Chapter Ninety-Five: Nasa, Daken, Fero

After nearly three days of walking through the forest, a grayish-white expanse gradually appeared before the group. Veil gently caught a wisp of drifting mist beside him, sighed quietly, and his lips twitched as he murmured two words: “The Mist Zone…”

He was well aware of just how perilous this Mist Zone was, and how terrifying those undead creatures from the Demon Realm could be. Yet, in the end, Veil still followed Skano and his companions into the mist. Thinking back to what Skano had said to him, Veil could still feel the anger burning in his heart.

“Ordinary people, after hearing what I have to say about the Demon Realm, instinctively feel a sense of dread and would rather die than enter the Mist Zone. But you’re different, kid. Your skin is so thick it’s astonishing! I’ve warned you several times, told you how dangerous that place is, advised you not to go, but you just love running headlong into danger, acting like a scoundrel! Shameless! You begged and pleaded until I finally agreed to bring you along. Sigh… I’ve seen shameless folks before, but never anyone quite like you!” — quoted from Skano himself.

“Damn! That bastard made it sound so noble, but he’d planned it all along! When did I ever have a penchant for courting danger? It was that old fool who told me the artifact I’m searching for is in the Mist Zone! He tempted me relentlessly from the start, and now he’s pretending to be the good guy?” Veil cursed inwardly—not because he lacked the courage to speak aloud, but because they had already entered the heart of the Mist Zone, where undead abominations could appear at any moment. Besides, with Skano’s uncanny abilities, he could probably sense whatever Veil was thinking anyway.

Veil, wickedly scheming in his mind, soon forgot his displeasure. With nothing better to do along the way, he cursed Skano silently, and whenever Skano’s face darkened, Veil would steal a glance and chuckle to himself—how satisfying!

Among those who entered the Mist Zone, aside from Skano, Nasa, Darken, Fero, and a dozen other beastfolk, Veil was the only human. Buck had been left behind, for it was much safer to remain in Massan than to brave the Mist Zone, and with his broken beastfolk tongue and Skano’s special care as High Priest, Buck would be safe enough.

The entire Mist Zone was as oppressive as ever. With his previous experience, Veil donned a mask immediately upon entry; though it looked rather unsightly, it filtered most of the moisture from the air, preventing pulmonary edema from prolonged exposure in the mist.

By contrast, Skano and the beastfolk seemed both more “professional” and more “primitive.” They had gathered some local plants—not magical, but unique to the forest, unfamiliar to Veil—and crushed them, mixing the pulp with a bit of earth to press beneath their nostrils, evidently for the same purpose: to block the moist air.

The thick mist and dense woods made the air feel stifling, with a faint strange stench of decay lingering. The dozen beastfolk, thanks to their unnaturally robust bodies, were unbothered, but Veil, frail as he was, quickly found himself dizzy and breathless, his chest tight as if crushed by a boulder. Skano, walking ahead, glanced back at Veil, his lips curling into a gleeful, mocking smile.

From the moment he first met Skano, Veil had assumed the old man was as frail as himself—perhaps even more so! But to his surprise, Skano’s constitution was not as weak as he’d imagined; indeed, the old man fared even a little better, and after so long in this harsh environment, he showed none of Veil’s distress.

The first time Veil entered the Mist Zone, he had used wind magic to clear the mist around him, and so avoided much of the misery. He hoped to do the same again, but Skano—perhaps deliberately—told him that the undead creatures were extremely sensitive to fluctuations in magical power; the deeper into the Mist Zone, the less one could afford to use magic, lest it draw unwanted attention.

Veil was unwilling, but caution prevailed. He certainly didn’t want to summon tens of thousands of undead creatures lurking within the mist.

Cursing Skano fiercely in his heart, Veil trudged on. Just then, Nasa, leading the group, suddenly stopped and made a strange gesture to the beastfolk behind him. All their faces took on a grave expression.

“Have we encountered those things?” Veil wondered, glancing at Skano, who surely could guess his thoughts. Indeed, Skano nodded and gestured for silence.

With Nasa in the lead, the dozen beastfolk moved forward with extraordinary care, stepping lightly. Soon, Veil caught a pungent scent of blood, and heard odd crunching and chewing noises ahead. Though shrouded in thick mist, he could make out a few shadowy shapes.

Judging by their outlines, they were Rotfiends.

One, two… five in all! Veil’s brows rose in surprise—five Rotfiends, each as massive as a rhinobeast, feasting greedily upon what must have been a colossal magical beast.

Skano had hoped they might reach the depths of the Mist Zone without trouble, but now that seemed impossible. He sighed, gave Nasa a meaningful look, and Nasa quickly understood, signaling to Darken and Fero, then to the rest of the beastfolk—a signal Veil recognized: Nasa wanted the others to remain perfectly still.

He intended to deal with the five Rotfiends with just three people!

Ordinarily, Veil would have believed Nasa could handle five Rotfiends alone with ease. But here in the Mist Zone, the beastfolk’s strength was suppressed by some strange force, and they would need to eliminate all five in an instant, without making too much noise, lest they attract more undead.

Veil frowned, casting a dissatisfied glance at Skano. The old man had forbidden him to use magic, lest its power draw the undead, but here they were, three against five—wasn’t that equally risky?

Skano understood Veil’s thoughts, and smiled smugly, winking and gesturing to watch Nasa and the other two.

“Very well…” Veil sighed inwardly, already drawing his wand, ready for any emergency.

With Nasa in the lead, Darken and Fero followed closely, moving with practiced coordination. In moments, they reached their optimal position, simultaneously drawing short spears from their belts.

With three sharp whistling sounds, three white flashes shot through the mist, and the short spears pierced the fleshy spheres atop three Rotfiends’ heads. Blood sprayed. In that instant, Nasa, Fero, and Darken leapt like wild beasts into the midst of the five Rotfiends. Fero and Darken, wielding long blades, swiftly severed the heads of the other two, while Nasa, with his black blade, cleaved the three already struck Rotfiends, splitting their faces and jaws in one motion.

It all happened in a blink. Veil barely saw what Nasa and the others did, and the five Rotfiends fell without even a final howl, their massive bodies swaying. Fero immediately darted forward, gently laying the nearest Rotfiend on the ground, and Nasa and Darken did likewise.

Clean and efficient—the whole process seemed simple, but the difficulty was beyond ordinary comprehension. First, speed: without the monstrous swiftness of Nasa, Darken, and Fero, most would have alerted the Rotfiends before even getting close. Second, explosive power and strength: though Rotfiends weren’t particularly strong, their defenses were formidable. Yet the three beastfolk hurled their spears with such force that they penetrated the fleshy sphere and the hard shell beneath (the sphere served as the Rotfiend’s skull, with eyes and mouth atop; the brain lay beneath the shell). To pierce through both accurately required tremendous power. And all within seconds, without making enough noise to draw other undead. All these factors combined showcased the terrifying strength of the trio.