Chapter 136: The Quest Part 1
"We go deeper."
The words hung in the air like a silent decree, dampened only by the thick, humid stillness of the swamp.
Inigo wiped a smear of blood off his cheek and looked ahead—where the murky water narrowed into a shaded, unnatural passage. Thick reeds lined either side, rising like a tunnel of green spears. Beyond that, the terrain rose slightly, and what appeared to be black stone poked through the bog. Not natural rock. Carved. Shaped.
A temple.
"Eyes sharp," Inigo said. "This is their nest."
The team reorganized quickly. Sark and Hal led the front, blades drawn, their boots squelching in the mud. Feron stayed behind them with a hand-axe and his utility pouch, ready to deal with traps. Lyra took rear guard, while Meryl, Brenna, and Lio covered the flanks, all weapons loaded and silent.
They moved slowly now—through brackish water that rose to their waists, around trees twisted like tortured limbs. The sunlight barely pierced the canopy here. Everything stank of rot and decay, yet something in the air felt... charged. Magical. The hairs on their arms stood up.
Meryl, whispering: "This place is wrong."
"No talking," Lyra replied firmly.
Still, she couldn’t deny it. The trees looked sick, but not just from disease—warped, as if they’d grown under a curse. Some leaned toward the temple like worshippers kneeling. The vines were no longer just vines. Some pulsed. Others bled when brushed.
It took them half an hour to reach the outskirts of the structure.
The temple itself emerged from the swamp like a ruin drowned in time—black stone, covered in moss and glowing with faint green veins. Crude totems surrounded the exterior: bones lashed together, hanging scales, and writhing carvings of serpents etched into the pillars.