Grayhold emerged from the dense forest like a festering wound, its crumbling stone walls strangled by creeping vines. Once a prosperous trading hub, the ruins were now a den of corruption. Faint, flickering lights moved between the buildings—cultists patrolling their territory, the shadows cast by their torches dancing like specters.
Veiss crouched on a ridge overlooking the city, his eye narrowing as he assessed their numbers. The air was heavy with the smell of rot, and an eerie hum, like the droning of a thousand flies, echoed from deep within the ruins.
"They're dug in tight," he muttered, glancing back at Lyris.
The assassin knelt beside him, her twin blades glinting faintly in the dim light. "Of course they are. The cult doesn't abandon a place like this unless they've stripped it of everything valuable—or until it collapses under its own filth."
Veiss didn't respond. His gaze shifted to Kaela, who huddled behind them, her small frame trembling. She stared at the ruins, her wide eyes glassy and unfocused.
"You alright?" Veiss asked, his voice gruff.
Kaela didn't answer. She seemed entranced, her gaze locked on the tallest structure in the ruins—a massive tower whose upper levels had collapsed, leaving jagged spires of stone reaching toward the Black Sun.
"She feels it," Lyris said quietly, following the girl's gaze.
Veiss frowned. "Feels what?"
"The pull," Lyris replied, her tone distant. "The Black Sun's power is concentrated here. If she's marked like you think she is, she'll be drawn to it."
Veiss cursed under his breath. He didn't like how Lyris talked about Kaela, as though the girl were some kind of magnet for doom. But he couldn't deny the assassin's insight; Kaela had grown more withdrawn the closer they got to Grayhold.
"We move now," Veiss said, rising to his feet. "Stick to the shadows. No unnecessary risks."
Lyris smirked. "You're no fun."
The trio slipped into the ruins under the cover of darkness, weaving between the crumbling buildings. Veiss led the way, his every step deliberate, his hand never straying far from Umbraclaw. Kaela stayed close to him, her small hands clutching the edges of his cloak.
Lyris moved like a shadow, her steps silent as she flitted from cover to cover. She kept her blades drawn, their dark steel absorbing the faint light of the cultists' torches.
They stopped in the shadow of a collapsed archway, Veiss peering around the corner to survey the next street. Three cultists stood guard near a broken fountain, their grotesque masks glinting in the torchlight.
"Three," Veiss murmured.
"I'll take the left," Lyris said, her voice low.
Before Veiss could respond, she was already moving. She slipped behind the cultists like a wraith, her twin blades flashing as she struck. The first guard crumpled without a sound, his throat sliced cleanly. The second turned just in time to see Lyris's blade bury itself in his chest.
The third cultist let out a strangled cry, but Veiss was already there. He grabbed the man by the throat and drove Umbraclaw into his stomach, the jagged blade tearing through flesh and bone.
The body hit the ground with a wet thud, and Veiss turned to glare at Lyris. "I said no unnecessary risks."
Lyris wiped her blades on the cultist's robes, her expression amused. "That wasn't a risk. That was a warm-up."
Veiss didn't bother arguing. He motioned for Kaela to follow, and the three of them continued deeper into the ruins.
The humming sound grew louder as they approached the heart of Grayhold. Veiss's skin crawled with unease, the air growing heavier with each step.
They entered what had once been a marketplace, the ground littered with broken stalls and debris. In the center of the square stood a grotesque monument—a twisted mass of flesh and bone that pulsed faintly with an unnatural light.
Kaela stopped in her tracks, her gaze locked on the monument.
"What is that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"A warning," Lyris said grimly. "The cult likes to leave little… reminders of their power."
Veiss stepped closer, his jaw tightening as he examined the structure. The bones were human, the flesh stitched together with jagged, black veins that writhed like living things. Symbols were carved into the base, the same jagged sigils he had seen in countless villages.
"This is new," he muttered. "They're getting bolder."
Lyris nodded. "And more dangerous. Whatever they're doing here, it's not small."
Kaela took a hesitant step forward, her hand reaching out as though drawn to the monument. Veiss grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not unkind.
"Don't," he said sharply.
Kaela flinched but nodded, stepping back.
The ground beneath the monument began to tremble, a faint vibration that sent ripples through the air. Veiss's instincts screamed at him to move.
"Back," he barked, pulling Kaela with him.
The monument exploded, shards of bone and flesh flying in all directions. From the wreckage emerged a hulking figure—a twisted amalgamation of human and beast, its body stitched together from dozens of corpses. Its glowing eyes locked onto the trio, and it let out a guttural roar that shook the ground.
"Looks like they know we're here," Lyris said, her blades already drawn.
Veiss stepped forward, raising Umbraclaw. "Then let's not disappoint them."