than you're worth."
Heartbroken and desperate, Alexander left Eldenwood and wandered aimlessly. His mind was a storm of worry and frustration, and he barely noticed as the path beneath his feet grew narrower and the trees denser. The forest surrounding Eldenwood was a place of both beauty and danger, filled with thick underbrush and towering trees that blocked out the sunlight.
The forest was known for its wildlife and the occasional sighting of dangerous creatures. Locals warned travelers to stick to the paths, but Alexander's thoughts were far from his surroundings. He replayed the events in his mind: the bandits, Marjorie's capture, the villagers' refusal to help. He felt utterly alone.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when he strayed off the path and into the deeper parts of the forest. The sunlight dimmed as the canopy above grew thicker, casting eerie shadows on the ground. The air grew cooler, and the forest seemed to close in around him. Vines and roots twisted and curled across the forest floor, creating a maze-like terrain that was easy to get lost in.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the trees, breaking the oppressive silence. Alexander froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The growl was unlike anything he had heard before—deep, menacing, and filled with an unmistakable threat. He turned slowly, his eyes scanning the dense undergrowth.
Out of the darkness emerged a Nightshade Prowler, a terrifying creature that looked like a bear with the speed and agility of a jaguar. Its fur was dark and mottled, blending seamlessly with the shadows, and its eyes glowed with a predatory light, reflecting the faintest glimmers of ambient light.
The Nightshade Prowler was a creature known to all who lived near the forest, feared for its stealth and ferocity. Stories told of its ability to stalk its prey for hours, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Its claws were long and razor-sharp, capable of rending flesh and bone with ease. Its jaws, filled with rows of dagger-like teeth, could crush even the sturdiest of shields.
Alexander had never seen anything as terrifying as the Nightshade Prowler in real life before. Back on Earth, he had only experienced creatures and monsters through screens and the internet. But now, he was face-to-face with this massive, evil-looking beast.
The Prowler towered over him at least 7 to 10 feet tall. Its black fur seemed to suck in all light, making it look sinister. Its glowing red eyes stared straight at Alexander with a hungry intensity. Its huge claws could easily tear him apart.
But worst of all was the deep sense of malice and bloodlust pouring off the creature. Alexander could feel its desire to kill seeping into his mind, leaving him frozen in fear.
All the fictional monsters and anime characters he had obsessed over now seemed childish compared to this nightmarish beast. Alexander realized no amount of gaming could have prepared him for the primal, gut-wrenching terror he felt confronting the Nightshade Prowler in the flesh.
Alexander understood how small and weak he really was. He opened his mouth to scream, but could only let out a whimper. This was true horror far beyond anything he had experienced before.
Now, faced with a creature far more terrifying than any he had imagined, he was gripped with fear. The sheer killing intent emanating from the Nightshade Prowler paralyzed him.
The beast circled him, its movements fluid and almost graceful, its eyes never leaving his. Then, with a swift and powerful swipe of its claws, the Prowler struck. Alexander was flung backward by the sheer force of the blow, a deep wound opening up across his chest. Pain exploded through him as he flew through the air, crashing into a tree. The impact caused his head to slam against the rough bark, and darkness quickly swallowed his consciousness.
As the Nightshade Prowler approached to finish him off, a group of five adventurers—two men and three women—arrived just in time. They burst through the trees, weapons drawn, ready to fight the beast.
"Get away from him!" shouted one of the men, a tall, muscular figure wielding a large sword. He charged at the Prowler, striking with precision and force.
The other man, armed with a bow, loosed arrows that flew true, hitting the beast and drawing its attention away from Alexander. The three women, each wielding different weapons—a spear, a pair of daggers, and a staff—surrounded the Nightshade Prowler, coordinating their attacks to confuse and overwhelm it.
The battle was fierce, the adventurers working together with practiced skill. The Nightshade Prowler fought back ferociously, but it was outnumbered and outmatched. The adventurers' relentless assault soon wore it down. The beast finally collapsed, defeated, its dark form sprawled lifeless on the forest floor.
One of the women, a healer with a staff, immediately rushed to Alexander's side. She knelt beside him, her hands glowing with a soft, healing light. "He's badly hurt"" she said, her voice agitated and worried.