Fantasy Clinic: Chronicles of a 3rd-Rate Doctor

The capital's spires clawed at the sky in the distance, black against the rising dawn.

But the road was still long—and cursed.

Their group reached Hollowbridge, an old checkpoint town once used to process trade between regions. Now, the gates were locked with vines, the buildings asleep, the bell tower crooked like a snapped spine.

"No smoke. No lights. Either they're hiding, or—" Sylas paused, drawing his blade.

"—or they're already gone," Veyra finished, hand on hilt.

Elric stared ahead, eyes narrowing.

"They're here. I can feel them."

Keera's bow was already drawn. "Possessed?"

"No," Elric murmured. "Worse. Waiting."

---

They entered slowly.