They stepped through the door. Sylas entered first, then the others followed behind him.
In front of them was a small village. Right in the middle stood a statue. It was made of stone, but it had no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Just a blank face. Its arms stretched out like it froze mid-scream. Around it were small houses.
The houses were made of old wood. The windows were perfect, not broken at all. The walls looked new, like they were just built. But the roofs were already falling apart, like someone started building and gave up halfway through.
The sky looked gray, like someone had removed all the color from this world. There were no clouds. Gray sun. Just dull gray light hanging in the air. It was empty. Heavy. Like even the sky had given up.
The trees had no leaves. Their branches curled like long, twisted fingers.
To the left of the village was a river.
The water was pitch black. It didn't move. It just sat there, frozen in place. Sylas picked up a stick and touched the water. Only then did it ripple.
Ahead of them was a forest, but the trees had no leaves either.
Ryan looked around the silent village. "This place gives me the creeps… but I still wish we could find some kind of food. Maybe meat," he muttered as his stomach growled loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I guess time to hunt some food," Sylas muttered.
Then he asked Elizabeth and the others to check the houses while he searched for food.
"I can go with you," Ryan said, glancing at the dead trees. His voice was brave, but his eyes weren't.
"It's fine. It's better if you stay here, just in case," he looked at the roofs, "maybe you guys can fix the roof."
He walked off toward the leafless forest. While walking between the trees, he realized no matter how far he went, he always came back near the camp. Like they were stuck and couldn't leave this area. It was like he was going in circles.
All this walking made him hungry, but there were no animals nearby. Then his mind drifted back to the entrance exam.
"I miss those rabbit meats," he muttered to himself.
That's when he heard footsteps. He froze and hid behind a tree, trying to peek out.
There they were—rabbits.
A bunch of them running around, popping out of holes in the ground.
Sylas didn't wait. He bolted forward and began cutting them down. One, two, three—each clean strike landed. More rabbits scattered behind him. He moved fast, chasing them down before they could escape.
He caught enough for everyone.
But something felt off.
It was too easy.
He pushed the thought away and took the rabbits back to camp.
Elizabeth had already set up everything, but when she saw him, her smile faded a little.
"You were gone a long time… are you okay?"
He nodded. They cooked the meat and shared it among themselves.
"This rabbit tastes so much better than the ones we had before," Elizabeth said… then paused. "Almost too good."
Sylas nodded, but he stared at the meat with suspicion.
They ate until their stomachs were full. They all lay down to sleep. Sylas offered to keep watch. He sat by the door, eyes slowly closing.
He heard footsteps.
They weren't close. Just somewhere in the distance.
He gripped the hilt of his sword, his eyes still closed, but he was ready to fight—but the sound faded.
Then it all disappeared.
Now he was floating in darkness.
A quiet, empty space.
And then a figure started forming.
It was Guinevere.
She had that familiar warm smile on her face. Soft. Kind. The one that made him fall for her. She reached out her hand toward him, calling him gently.
The darkness around him faded.
He was no longer floating.
He was standing at a banquet that his mother threw for him. It was also the first time he met her. The memory felt real. He walked toward her without a second thought and took her hand. Then they started dancing. It was slow, elegant.
He didn't question it.
He was happy.
They danced while people surrounded them, clapping with the music.
Then, one by one, the people began to dissolve.
They melted into shadows, turning into dark ink like liquid dripping into the ground.
The music stopped.
The sky turned red.
The cheers and warmth in the room disappeared.
Before he could understand what was happening, a sharp pain tore through his chest.
He looked down.
Guinevere had stabbed him in the heart.
Her hand still rested on his cheek. Her smile hadn't changed. It was still soft. Kind. He looked at her with a smile. He didn't feel any hate toward her. He knew he deserved it.
Then another blade struck from behind.
He turned his head—barely.
It was Lancelot. His loyal knight. His best friend.
He dropped on both knees, then collapsed face-first into the floor.
He lifted his head and watched them walk away, holding hands, without looking back.
"How sad. Your best friend stole the love of your life."
The voice didn't come from her.
It echoed from everywhere—around him, above him, inside him.
Then it started laughing.
It was loud. It was mocking him.
He reached out his hand.
He tried to scream—but no sound came out.
The ink-like liquid on the floor started to move. It crawled toward him, wrapping around his legs, then his body.
The banquet hall around him faded. The music, the walls, the chandeliers—all of it turned to dust.
He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
He was alone again.
Empty.
The darkness swallowed everything around him. It was quiet.
Then—he heard footsteps.
Real ones.
He opened his eyes.
His hand gripped Excalibur as he stood up. Everyone else was asleep.
In front of him were a group of humanoid monsters. Their skin was green and wet. Their arms were long with webbed claws. Gills pulsed on the sides of their necks. They surrounded him, blocking the way out.
His red eyes lit up, glowing like flames in the dark.
"Where is he?" he asked.
His voice was calm—but behind it was rage.
They didn't speak.
He took one step forward.
They all took a step back. Some shook with fear. A few turned and ran toward the water. Some didn't even move.
Sylas moved first.
He launched forward. His body cut through the air.
He swung Excalibur straight down. One clean slash—three heads flew into the air and dropped to the ground.
Green blood sprayed across the ground.
Another creature jumped toward him.
He grabbed it by its throat in midair and threw it into three that just stood there.
He bolted toward them and, in an instant, he cut them down.
One more jumped from behind him.
Sylas stepped aside and swung again—cutting the creature in half. Its top half hit the ground, its body still twitching.
The rest tried to run.
He didn't let them.
He activated his Domain.
The entire world shifted.
The trees shined with gold light. The ground turned into a smooth gold field filled with swords sticking out. The river glowed gold.
There was no escape now.
"Where is he?" Sylas asked again.
Each word was slow. Heavy.
None of the creatures answered. They stood frozen.
Two short blades appeared in his hands.
He rushed forward again. Fast. Silent.
He drove one blade into a creature's chest. It screamed, but he pulled the blade out and turned to the next. A fast slice across the throat dropped another.
One tried to crawl away.
Sylas walked up behind it and drove the dagger into its spine.
Soft glowing lights—soul fragments—floated from its body and dissolved into him.
They kept coming.
He kept killing.
One by one, they fell.
And one by one, their soul fragments were delivered into him.
[Soul Core Fragments Collected: 35/100]
He sheathed Excalibur and walked back into the house.
He laid down.
Still not satisfied.
His blood was boiling.
He didn't want to close his eyes.
He could still hear the laughter.
So he stayed up.
All night.
When the gray sun rose, everyone else woke up.
Sylas stepped outside.
Something was different.
The statue in the middle of the village—the one with no face—now had eyes.
And it was staring straight at the house they had slept in.
Ryan stepped beside him, staring at it in silence.
"I knew this place was cursed," he whispered.