The days blurred together as Kalenor poured every ounce of his strength into the survival of Hallowglen. For three days, he worked tirelessly, dividing his time between brewing medicine, foraging for ingredients in the surrounding woods, and standing watch at the Briarhouse. The once-lively village had grown quiet, its streets subdued by fear. The afflicted were confined to the Briarhouse, under constant watch, while the healthy villagers kept to their homes, wary of what the plague might bring next.

  On the morning of the third day, Kalenor awoke to the sound of a deep, guttural roar that reverberated through the village. A terrified scream followed, jolting him upright. Grabbing his cloak, he dashed out of his room at the inn, only to realize with a sinking feeling that he had left his sword behind.

  The streets were already in chaos. Kalenor sprinted toward the commotion, his sharp gaze locking onto a father and son fleeing from a grotesque beast. The creature was monstrous, its body matted with roots and brambles, and jagged crystals jutted out from its limbs and spine. Its glowing, blood-red eyes burned with a feral rage as it snarled and lunged after the two villagers.

  Kalenor didn’t hesitate. Raising his right arm, he cast a quick incantation. A faint shimmer of Essentaria enveloped his forearm, forming a small, glowing barrier. He rushed forward, positioning himself between the beast and the fleeing villagers. The creature swiped at him, its claws meeting the barrier with a loud crack, giving the father and son enough time to escape.

  “Go! Get to safety!” Kalenor shouted over his shoulder.

  The beast snarled, turning its full attention to Kalenor. Without his sword, he had no choice but to fight with his bare hands and whatever else he could find. The creature lunged again, its claws slashing through the air. Kalenor sidestepped the attack and drove his fist into its jaw, the impact sending a jolt of pain up his arm. The creature staggered but quickly recovered, snarling as it circled him.

  Kalenor dodged and deflected blow after blow, the barrier on his forearm cracking under the relentless assault. His eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. That’s when he spotted it—a jagged piece of broken wood lying a few feet away.

  He gritted his teeth, letting out a powerful uppercut that caught the beast under its chin and sent it reeling. Taking advantage of the moment, Kalenor dashed toward the wooden shard. He grabbed it just as the creature lunged at him again, spinning around and driving the jagged wood straight into its chest.

  The beast screeched, its body thrashing violently as the wood impaled it. But it didn’t stop. Its claws continued to swipe at Kalenor, the crystal-like growths cutting shallow gashes into his arms as he struggled to keep the creature at bay.

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  “This thing is corrupted,” Kalenor muttered, realization dawning on him. It wasn’t just a wild animal—it was something far worse, twisted by the same malevolence infecting the village.

  Kalenor shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Someone! I need help! Fetch my sword!”

  A hunter appeared, his bow slung over his shoulder and his face pale with fear. “Scalesworn, what is that thing?”

  “Corruption,” Kalenor said through gritted teeth. “Go to the inn. My sword is in my room. Hurry!”

  The hunter nodded and sprinted off, leaving Kalenor to wrestle with the thrashing beast. The jagged wood remained lodged in its chest, but it seemed to have no effect other than slowing the creature down. Kalenor clenched his jaw, holding the beast at arm’s length as its claws scraped against his barrier.

  Minutes later, the hunter returned, carrying Kalenor’s sword. “Here!” he called, tossing it toward him.

  Kalenor caught the sword and gripped it tightly, its familiar weight grounding him. He considered striking the beast down but hesitated, realizing it might hold answers about the corruption. Instead, he raised his blade defensively, keeping the creature pinned with the jagged wood as he turned to the hunter.

  “Help me get it to the Briarhouse,” Kalenor said, his voice firm. “We need the Briar to examine this.”

  The hunter’s eyes widened. “You want to keep it alive?”

  “For now,” Kalenor said. “This isn’t just an animal. It’s a symptom of the plague. We need to understand what we’re fighting.”

  Together, they hauled the thrashing beast through the village streets, its body convulsing as it snarled and clawed at the air. The jagged wood remained embedded in its chest, holding it in place but doing little to subdue it. Villagers peeked out from their homes, their faces etched with fear and confusion as the monstrous creature passed by.

  When they reached the Briarhouse, Kalenor pushed open the door with his shoulder. The Briar and the elders were already inside, their conversation halting as they turned to see Kalenor and the hunter struggling with the restrained beast.

  “What in the name of the stars is that?” the Briar asked, his voice trembling.

  Kalenor dropped the beast onto an empty table, pinning it with his sword while the hunter tied it down with thick ropes. “This,” Kalenor said, his voice low and grim, “is what the plague does. It twists and corrupts everything it touches.”

  The creature let out another guttural roar, its crystal claws scraping against the table as it struggled against its restraints. The Briar stared in horror, his face pale. “It’s still alive.”

  “Barely,” Kalenor replied. “But we need to keep it that way, for now. If we can learn anything about this corruption—how it spreads, how it can be stopped—this creature may be the key.”

  The elders exchanged uneasy glances, their fear evident. The Briar stepped forward, his hands trembling as he examined the creature from a safe distance. “I’ll do what I can,” he said quietly. “But this... this is beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

  Kalenor nodded, his amber eyes burning with determination. “We don’t have a choice. If we’re going to save Hallowglen, we need answers. And we need them fast.”