Chapter 20 : Yay, Someone Else Is Getting Tortured Now

The Fell God’s temple stood at the heart of the northern wasteland of the Augustian Empire, shrouded in mist that never lifted.

Twisted, dead trees clawed at the leaden sky like skeletal hands. Cracks in the earth oozed emerald poison, eating through stone, leaving behind pockmarked, charred earth.

Ten miles north, at the edge of the Rotwood Forest, three adventurers trudged forward.

Blake, the lead warrior, hacked through hanging, corrupted vines with his heavy blade. Each strike sent splatters of foul, dark-red mucus flying.

“I knew it’d be weird,” he spat, “but trees bleeding? What the hell is this place?”

His boots squelched in crimson mud, stretching sticky threads with every step. Fighting nausea, he pushed forward—just get out. That’s all that mattered.

Behind him, Knight Calvin raised a torch. The flame flickered weakly, burning an eerie blue in the damp air.

“Smells like rotting corpses,” he rumbled through his helmet. “My magic compass has been spinning since we entered. Lily, can you find the source?”

At the rear, the mage Lily shook her head.

Since entering the forest, her magic had been… off.

Her detection spells—normally flawless—had failed. She’d searched repeatedly. Nothing.

“I can’t find anything. Blake, can you go faster? I’ve got a bad feeling.”

She crouched carefully behind Calvin, her robe brushing a carpet of crawling fungi.

Then she froze.

“These mosses… they’re mimicking footprints.”

The others followed her gaze.

Between the decaying birches, faint slash marks scarred the trunks. Beneath the mossy sludge, something glinted.

“I’ll check.”

Blake pried back the moss, lifting a rusted silver fragment with his sword tip.

It was a piece of imperial knight armor—standard issue.

But black, twitching flesh clung to the edges.

The damage was old.

“Must be from the expedition years ago. Not what we’re looking for.”

Silence.

They pressed on.

Half an hour later, with the forest edge just hundreds of meters away, they found a patch of dry ground—no more of that disgusting muck.

“Angus should be close. We’ll wait here for him.”

They gathered dry wood, lit a fire.

Lily stared into the flames, absently rubbing the communication crystal at her waist.

Distracted.

“You worried about Angus?” Blake asked.

She nodded.

She was worried. He’d gone straight into the temple—the Fell God’s lair.

“I heard… no one who’s entered that fortress has ever come out alive.”

“Just rumors,” Blake said. “And you know Angus. He’s not strong, but nobody runs faster. Even if he meets the Fell God, I believe he’ll escape.”

“I hope so.”

Lily gazed into the fire.

She regretted not going with him. Her magic could’ve found traces faster. He wouldn’t have had to risk his life.

Then—warmth.

Blake took her hand.

“He’ll be fine. Remember? After this job, we pay off our debts… and go home. Get married.”

“…Yeah.”

She leaned into his touch.

But the worry wouldn’t leave.

She regretted accepting this job from the Adventurer’s Guild.

A week ago, Sword Saint Agnes and twelve Platinum-ranked Holy Knights launched a decapitation strike.

At first, everyone believed they’d return victorious.

But a week had passed.

No word.

No sign.

Alive or dead—unknown.

So the Empire issued a commission:
Find them. Alive or dead. Reward: immense.

Many came for the gold.

But when they saw the location—the Fell God’s temple—most fled.

If even the Sword Saint and her elite guard had fallen… what chance did ordinary adventurers have?

Money meant nothing if you were dead.

But after a day with no takers, the Empire doubled the reward.

That’s when Blake came to her—his fiancée—and their two old friends.

She’d wanted to refuse.

But… a lifetime of security?

She agreed.

Now, the four of them had entered the Forbidden Land of Death—a place said to never let anyone leave alive.

Soon after entering, Angus—the assassin—split off.

His skills? Stealth. Speed.

Perfect for infiltrating the temple.

Perfect for escaping if caught.

He had absolute confidence in his speed.

Even if he met the bloodthirsty Fell God—he’d escape.

The other three waited here—ready to respond to his signal.

Success or danger—he’d use the crystal to call them.

The mission’s fate rested on him.

And so would the lion’s share of the reward.

Now, they just had to wait.

But the three by the fire didn’t notice—

The severed vines they’d cut earlier…

A single eye had sprouted from one stump.

Silent.

Watching.

Recording their every move.

As they sat, dreaming of wealth and peace—

A shadow flickered.

“Who’s there?!”

Blake drew his sword.

Calvin raised his shield, shielding Lily.

They formed a triangle—ready.

Then—

The shadow flashed again—tossing something.

Blake swung.

The blade sliced through soft, rotten flesh.

A headless corpse split in two.

Stunned, Blake stared.

That uniform… no…

The shadow moved—threw another object.

When Lily saw it—

She collapsed, screaming.

A round, severed head.

The face—frozen in final terror—was Angus.

……………

P.S.:

Milly: Yay! Finally, someone else is getting tortured now!