Huston's Spirit Power had increased by 0.3, yet he felt no tangible change—no surge of strength, no heightened awareness. What exactly did Spirit Power influence?
"You alright?" Emil's voice pulled him from his daze.
"I'm fine," Huston responded, though his brows remained furrowed. "Just wondering why I passed out."
"I've heard plenty of stories like this before," Emil mused, glancing back at the lake, "but experiencing it firsthand… it's different. There's still so much in this world we don't understand."
Leaving the haunted lake behind, they continued their patrol across the farm's lands. Nothing else seemed amiss.
"When the wedding's over, I'll report this to the Baron," Emil decided, making a mental note of the incident.
Huston thought back to the pale, lifeless face he had glimpsed in the water. A chill ran down his spine. Whatever it was, it wasn't an illusion.
As the sun dipped below the mountains, the sky bathed in hues of gold and crimson. The snow-covered peaks glowed beneath the last light of day.
Then night fell.
The wind picked up, stronger than the night before. It howled through the trees, rattling the shutters like restless fingers clawing at the wood.
"Ooooh… oooooh…"
The crying had returned.
And it was louder.
Lying in bed, Huston ignored the distant wails.
Then—BANG!
The wind slammed against his window, making it shudder in its frame.
"Ooooh… OOOH… AAAAH—!"
A woman's scream tore through the night, sharp and unnatural.
Pain exploded in Huston's head. His vision flickered—black, then white—his mind drowning in a disorienting haze.
"Unknown radiation energy detected. Host under auditory attack. Suggested action: Block hearing."
"Block hearing!" he commanded at once.
Whoosh!
Silence.
The world around him fell eerily still. The pressure in his skull eased, and the pain vanished.
Huston placed a hand against the cold glass of the window. Not even the faintest breeze stirred outside.
It wasn't his imagination.
His mind jolted—What about Emil?
Unlike Huston, Emil didn't have the ability to silence his hearing.
Rushing to the door, he flung it open—Emil's room was empty.
The bedding was still warm. He had left just moments ago.
Heart pounding, Huston hurried downstairs—the main door was wide open.
"Why would Emil go outside in the middle of the night?"
Something wasn't right.
Grabbing his sword and longbow, Huston stepped out into the frigid night.
The farm was silent, save for Massimo's deep, rumbling snores from his cabin.
"That old man sleeps like a rock. No wonder he's survived all these years—he probably never even hears anything."
Huston's stomach twisted with a terrible realization.
The iron gate was broken.
A single sword strike had severed the thick chain that locked it shut.
Emil was gone.
And he had left the farm.
Huston moved swiftly.
His footsteps were light as he raced northward, toward the lake.
It wasn't long before he spotted Emil.
Dressed in simple nightwear, sword in hand, he walked forward with unnatural stiffness.
His destination was clear—the lake.
"Emil!" Huston called out, sprinting toward him.
No response.
"Emil, stop!"
Still nothing.
Huston moved to block his path. That was when he saw Emil's eyes.
They were pitch black.
Huston's breath caught. It was the same as the thing he had seen in the lake.
Yet Emil wasn't reacting—he walked past Huston as if he weren't even there, his steps mindless, controlled.
A cold dread gripped Huston. He moved behind Emil and eyed the nape of his neck.
A precise strike could knock him out.
Huston swung a chopping palm toward his target—
CLANG!
In an instant, Emil's sword flashed, blocking the attack.
He hadn't turned. He hadn't seen it coming.
Yet his reflexes remained perfect.
A puppet… moving on instinct.
The lake was just ahead now. The water lay still, dark, endless.
Emil did not stop.
If he stepped in—he would never return.
Huston clenched his jaw. He had one last option.
He took a deep breath and shouted with all his might—
"MELISSA IS GETTING MARRIED!"
"THE GROOM ISN'T YOU!"
Emil froze.
His body trembled. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak.
The void in his eyes began to recede, a flicker of clarity returning.
He turned to Huston, confusion clouding his face.
"...Why am I here?" Emil murmured.
Huston exhaled sharply, tension draining from his body.
"Because you were bewitched," he said flatly. "You were walking straight into the lake. I couldn't stop you."
Emil's gaze drifted toward the still water. A shadow flickered beneath the surface, just for a moment—
Then, it was gone.
The lake had claimed many before.
Tonight, it had almost claimed Emil.
"This is beyond bizarre," Emil muttered, his face clouded with confusion. "I remember hearing a scream… then everything went dark. The next thing I knew, I was standing here."
Huston exhaled, his suspicions confirmed. It was the scream. Had he not muted his hearing in time, he would have suffered the same fate—both of them would've marched into the depths, never to return.
"What in the abyss lurks beneath this lake?" Huston mused, his gaze locked onto the still, dark waters. "Even knights are helpless against it."
Emil swallowed hard. He had faced countless dangers before, but this—this was different. This was the first time he had lost control of himself.
Then—
SPLASH.
Something stirred in the lake.
"Be ready!" Emil's grip on his sword tightened.
Huston tensed, eyes scanning the rippling surface. His map displayed nothing, yet right before them, emerging from the depths, were two shadowed figures.
Armor glinted in the moonlight.
"Their armor—it's from the castle guard!" Emil realized.
A terrible thought struck Huston. "The missing guards… they never left. They drowned here, trapped beneath the water."
The two figures waded onto the shore. As they stepped forward, the men finally saw them clearly—
Skeletal knights.
Their bodies were nothing but bones, clad in rusted, timeworn armor. Their swords, corroded and cracked, still hung tightly in their bony grips.
And the lake was not done.
More movement.
Three more figures rose from the water, their empty sockets fixed upon the living.
Emil's lips curled into a grin. "Shall we?"
Huston mirrored his excitement, drawing his blade. "I take the left. You take the right."
There was no fear—only anticipation.
This was a battle unlike any they had ever faced.
And neither of them could resist the thrill of testing their steel against the dead.