CHAPTER 9: MIREWOOD SWAMP

Nearly an hour of riding left Wade’s legs stiff and his back sore, but when Sebastian finally raised a hand to slow the party, the relief he felt could better be described as euphoria.

The road curved down into a wide basin, and there, sprawled before them, was the Mirewood Swamp.

From a distance it looked like a dark sheet of water scattered with reeds and crooked trees.

A heavy mist clung low to the ground, and the air carried the smell of mud and stagnant water.

A small stable sat on the edge of the swamp, built from gray wood and topped with a sagging roof.

Several stalls were already filled, horses snorting and stamping as adventurers prepared for their own forays into the mire.

They dismounted, and Sebastian handed over a few coins to the stable master. Wade hesitated as he tied his horse to one of the posts.

"Is there any risk of anyone stealing our horses while we’re gone? I don’t want to have to pay for it," he said, looking around at the other horses.

Rowan chuckled, giving his reins a last tug. "This stable belongs to the Lion’s Guild. Nobody would be stupid enough to steal from us. I’ve heard the punishment alone would be worse than death."

Wade swallowed and nodded. That explained the confidence of the other adventurers.

Before they stepped into the swamp, Sebastian turned and planted his massive battle axe in the earth beside him.

The weapon had appeared out of thin air, but Wade suspected the man had pulled it out of his inventory.

"Before we go in, Barrett," he said, pinning Wade with his eyes, "a few things."

Wade straightened instinctively.

"Your perception is better than most at your level," Sebastian continued, "but it doesn’t work unless you use it."

"Keep your eyes moving and your mind alert. Dangers in a swamp don’t leap out in the open. They creep. You don’t want you to notice them only when it’s too late to do anything about it."

Wade nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword.

"Second," Sebastian said, "don’t hesitate to use your blade."

"The sword is simple. Just swing, thrust, and block, but it’s deadly when you commit. Your strength and agility are high enough now. Rely on them when you must. Hesitation kills. Whatever you see, do not hesitate."

Wade’s mouth was dry, but he forced himself to nod again.

"And last," Sebastian said, "know your enemy. The main predators in Mirewood are Bog Slimes. They’ll look like lumps of muck, easy to step past, but if they get a hold of you, they’ll wrap around and melt you down to the bone. If you see one move, cut it fast."

A cold shiver ran down Wade’s spine.

"Don’t panic," Sebastian added, almost kindly. "If we come across something too strong, we’ll step in. That’s what parties are for."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Your job today is to survive, learn, and find the herb. Nothing more."

Wade blinked, trying to digest the information he’d just received. If they dumped it all on him like that, didn’t they know it would be harder to keep calm?

Or was this another test to see him work under pressure?

Rowan tilted his head. "Speaking of which, the Nightbloom won’t look like much now. Under the light of the moon, it glows, but in the daylight it’s dark, and nearly invisible against the muck. However, if you keep your eyes open, you’ll find it. You just need to use your perception."

Sebastian shouldered his axe again and stepped aside. "Lead the way."

Wade could feel their eyes on him. It was like standing up on a stage and being expected to work wonders.

He pulled his sword free of its sheath, the blade humming faintly as it caught the light.

The leather grip was rough under his palm, but it was comfortable. He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped into the swamp.

The water rose over his boots almost immediately, cold mud sucking at his steps.

Reeds brushed his legs, and insects buzzed in clouds that darted away at the movement of the party.

Each step sent ripples outwards, the sound swallowed quickly by the thick air.

Behind him, the others followed in a loose line. They looked casual, but Wade could tell it was an act.

Sebastian held his axe loosely at his side, but Wade knew that in his hands, the massive weapon was practically weightless.

Rowan had a staff slung across his shoulders, the glass orb at its top glowing faintly, while Ingrid moved in silence, an arrow already nocked to her bow, her pale eyes scanning the mire.

Before long, the swamp was all around them. The crooked trees hunched low, their roots tangled in black water, and the mist drifted across the surface, twisting with every gust of wind.

Wade forced himself to keep moving, eyes scanning the waterline, the reeds, and the surface of the swamp itself.

With what he’d been told, every ripple now seemed like a threat. He tried not to let his grip on the sword grow too tight.

Minutes passed.

Then, without warning, a loud hiss of air flew past his ear.

Ingrid’s arrow swished through the swamp, striking with a wet sound.

A shape flinched in the water just a few paces away from Wade, then froze. Wade jerked back, raising his sword, heart hammering.

Ingrid walked forward with calm steps, pulling her arrow free from the muck with ease. The remains of a creature clung to the shaft before sliding back into the water.

"What was that?" Wade asked, his voice low.

Rowan answered, his calm smile on his face. "Something higher level than your perception could notice. Happens often. That’s why parties matter."

Wade exhaled slowly, forcing his shoulders to relax. He glanced back at Ingrid, who had already nocked another arrow, her expression blank.

He continued forward again, refusing to let himself be shaken by the fact that there were monsters he wouldn’t even be able to notice. But it was damn hard.

And so, time passed.

Half an hour later, he saw something at the edge of his vision, his head snapping towards it.

It was a plant, its dark petals curled tight, its stem rising from the muck. It matched the description.

It was the Nightbloom herb.

A smile crept across Wade’s face despite the tension in his shoulders. "There," he said, striding towards it.

He bent down, sword still in one hand, reaching for the flower.

Then the water beneath him surged.

Something burst upwards, dark and slick, lunging straight for him.