The next morning, the fog had thickened.
It no longer hung low across the ground. It rose to chest height and clung to their clothes like wet cloth. The air smelled different now—old, like something had rotted and was still moving.
They didn't speak as they left the house.
Tarn led the way. He had found the mine entrance behind the town's grain store the night before—half-buried under broken crates and rusted iron.
The Guild map said the mines were abandoned ten years ago.
But someone had opened them again.
The entrance was wide enough for two people side by side. Old wooden supports lined the ceiling. The tunnel sloped down sharply, and the light vanished after only a few steps.
Karis lit a mage lantern and handed it to Elian.
Pao's Lanternmark was already warm.
They walked for ten minutes before finding the first sign.
A pile of shoes. Ten pairs. All different sizes. Some old, some new. All perfectly placed in a neat row along the wall.
No footprints.
No bodies.
Just shoes.
Karis didn't say anything. She stepped over them and kept moving.
Pao looked back once.
One of the shoes had moved.
The tunnel split into two paths. One led deeper. The other ended in a locked wooden door.
Elian stepped forward. "This wasn't in the plans."
Tarn tested the door. It didn't budge.
Karis nodded to Pao.
He stepped forward and placed a detection tag on the surface.
It glowed bright red.
"Trapped," he said. "Ritual-based. Not Guild."
Karis pointed down the other tunnel. "We go deeper. Leave the door for later."
The air grew colder as they descended.
Pao's Lanternmark throbbed under his coat. It was stronger than before. The pain wasn't sharp—but steady, like something pushing back.
They reached a large chamber.
The floor was covered in black dust. The walls were smooth. In the center stood a strange pillar—made of old wood and wrapped in cloth soaked with dried blood.
Tarn stepped forward and pulled the cloth back.
Underneath was a body.
It was nailed to the pillar with rusted iron rods.
But it was still moving.
Its mouth opened.
Its eyes rolled in different directions.
And it smiled.
Not wide. Not angry.
Just wrong.
"Visitors," it whispered.
Elian gasped and stepped back.
The corpse twisted its neck and looked directly at Pao.
"I remember you."
Karis drew her sword. "It's a vessel."
Pao tried to cast Verun Kaa—a repulsion glyph—but the tag burned in his hand before he could release it.
The body laughed.
The laugh was wet, slow, and came from its stomach.
Then it screamed.
The blood-soaked cloth burst into fire.
The wood snapped.
And the body pulled free from the pillar with one loud crack.
Its spine bent the wrong way.
Its legs bent sideways.
And it moved fast.
Tarn jumped between it and Elian. He swung his wrapped blade and struck the thing's shoulder.
The sword didn't cut through.
But it slowed the creature down.
Karis circled to the side and slashed across its back. It didn't bleed.
It only turned to face her and opened its mouth wider than its jaw should allow.
Then it lunged.
Pao froze.
The mark on his chest burned hotter than ever.
The sound of the fight faded.
His vision blurred.
FLASHBACK
He was lying in a field of ashes.
Solon knelt beside him, wrapping a cloth around his burned arm.
"You froze," Solon said.
"I didn't know what to do."
"Then learn now."
Solon pointed to the sky.
"You don't fight because you're brave. You fight because no one else will. When you feel pain, that's the mark waking up. Use it. Turn it into fire."
Back in the present, Pao shouted, "Tarn, duck!"
He threw a stun tag at the creature's feet.
It exploded with a flash of white light.
The creature shrieked and backed away.
Karis stabbed forward and drove her blade through its chest.
It didn't die.
It kept laughing.
Pao grabbed a burn tag—designed for cursed materials—and slapped it onto the creature's face.
"Lantern burn," he whispered.
The mark on his chest flared.
The tag exploded with white fire.
The creature howled—its voice changing from laughter to fear.
Then it dropped.
Smoke rose from its body.
It didn't move again.
They stood in silence.
Elian was pale.
Karis wiped her blade.
Tarn checked the walls.
Pao's chest still hurt.
"That wasn't a normal corpse," Elian said.
"No," Karis replied. "It was turned."
"By what?"
Pao answered, "By the breath. The seal isn't just breaking—it's feeding. On anything left alive."
They marked the chamber and returned to the split path.
Pao placed another detection tag on the locked door.
This time, the glyph didn't glow red.
It stayed dark.
Which meant the trap was no longer active.
"Something passed through," he said.
Karis nodded. "Open it."
Pao turned the handle.
The door creaked open.
Inside was darkness.
And a staircase.
Leading even deeper.
They didn't go in yet.
Karis called for rest.
They set up camp in the corner of the large chamber. One lantern lit. No fire.
Pao didn't sleep.
He sat against the wall and looked at the creature's remains.
Its skin was cracked now.
Underneath was black stone.
Not flesh.
The breath had turned it into something else.
Not alive.
Not dead.
Just wrong.
He opened his journal.
"Day 1 – Korr Vale mines. Creature found tied to old ritual post. Resembled corpse but moved fast. Spoke. Recognized me. Possibly part of a memory-binding spell. Burn tag destroyed it, but normal weapons failed."
He stopped.
Then wrote:
"There are worse things than death in these tunnels."