The Anomaly's Path

The scream ripped through the night like a torn cloth, high and sharp and full of a fear that made my blood cold.

It came from the direction of the village, somewhere between the eastern gate and the market, and it did not stop. It kept going, rising and falling, until it was cut off by a sound that I did not want to name.

I did not have time to think.

My body moved before my brain caught up. I grabbed Mia by the wrist and pulled her behind me, my other hand already on Tempest’s hilt. The blade came out of its scabbard with a sound like a snake waking up, and I stepped in front of her, putting myself between her and whatever was coming.

"Stay behind me," I said, my voice low and hard. "Do not move or scream. Do not do anything stupid."

"I am not going to—"

A sickening, wet thwack echoed from the dense jungle to our left. Then came the sound of snapping bone. Before Mia could even draw a breath to respond, a shape exploded from the bushes.

It was a Moldclaw. Grade 2, Low rank.

Its body was covered in bark-like armor, but unlike the monsters I had fought before, this one was different. Patches of glowing green fungus grew from the cracks in its shell, pulsing with a sickly light.

The fungus looked soft and spongy, but when the creature shook its body, tiny spores drifted into the air like glowing dust. Its eyes were red and wild, burning in the darkness, and its claws were thick and crusted with something dark.

The smell was wrong—not just rot, but something chemical, something that made my eyes water.

It lunged at me.

I didn’t move. I waited until its claws were inches from my throat, then I triggered Starlight Steps.

My feet slid to the left like I was skating on ice. The Moldclaw sailed past me, its claws raking through empty air, and I swung Tempest in a tight arc. The blade caught the monster across the neck, and the head came off clean.

Thud!

The body hit the ground. The head rolled into the bushes. Black and green blood sprayed across the grass, hot and foul, mixed with glowing green spores that hissed where they landed.

"Leo!" Mia gasped from behind me.

"I said stay behind me."

Another Moldclaw came from the right. Then another from the front. Three of them, maybe four. Their eyes were the same wild red, their movements jerky and desperate, like something was pushing them from inside, driving them forward even as their bodies screamed for them to stop.

The green fungus on their backs pulsed faster as they moved. I pushed mana into my legs and teleported five feet to the left.

The world twisted around me for a split second, and I appeared behind the closest Moldclaw before it even knew I had moved. Tempest cut through its spine like it was made of wet paper, and the monster crumpled before it hit the ground.

Spores exploded from its body in a cloud.

The other two turned and charged at the same time.

I swung my blade at the first one, aiming for its throat, but right before the steel connected, I reached out with my mana and folded the space around the blade.

Spatial Slip.

The sword vanished from my hand. The Moldclaw in front of me kept running, confused, its claws swiping at nothing, its head turning left and right like it was looking for the weapon that had disappeared.

The blade reappeared three feet to the left, inside the throat of the second Moldclaw. It let out a wet, gurgling sound and collapsed, its fungus dimming as it died.

I teleported Tempest back into my grip and finished the first one with a clean cut across its neck. It fell to its knees, then forward, and did not move again.

Silence returned to the jungle. Four dead monsters in ten seconds. I stood there, breathing hard. My mana was dipping, the pool in my core feeling shallower, but I didn’t have a nosebleed.

I was getting better at this.

"Leo..." Mia’s voice was small behind me. "Your head..."

"I am fine."

"That was..." She stopped and swallowed hard. "That was fast."

"I know."

I turned to look at her. Her face was pale in the moonlight, pale as the flowers on her parents’ graves. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the bodies, and her hands were shaking at her sides.

She had seen monsters before. She lived in Wayford. She had helped treat the wounds of hunters and fighters who came back from the jungle. But she had never seen me fight.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"You just... your sword... it disappeared."

"Spatial Slip," I said. "It’s a skill I made using my affinities that lets my sword teleport. But, I am still working on it."

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Her hands were still shaking.

"...You get used to it," I said.

"I do not think I want to."

I was about to say something stupid—something about how she should see me on a good day, when I was not half-empty on mana and running on adrenaline—when I felt it.

Presences.

Not one or two but countless.

My bravado died as the Flash Instinct in my skull began to roar. It wasn’t a hum anymore; it was a scream. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my hand tightened on Tempest so hard that the leather of the grip creaked.

"Leo?" Mia’s voice was worried now. "What is wrong?"

I did not answer.

I looked around the clearing at the trees, the bushes, the shadows between the trunks—they were everywhere, crawling and slithering through the dark with red pinprick eyes watching from every direction.

They emerged from the shadows like a tide.

Needletooth. Grade 1-High.

They were smaller than the Moldclaws, leaner, built for speed. Their scales were smooth and grey, almost metallic in the moonlight, and their bodies were stretched thin like they had been pulled from both ends.

However... the teeth—the teeth were what made my stomach turn.

They were long and thin, like sewing needles, rows of them packed into a mouth that was too wide for their face.

They clicked together when the creatures breathed, a sound like bones rattling in a dry wind. Their eyes were the same burning red, and they moved in quick, jerky bursts, never staying still for more than a heartbeat.

They poured out of the jungle like a flood of grey flesh. Ten, twenty, thirty—I lost count. They kept coming, their claws digging into the earth, their needle-teeth clicking in the dark. Behind them, more Moldclaws emerged, their green fungus pulsing like a swarm of sickly fireflies.

And behind them, something else.

Something bigger and stronger. I could not see it yet, but I could feel it. A heavy, crushing presence that made the air feel thick and wrong. It was not close.

But it was coming.

"Leo..." Mia grabbed my arm. Her voice was shaking. "Leo, there are too many."

I looked at the swarm. Forty or Fifty. Maybe more. They kept coming, pouring out of the trees like the jungle itself was vomiting them up, and they were all moving in the same direction.

The village.

Fuck! They are moving toward the village.

I didn’t have enough mana to protect her and fight a hundred monsters on the ground. I made a decision.

"Hold on," I said.

"What...?"

I did not explain. I grabbed Mia by the waist and lifted her off the ground, one arm under her legs and the other around her back. She let out a small yelp—not a scream, just a surprised little sound—and her arms wrapped around my neck. Her face was inches from mine. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes were wide.

"W-what are you doing?!" she hissed.

"Saving your life. Hold tight."

"I am holding—"

I triggered Starlight Steps and moved.

The world blurred around us. The trees became streaks of brown and green, the ground a dark smear below.

The wind whipped past my ears, cold and sharp, and Mia buried her face in my shoulder and held on so tight that I felt her nails digging into my back through my shirt. Her breath was warm on my neck.

I jumped onto a low branch, then a higher one, then a branch so high that the ground looked like a dark ocean below us. I set Mia down on a thick branch and crouched next to her, my chest heaving, my legs burning.

"Stay here," I said.

"Leo, I cannot—"

"Stay. Here."

She looked at my face. She must have seen something there—something that told her I was not joking, not exaggerating—because she stopped arguing. She just nodded and pressed herself against the trunk of the tree, her fingers digging into the bark.

I looked down.

The area below was a sea of monsters.

They moved like a single organism, their bodies pressing together, their claws scraping against the earth in a rhythm that sounded like rain on stone. Their red eyes glowed in the darkness, hundreds of them, and they were all moving in one direction.

Toward Wayford.

They are going to the village.

I felt my blood run cold. The kids. Marta. Roran. The Gambling King. Everyone. They were all down there, drunk and laughing and dancing, with no idea what was coming.

"Leo," Mia whispered. Her voice was small, scared. "They are heading to the village."

I gripped Tempest so hard that my knuckles turned white. My mana was low. My head was throbbing. My legs were shaking from the jump. But I could not let them get to the village. Not while I was still standing.

"...I have a very bad feeling about this," I said.

"What do we do?"

"We go back fast and we pray we are not too late."

I grabbed her again. Mia wrapped her arms around my neck, her breath warm on my skin. "Do not drop me," she muttered.

"I’ll try not to."

I jumped.

_

A Few Minutes Earlier...

The Rusty Mug was loud.

The festival was still going, and the tavern was packed with people who had drunk too much and danced too long.

The air smelled of ale and sweat and woodsmoke, and the floor was sticky with spilled drinks. Someone was playing a lute in the corner, badly. Someone else was singing along, worse.

A third person was trying to start a fight, but he was too drunk to stand, so he just shouted at the wall.

At a table near the back, a group of men were playing dice.

"Ha! Another win!" The Gambling King swept the coins toward himself and grinned. His teeth were yellow in the lantern light, and his eyes were bright with the joy of taking money from fools. "You boys are too easy."

"Fuck off," one of the men grumbled.

His name was Harren. He was a big man, barrel-chested, with a red face and a nose that had been broken more than once. He worked at the mill, and his hands were calloused and thick. He had been losing all night, and his coin pouch was flat.

"Your luck cannot last forever," he said.

"My luck has lasted forty years," the Gambling King said. "I think it is permanent."

The other men laughed. Harren’s face got redder. He stood up, his chair scraping against the wooden floor, and the legs left scratches in the old wood.

"Where are you going?" the Gambling King asked.

"To take a piss. Unless you want me to do it here."

"Take a piss outside, Harren!" the Gambling King shouted after him.

Harren grumbled and stumbled toward the back door. He pushed it open, and the night air hit his face, cool and damp. The music from inside faded behind him, muffled by the walls.

He walked to the edge of the yard, a patch of grass behind the tavern that smelled of old ale and wet earth. He fumbled with his belt, his fingers thick and clumsy, and relieved himself against a tree. The stream was loud in the quiet night, and he sighed with relief.

He was humming. Some old song his mother used to sing when he was a child. He did not remember the words, just the tune. It was a sad tune, slow and heavy, but he hummed it anyway.

The air suddenly turned freezing.

His breath became a mist. The music from the tavern sounded miles away, muffled and strange. Harren shivered, zipping his pants. "Damn weather," he muttered, trying to sound tough.

He turned to go back inside.

...And stopped.

The yard was empty. The door to the tavern was closed. The music was muffled, distant, like it was coming from the bottom of a well. The lanterns that had been lit along the path had gone out, their flames snuffed by something he could not see.

The shadows were too dark. The air was too still.

"...Hello?" he called out.

No answer.

He felt a chill run down his spine not from the cold but from something else. Something that made the hair on his arms stand up and his stomach clench like he was about to be sick.

"Who is there?" His voice was loud, but there was a tremor in it. He tried to sound tough, tried to sound like the man he had been twenty years ago. "...I am a veteran, you know! I fought in the border wars. I am not afraid of anything. I’ll knock your teeth—"

A hand clamped over his mouth.

The hand was cold. Too cold. It smelled of iron and old blood, and the fingers were long and pale. They pressed against his face so hard that his teeth dug into his lips.

He tried to scream, but the sound died in his throat.

"Shh!"

The voice was soft almost... gentle. It was the voice of someone who had done this before, many times, and felt nothing about it anymore.

Harren’s eyes went wide. He struggled, his thick arms flailing, his boots scraping against the dirt. But the grip on his mouth was like iron. He could not move or breathe. He could feel the cold spreading from the hand to his face, to his neck, to his chest.

"Nothing personal," the voice said. "...You are just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

A blade slid across his throat.

It was quick almost... merciful. The blood sprayed hot against the cold night air, and Harren’s body crumpled to the ground. He did not feel the impact. He did not feel anything. His eyes stared up at the sky, wide and empty, and the light in them faded like a candle being snuffed out.

The figure stood over him, wiping the blade on a dark cloak. The cloak was stained with old blood, darker than the shadows.

Kael.

He looked down at the body for a moment, his eyes expressionless. Then he turned to the shadows behind him.

"The distraction has started," Kael said, his voice cold. "Go. Find the target. And the orphanage—Voss needs the children alive for the experiments. So, don’t kill them."

The female demon stepped out of the shadows, her teeth sharp in a grin. Her eyes were wild, crazy, and her fingers twitched at her sides like she was itching to use them.

"And the others?" she asked.

"If they get in the way, kill them."

"And you, Kael? Where are you going?" the male demon asked. He was tall and broad, with hands that looked like they could crush stone.

Kael looked toward the center of the village, where the mana of a certain "old drunk" was starting to flare like a beacon.

"I am going to meet someone...." He disappeared into the darkness, his cloak swallowing him whole.

The female demon laughed, a soft, crazy sound that echoed off the walls of the tavern. "This is going to be fun."

The male demon cracked his knuckles. "I hope someone fights back."

They moved toward the village, shadows among shadows, and the night swallowed them whole.

_

Author’s Note

Hey everyone. I have created a Discord server for the novel. You can join and ask me questions about the story, characters, or anything you want to know.

A few things before you join:

I am not very active on Discord. I do not check it every day. Sometimes I might be offline for a while. So do not expect me to be online all the time.

But when I do log in, I will answer everyone’s questions. I will read every message. I will reply to everyone.

So feel free to join, leave your questions, and I will get to them whenever I am online.

Thank you for reading The Anomaly’s Path. Your support means everything.