Chapter 778: Path of the Risen
The trace currents of Black Mist grew thicker as we drew into the forest. The trees were dark and wired, their leaves drifting to the ground like autumn fall. We crossed a few corpses of Risen slain by Zephyriss’s demons, leaking visible wisps of black mist. It curled toward us, only to fade away again.
"It’s getting worse," R’lissea said, frowning as a small stream of mist curled around a few trees, drawn to our souls. "But why isn’t it touching the demons? It’s supposed to be drawn to life energy."
"It is," I said, frowning. "But it’s hard to see with only the visible part, but that man is drawn right to the center of the horde. But then...it gets lost and disperses. Like water running into oil."
But no matter how we looked, or how many times, it was the same every time. The black mist perked up, like an animal sniffing our scent, but quickly lost interest. It seemed drawn straight to our heart, to R’lissea, Elise, and me, yet never got farther than brushing the weakest scions.
The mystery remained unsolved a few miles later, when we came across the first village. An evolved storm demon, taking the form of an elderly man with wings of black clouds, took us to the edge of a broad swatch of cleared land. Rows of tilled earth cut between stumps too big to remove, and a few run-down farm houses and barns were situated on the edge, opposite the clearing.
A large dog, resembling a mottled brown wolf, staggered between an old, slanted-roof barn and what looked to be the farmhouse, one of its legs rotting to the bone. One of its eyes was a mess of pussy fluids, the other glowing an eery red. Black Mist swirled around it like a cloud of flies, setting my soul on edge.
Zephyriss hovered nearby, sparks dancing between her fingers. Her eyes were fixed on the Risen animal, but she came to the ground at our appearance.
"Your demon said there was a village?" I asked.
She nodded. "Just beyond, a half mile or so. There’s a few dozen places like this clustered around it."
"Where did all the people go?" R’lissea asked. She gripped her skirt so tightly her knuckles were white, and deep, anxious lines creased her forehead.
"My scions picked up a trail leading deeper into the woods, toward the border," she answered.