A stone slab, heavy and veined with moss, yielded with a rough, prolonged groan, like the lament of an ancient creature awakening from a millennial slumber. The air that escaped from the newly revealed blackness of the dungeon entrance was cold, damp, and laden with an odor that struck Sebastian like an invisible slap: wet stone, ancient earth, centuries-old dust… and a sharp, almost sulfurous undertone that irritated his throat and made him wrinkle his nose. It wasn't a natural smell. It was a smell of confinement, of stagnant magic, of decay.
"Here we are," said Roland, in a voice that tried to sound cheerful but failed to conceal a slight tremor. "The entrance to the Dungeon of… well, since nobody knows its real name, the villagers call it 'The Hole'." He paused, as if expecting a reaction.
Sebastian merely swallowed, unable to utter a word. The Hole. A simple, almost vulgar name, but one that, in its crudeness, conveyed a sense of primordial threat.
Markus, with a muffled grunt that could have been either approval or disdain, pushed the slab with his good shoulder, opening the entrance enough for them to pass. The darkness inside seemed to devour the light of their torches, as if it were a living entity, hungry for light and warmth.
"Ladies first?" said Liam, with a crooked smile and a theatrical gesture towards the blackness. It was a joke, of course, but Sebastian found it in poor taste.
Roland gave him a withering look, but said nothing. He lit a torch, its flame flickering and sputtering as it came into contact with the dungeon's stale air, and stepped into the darkness. Markus, with his war hammer ready, followed close behind.
Sebastian, feeling his legs heavy as lead, forced himself to follow them. There's no turning back, he repeated to himself, trying to convince himself. I'm already here. I'm already part of this.
The interior of the dungeon was, as he had imagined, a narrow corridor, roughly carved into the rock. The walls, uneven and covered with a damp patina, oozed water that condensed into small droplets, as if the stone itself were sweating. The uneven floor, strewn with loose pebbles, crunched under their boots with each step, a sound that was amplified in the oppressive silence. And the silence… it was an unnatural silence, an absolute silence, broken only by the occasional drip of water, the whisper of their own breaths, and the distant, almost imperceptible, echo of their footsteps.
"I don't like the feel of this place," Sebastian murmured, more to himself than to the others. His voice sounded strangely muffled, as if the darkness were absorbing the sound.
"No dungeon gives a good feeling, lad," Roland replied, without turning around. His voice, although he tried to sound reassuring, betrayed a certain tension. "But they are full of secrets. And sometimes, those secrets… make up for the risk."
They advanced slowly, cautiously, scrutinizing the gloom with their eyes, waiting for the attack that, they knew, would come sooner or later.
And then, they heard it.
A flutter. A soft sound, almost imperceptible at first, like the rustle of silk against stone. But it grew in intensity, multiplying, until it became a constant hum, a swarm of invisible wings surrounding them.
"What… what is that?" Sebastian asked, his voice broken by fear.
Roland stopped abruptly and raised his torch, trying to illuminate the darkness that enveloped them. "Bats," he said, his voice grim. "But not normal bats."
And then, they saw them.
They weren't the small, harmless creatures that Sebastian knew. They were larger, the size of a cat, and their bodies, thin and angular, were covered in a shiny black fur, as if they were made of polished obsidian. Their wings, membranous and translucent, moved with an unnatural speed, creating a constant, high-pitched hum that drilled into his ears.
But the most disturbing thing was their eyes. They weren't the red, shiny eyes of common bats. They were opaque, black, like two bottomless pits that absorbed the light. And, inside those black pits, Sebastian thought he saw, for an instant, a red glint. A fleeting glint, almost imperceptible, but one that chilled his blood.
"Shadow Bats," Roland said, confirming his worst fears. "Creatures of darkness. They don't like light… but they love blood." He paused, quickly assessing the situation. These were not the common bats one might find in a cave. They were more agile, faster… and, from what he could sense of their behavior, they were not stupid. Agility… maybe thirty. Strength… not much, maybe five. Stamina… low, surely.
"Watch out!" Liam shouted, interrupting his thoughts. "They're attacking!"
And, as if they had been waiting for that signal, the bats swooped down on them.
They didn't attack with claws or fangs, as Sebastian had expected. Instead, they emitted a sharp, piercing shriek, a wave of sound that hit him like an invisible punch.
Sebastian clutched his ears, feeling an intense, throbbing pain. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, dazed and disoriented.
"Sonic attacks!" Roland shouted, his voice strained, trying to make himself heard above the constant hum of the bats. "Cover your ears!"
Markus, with a roar of fury, protected his head with his arms, trying to crush the bats with his hammer. But the creatures were too fast, too agile. They dodged his blows with ease, fluttering around him like crazed shadows.
Liam, despite being injured, tried to defend himself with his daggers. But the sonic attack had affected him more than he wanted to admit. His movements were slow, clumsy, and his attacks missed by inches.
One of the bats, taking advantage of his weakness, lunged at him, emitting another high-pitched shriek. Liam cried out in pain and clutched his head, staggering.
"Liam!" Sebastian shouted, trying to get up, but the pain in his ears was too intense.
Roland, seeing that his companions were in trouble, tried to attract the bats' attention. He brandished his sword, letting out a war cry, and charged at the cloud of creatures.
But the bats, as if they had been waiting for that move, separated, splitting into two groups. One continued to attack Roland, while the other headed towards Sebastian, who was still on the ground, defenseless.
Sebastian, feeling panic rising inside him, tried to crawl backwards, seeking shelter. But it was too late.
The bats swooped down on him, emitting their sharp, piercing shrieks. Sebastian closed his eyes, expecting the pain of bites, of claws…
But the pain didn't come.
Instead, he smelled something.
A familiar smell, a smell that transported him, for an instant, to his small garden, to his cottage, to his quiet and peaceful life.
The smell of mint.
He opened his eyes, surprised, and saw that the bats were writhing in the air, as if they were suffering intense pain. Their shrieks, previously sharp and piercing, were now weak and broken.
And then, they fell.
They fell to the ground, like stones, and lay still.
Sebastian, dazed, looked around. And he saw Roland, standing next to him, with a small leather pouch in his hand. A pouch from which emanated an intense smell of mint.
"What… what happened?" Sebastian asked, his voice trembling.
"Wolfsbane mint," Roland replied, with a tired smile. "A plant that grows in the mountains. Bats hate it. Its smell disorients them, weakens them… kills them."
Sebastian looked at the dead bats, with a mixture of relief and amazement. "I… I didn't know," he said.
Roland shrugged. "Not everyone knows," he said. "It's… specialized knowledge." He paused, and his expression turned serious. "But now, lad, we need to tend to our wounds. And fast."
He pointed to Markus, who had collapsed against the wall, his injured leg bleeding profusely, and to Liam, who was staggering, his face pale and his left arm covered in blood.
The battle was over. But the real test, the test of survival, had just begun. And Sebastian, the simple herbalist, found himself, once again, at the center of it all. This time, his limited knowledge of plants, might make a difference.