Reegar Greywalker walked towards an abandoned graveyard above a hill. He looked at a broken sign that reads Hilltop’s Cemetery. A gust of wind blew a terrible stench towards him, and he let out a grunt as he continued his march.

  The steel helmet covered much of his head, revealing only his mouth and jaw. Stubbles dotted his face and five vertical slits from the visor provided vision.

  He wore an earthly colored gambeson, and it reached down to his knees. A red brigandine armor wrapped around his torso, along with a pair of steel pauldrons protecting his shoulder and steel vambraces covering his arms.

  A belt hangs from his waist, with a leather satchel attached to the right. On his neck, he wears a circular steel medallion with a symbol of a knight’s helmet with an upright sword, like a plume.

  If someone describes how this armor looks, they would say it appears worn out and rugged, dotted with scratches and dust.

  The graveyard looks abandoned. The walls surrounding it are either loose or collapse. Thickets grow around it, with vines crawling up the stones. Petals lie scattered on the ground.

  He quickly surveyed the surroundings. He kneeled near a thicket and saw the flowers were ripped from it. Myrtles. These flowers thrive on sunlight and carry a scent that discourages the undead from approaching. Not a zombie that ravages this place.

  Reegar noticed an opened grave and looked at the soil. Chaotic, erratic, and there are claw marks on the tombstones. Someone tore apart the wooden coffin, and now half of the corpse is missing. Someone or something ripped open the chest and took the organs.

  A picky eater.

  A low gurgling noise caught his attention, and he noticed a creature squatting on the other end of the graveyard.

  The creature is devoid of any hair and the skin is pale, stretched tight over its skeletal structure, giving it the appearance of something that is always hungry, never satisfied. It gorged on a corpse, focusing on the organs, ripping them out.

  He grumbled. He recognized this type of undead. Ghoul. These creatures became undead either through a bite from another ghoul or by consuming sentient flesh, resulting in an eternal craving for corpses. Worst-case scenario, necromancer’s plaything. Unleashing this creature into the world to test their necrotic power or some kind of twisted experiment or game.

  This explained much. While myrtles scent may deter zombies, a ghoul is a slave to hunger, it probably power through and ripped the flowers.

  His right hand unsheathed a sword from his back waist. The sword’s overall length is around four feet long. The hilt flopped forward with a broad blade.

  He received compensation to take care of this and he intends to fulfill his contract. This ghoul must be stopped here. There’s a settlement nearby. If the ghoul tastes the living, it will become a ghast, and that’s a new set of problems he rather avoids.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The ghoul stopped its feast and turned towards him and snarled, revealing a row of fangs with putrid cream colored saliva dripping from its mouth. Its eyes are white and cloudy, but its tongue is black and long. The arms are slightly longer with larger palms and long fingers that end sharply. It stood up, hunched, and continued to snarl and hissed as it approached the paladin.

  Reegar raised the sword and held it vertically in front of his face. “By the grace of the Lady of Swords I found my mark. Through my bloodstained hands, I will deliver death.” Reegar spoke, his answer to the ghoul’s snarls. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he strode towards the ghoul, holding his weapon with his right hand. “Well, in your case, a second one.”

  The ghoul’s legs pushed through the grass and its cloudy eyes locked on its target and lunged towards him with its right arm pushed forward. The long, thin arm reminds him of a spear. Sparks flew as the claw meets the blade. Reegar deflected the first blow and slammed his shoulder into the ghoul, knocking it back.

  It growls like a mad dog with bubbling saliva dripping from its mouth. It launched itself again, swiping its arms towards Reegar. The paladin swung his sword in an upward motion, slicing through the ghoul’s chest. Black blood sprayed onto the ground, creating a rancid smell.

  The ghoul jerked back and swung its left arm at the Reegar’s face, grazing his helmet.

  Reegar pushed forward and swung his sword again and again. Each cut is deeper and would kill a living person, but not an undead. His sword cuts right into the ghoul’s jaw, severing off its black tongue.

  It wriggles as it falls to the ground and Reegar slammed his steel boots onto it, releasing a satisfying squish. The ghoul thrusts its arm forward and Reegar swatted the attack and slammed the pommel into the ghoul’s head, pushing it back.

  The paladin steps forward and he mutters a prayer to his goddess. “Lady Eris guides me. My faith, my wrath.” He unleashes a swing, aiming at the ghoul’s neck. The blade glowed in red as small black spheres fluttered around it. It cut through the air and the ghoul’s neck, severing the head. The ghoul’s scream turns into a guttering mess before it stops.

  The head rolls sideways, separated from its body. Its eyes still locked on Reegar and as he tried to pluck it, the jaws snapped, trying to bite off his finger. The paladin plucked the head and placed it into a sack. He offered a small prayer before leaving the graveyard with a satisfied smile.

  It doesn’t take long for him to meet with civilization again. One small village, among many in this land. Muted and quaint are too dull for him. The sound of chickens and goats greeted him as he walked into the village, with eyes staring at him. An armed man walking into a village carrying a sack that oozes the smell of decayed flesh. These people will gossip about him for the next couple of months. He stopped at the largest building in the village, the elder’s house.

  The elder, a man in his late sixties, was sitting on the porch with several others when he arrived. He let out a weary smile when he noticed Reegar.

  “I’ve dealt with the monster, guv. It’s a ghoul. Nasty one.”

  The elder observed the sack, its contents still moving and hissing. Undeath's stench persists. “You don’t need to show me. I’ll take your word, paladin. Destroy it.”

  Reegar released the sack and pierced it with his sword, and a red light ran through the blade. It burns through the head and it crumbles into ashes. He uttered a prayer to Eris, thanking her for giving him the opportunity to face a foe and win.

  The elder handed him a bag and inside were several dried meats, several eggs, breads, a pie, two water bags, a bag containing cocoa powder and several berries and fruits. “I am sorry we couldn’t provide you with an actual payment. In rugums.” the elder spoke.

  He looked at the elder and smiled. “Nonsense. Food and water are sufficient. I hate hunting for food, anyways.”