"Claw, is everything ready?" Alice asked, her voice steady despite the restless night she'd endured. Her sharp eyes scanned the team, her posture firm and commanding.
Claw, a tall, muscular Insectoid and one of the most reliable soldiers in her squad, nodded. "Yes, Vice-Captain. We can set out now," he replied with his usual composure.
"Alright," Alice said, her tone unwavering, though an edge of weariness clung to her words. "Have you all written your wills?"
The atmosphere grew heavier at her question. It was an unspoken tradition among the expeditionary forces—every soldier left behind a will before embarking on a dangerous mission. It was both a ritual and a reminder of the risks they faced, their way of preparing for the worst.
Robert had written his will for the one he loved, every word a heartfelt message he hoped would never have to be read. Claw and Pincer had written theirs for their families, their words full of love and gratitude for those they cherished. Sylvie had written hers for the children in the orphanage she supported, her writing tender and full of quiet hope.
Everyone had written theirs.
Everyone except Alice.
She hadn't even touched her pen.
'Why write one when nothing bad is going to happen?' she told herself. 'I won't die.'
It was a stubborn thought she clung to, a shield against the creeping unease that coiled in her chest. But no matter how much she told herself those words, they felt hollow.
Deep down, she couldn't fully silence the quiet voice of doubt whispering in her mind, the one that told her how fragile even the strongest resolve could be when faced with the unknown.
The team finished their preparations in solemn silence, each carrying the weight of their own fears and hopes. Alice stood at the forefront, her hands clenched tightly as she silently vowed to bring them all back safely.
'No one will have to open those wills,' she thought, forcing herself to believe it.
Klaus, a birdman—a proud race renowned for their exceptional vision, razor-sharp talons, and the elegant wings adorning their backs—approached Alice with purposeful strides. His keen eyes reflected his experience and the responsibility he bore as the leader of the reconnaissance team.
"Vice-Captain," he said, extending a neatly arranged stack of maps toward her. "These cover the entire area leading to the Hydra's location. They include possible shortcuts and known hazards."
"Thank you, Klaus." Alice accepted the maps with a small nod, her voice calm but resolute. She carefully tucked the maps into her backpack, ensuring they were secure. "We're heading out now."
Klaus gave a curt nod, his sharp gaze lingering on her team for a moment, as if silently wishing them luck before retreating to his duties.
At the camp gate, Alice surveyed her team one final time, confirming that everyone was fully equipped and prepared for the perilous journey ahead. Each carried the weight of their task differently—Sylvie hummed softly, trying to lighten the mood, while Robert tightened his grip on his staff, his usual bravado replaced by quiet focus. Claw and Pincer exchanged a few quiet words, double-checking their gear.
"Let's move," Alice said, her voice steady, though the unease from earlier still lingered in the back of her mind.
The team set off, stepping onto the rugged path that wound through dense forests and steep inclines, leading to the Hydra's lair. The journey was as treacherous as they had expected, littered with obstacles both natural and unnatural. Massive boulders blocked narrow passes, and ancient trees twisted together to form near-impenetrable barriers.
Despite the challenges, Klaus's maps proved invaluable. They navigated past hidden sinkholes, avoided a known monster's hunting ground, and found a small, flowing spring to refill their water supplies. With every step forward, the maps shaved off precious time, allowing them to bypass the worst of the terrain.
Though the physical strain was relentless, Alice's team pressed on, each member was driven by the same goal: to retrieve the final piece of the Eclipse Sword and survive the mission unscathed.
As they crested the steep ridge, the full expanse of the landscape stretched out before them. The dense mist that hung over the dark swamp began to thin, revealing what lay hidden behind the ancient trees. But what they saw stopped them in their tracks, their hearts sinking.
The swamp, once rumored to be the Hydra's lair, had been reduced to a charred wasteland. The earth bore the scars of an immense battle—scorched beyond recognition. Blackened tree stumps jutted out like skeletal remains, and the once-murky waters of the swamp had evaporated or been displaced, leaving behind cracked and smoldering ground.
Shockwaves from the destruction had obliterated the terrain, creating craters and fractures in the earth. Broken debris littered the area—shattered boulders, splintered wood, and remnants of what must have been colossal structures that now lay in ruin. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burnt vegetation and sulfur, the remnants of whatever fiery chaos had unfolded here.
Alice gripped her sword tighter, her knuckles whitening as she scanned the scene. "We're too late..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The devastation could only mean one thing: Unknown had been here.
Sylvie stepped forward, her usually lighthearted expression replaced with shock and unease. "What... what could have caused this? The Hydra?"
"It wasn't just the Hydra," Robert said, his voice trembling as he knelt to examine the scorch marks on the ground. "This isn't natural. This level of destruction... it's like a battlefield where no one survived."
"The Death Knight," Alice said, her tone laced with grim certainty. "He's responsible for this."
Claw clenched his fists, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of life. "If he's capable of this much destruction, what chance do we have against him?"
Alice didn't respond immediately. She turned her gaze toward the center of the carnage, where the ground seemed most disturbed, as if the Hydra had made its last stand there. She couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had driven Unknown to such lengths wasn't just a battle—it was a message.
"Let's move," she finally said, her voice firm despite the turmoil within. "We need to investigate. If he's done this, then we have to know why."
The team descended into the ruined swamp, their unease growing with each step, the weight of Unknown's power pressing down on their spirits. The charred remains of the battlefield served as a grim reminder of the enemies they had to face— foes who fought with an intensity that left nothing in their wake.
As they descended further, the monsters emerged, their eyes glowing with fury. The remains of their home were still smoldering, the air thick with the acrid stench of ash and destruction. Driven mad by the loss of their territory, the creatures threw themselves at the intruders with reckless abandon.
"Damn it, these Vampire Bats just won't die!" Robert shouted, his voice tinged with frustration as he released another flurry of blood-tipped arrows. The bats screeched and spiraled down, yet the swarm seemed endless, their wings blotting out what little light filtered through the ancient trees.
Sylvie couldn't resist a jab, her voice light and teasing. "Heh, you're a Vampire, Robert. Why don't you transform into a bat and lead them away?"
Robert shot her an exasperated glance, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Haha, hilarious," he drawled. "If I had that kind of power, I wouldn't be stuck with this second-rate archery gig. The elders back at the manor hoard all the good tricks like their lives depend on it."
"Maybe they just think you're too annoying to share," Sylvie quipped with a smirk.
"Great pep talk," Robert muttered, switching tactics. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he drew the silver blade at his hip and leaped skyward with an elegant twist, slashing through the swirling bats. They shrieked and scattered, their bodies dropping like stones as he landed lightly on his feet, brushing off his coat as if the effort had been trivial.
His triumph was short-lived. The ground trembled ominously as a new wave of enemies surged toward them. "Oh, come on! Now it's Great Crayfish!" he yelled, glaring at the massive, armored crustaceans that clattered toward them, their claws snapping like jagged scythes.
"Hold your positions!" Claw barked, his deep voice cutting through the chaos. The burly spearman stepped forward, planting his weapon firmly into the ground. "Defensive formation, now!"
Alice exchanged a brief glance with Sylvie, who gave a quick nod before raising her staff. A shimmering golden barrier surrounded the team, its glow soft yet impenetrable.
"I'll handle this," Alice said, her voice steady despite the rising tension.
Sylvie paused, her gaze softening. "Be careful," she murmured, though her tone betrayed absolute confidence in Alice's abilities.
Gripping her sword with both hands, Alice stepped beyond the barrier, her golden hair glinting faintly under the filtered light. She inhaled deeply, her magic pulsing as she summoned her strength.
[Moonlight Slash]
Her blade traced a glowing crescent arc in the air, the light rippling outward like a calm yet deadly wave. The energy sliced through the advancing crayfish, scattering them like toy soldiers.
Alice didn't stop. Using the recoil of her first strike, she pivoted gracefully, sending another wave of radiant energy toward the remaining monsters. Even as the swarm thinned, her sharp eyes scanned for any stragglers.
'What was that move he used again?' Her thoughts flickered to Unknown's precise yet brutal style during their last encounter.
[Sweeping Slash]
Mimicking his wide, forceful swing, she poured her strength into a devastating horizontal slash. The ground beneath her feet cracked as the force tore through the crayfish, leaving shattered shells and steaming remnants in its wake.
But as the energy dissipated, a sharp ache shot through her shoulder. She winced, rolling it carefully before muttering under her breath, "This move lacks any finesse—I hate it." Despite the complaint, there was an unmistakable satisfaction in her gaze as she flicked the blood from her sword and sheathed it.
Claw exhaled heavily, propping his spear against his shoulder. "Good thing the Vice-Captain dealt with the Troll earlier and came to assist us, or we'd have been in serious trouble."
Sylvie crossed her arms, her lips quirking in a half-smile. "Hmph. Three warriors struggling against a bunch of oversized seafood—how utterly embarrassing."
Robert groaned, brushing dirt from his cloak. "Come on, Sylvie, cut us some slack. There were a lot of them. Even you'd have had a hard time managing this alone."
Sylvie feigned mock offense, her violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "Please. I would've handled it with elegance and charm to spare."
Alice remained quiet, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips as she listened to their banter. For a fleeting moment, the weight of the upcoming battle lifted, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie. But as her gaze turned back to the path ahead, the lightness faded.
The Hydra's lair loomed closer, and though her team's resolve remained strong, the uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at the edges of her mind. She tightened her grip on her sword.
"Let's keep moving," she said softly and continued to move forward.
The gate leading to the arena where the final piece of the sword was located stood before them, its iron frame twisted and scarred by the passage of time and the destruction that had already taken place.
The massive arena, once a grand structure for combat and trials, had been reduced to ruin. Jagged shards of stone lay scattered across the ground, and smoke curled into the sky like tendrils of a forgotten fire. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt wood and scorched earth, mixing with the faint stench of blood that lingered in the wake of the creature's chaos.
Behind the arena stretched a bottomless abyss—so deep that no matter how far Alice squinted into the dark chasm, she could make out no end. It seemed to consume the very light that dared approach it. The ominous darkness of the abyss stretched on, as if the ground itself had been split open to reveal an eternal pit.
In the center of this desolation, an enormous creature stirred—an abomination of myth. Hydra.
Yet, as Sylvie's eyes scanned the beast, she realized something was wrong.
"Hydra... everyone knows what it looks like. Eight heads, breathing fire, skin as tough as steel, immune to magic, and the ability to regenerate almost instantly," Sylvie murmured, her fingers tracing the words in Klaus's notebook. "It's the stuff of legends. Every adventurer dreams of taking it down."
"Right..." Robert's voice had a tinge of doubt as he squinted at the beast. "But are you sure this is a regular Hydra, Sylvie? I don't know, it looks... different to me."
He motioned toward the creature behind the gate with a dry chuckle. It was a Hydra—but not the one from the legends.
The creature before them was, in some ways, a shadow of the legendary beast. It still had seven heads, each one long and serpentine, but the central head—the one most important in its vicious symbology—was missing. What remained was nothing more than a charred stump, the base blackened and cracked, as though it had been burned out from within.
The Hydra's skin, once impervious to harm, was now marred with countless jagged scars, deep gouges that should have healed by now but hadn't. The once-mighty creature appeared utterly battered, its regeneration severely impaired. The armor along its legs had been destroyed—likely from a previous battle. There were patches where the thick, armored hide had peeled away, leaving exposed, vulnerable flesh underneath.
This Hydra was no longer the fearsome titan of stories. No, it was something far more dangerous now.
It had been gravely injured in a previous battle—one with him. The Unknown.
And though the creature's once-mighty form had been reduced to a mere shadow of itself, it was far from dead. It was resting. Sleeping.
But the moment any fool dared to disturb its slumber, the full wrath of the beast would awaken. And nothing in this world could stand against its fury.
And if they were to fulfill their duty, they needed to defeat it—the foe Unknown had failed to kill.