Third time's the charm.

  I crept into the haunted residence with the infused spear at the ready.

  My Sight was good enough to sense the dispersed presence of the shade, and my mask kept me hidden.

  Instead of triggering it, I came close enough for a charge and reaffirmed the intent in the infused spear.

  Harm.

  The only intent behind the energy trapped in the spear's tip was harm, pure and simple.

  With quick, broad strokes, I started to slash at the thickest of the presence. The shade reacted immediately by trying to reform into a more compact form and retreating, but I was on it, and the target didn't survive the following scores.

  The inky blot shuddered one last time and poured to the floor.

  With a tired sigh, I sat down and concentrated on Draining the remaining essence.

  This—the third shade hunt—was by far the most straightforward from the last few days.

  I didn't let the shade form and attack me, nor had I let it run around in unnecessary pursuit—those were the mistakes I made in my first two solo hunts.

  It was a surprise to me that the immaterial creature could have an effect on me. The first shade I hunted alone had made a few lunges with terrifying speed and a mass of teeth and claws. And this time, my Sight and attunement were good enough to notice it.

  Every time I was scared, there was a leak of energy from my person, and the beast was hungrily devouring it faster than I could react.

  Even knowing that it couldn't physically hurt me was not enough to not flinch and retreat when it attacked.

  The second shade went better. I had used an unrelenting attack but made the mistake of showing myself to it too early.

  I thought it needed to coalesce into a smaller form to take damage, and all it got for me was more running and chasing.

  This one, the third, was like a balm to my bruised ego. Finally, doing everything right, like a well-oiled machine executing the plan and reaping the reward.

  Compared to people, it was even simpler to affect the shades with my obscuring spell as the influence was carried by my mana along with fear. And could there be a better option to feed the shades than mana and fear? They were built to subside on the stuff, consuming it greedily and accepting my imploration to ignore me with every drop.

  Only one thing left a sour taste in my mouth.

  It took me several days and methodically combing through half of the city's streets to find those three.

  The sheer amount of walking I had to perform was soul-crashing, an ultramarathon in walking for a weak and untrained guy like me.

  Flight was infeasible for how power-hungry, taxing, and slow it was, and any attempt at devising a teleportation spell was met with failure. Even my attempts to teleport a minuscule pebble on the palm of my hand weren't successful, so what could be said about moving my whole body over great distances?

  I found more ghouls, of course. But why would I attack them when I had a safer target in mind?

  I easily stayed out of their reach and the notice of the parties hunting them during my travels.

  Enough, I decided, standing up.

  It was as good a time as any to relax and socialize with other people. I've got what I set out to get, and it wouldn't do me any good to get too greedy.

  ***

  Expectations are a funny thing.

  Sometimes you expect something good to happen only to be disappointed. Other times you could be too pessimistic and wait for the other shoe to drop, only for things to turn out to be better than expected.

  But really, most expectations are not about something special happening, good or bad. Instead, most expectations are the daily experiences of finding things the same way you have left them.

  Things were not the same way I left them.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The plaza was flowing with blood. Dozens of people were running around fighting, savagely beating each other with stone weapons and bone spikes, stabbing one another in cruel thrusts.

  In a pique of madness, several attackers were using their teeth, ripping out pieces of flash from the sick.

  Most people were like me, watching the happenings at a distance in indecision and fear.

  I stood still, surprised at the grisly sight. My pulse quickened, and I could feel my mouth dry, even from witnessing it all happen from a safe spot. Most of the fighting was closer to the Pillar, and I hoped Kenny wasn't somehow mixed up in all of it.

  Even with my ability to hide, I didn't make a move to come closer or get involved. The witch had proven to me that there was nothing unbeatable about that ability.

  I shuddered as I saw a man's rib cage repeatedly crushed with a stone hammer. Someone else was running away with a spike running through his abdomen and coming out of their back.

  It was horrifying to see how much punishment the human body could take and still cling to life.

  Eventually, the fighting stopped, the attackers retreating around the Pillar with still struggling victims in their clutches. One that was easy to notice was wearing the white robes of the Temple, now stained with blood and mud.

  I slowly moved through the carnage, wading to the shop. The lines of the sick were hit the hardest, but even that didn't explain the losses I was seeing.

  There were no more than twenty attackers, and they took several people in addition to the ones they butchered on the spot, but it didn't explain the missing numbers. At least a quarter of the sick has been missing since I last saw them. So that's around fifty people. And something was telling me it wasn't because someone charitably fed them and nursed them back to health, even if it was possible.

  What the hell was going on?

  ***

  "The fuck happened here?" Victor bellowed.

  The plaza was buzzing with activity. There was only one item on the agenda, but there was no end to discussing it.

  Thanks to the universal ability to Heal, the attack survivors were whole again, with only the new tears and blood on their clothing to remind them of the horrors they had just lived through.

  Teams of hunters returned only to be regaled with the same story, speculations on further attacks, and plans of retaliation or relocation.

  Victor was widely respected, and he commanded the largest crew that was still based at the plaza. His word could turn the whole discussion into one eventuality or the other.

  While Edith was bringing him up to date, I noticed someone wearing a white robe running into the temple. She was agitated, more angry than sad. It could be Maggie, but the figure disappeared faster than I could recognize them.

  Apparently, several hours prior, someone from the coven noticed a kidnapping attempt. The resulting uproar was enough to send the assailants packing, and Douglas was contacted to stop this from happening again.

  "Douglas wasn't here," Edith repeated. "But all of the raiders were his people."

  "How many were there?" Victor asked.

  "Around twenty," Edith replied. "But we know he has more than that."

  Victor looked over the heads of the people that surrounded him. Kenny was among them, unhurt.

  "Where's Benjy?" He asked.

  Edith shook her head.

  "Dead," Edith sadly supplied. "And Drained on the spot."

  Another oddity of this place I have come to discover in the wake of the attack was that fully Drained bodies vanished. The same thing was true for the sick—they disappeared when the body's energy was low enough, and the sight of them was lost.

  The most delusional hoped they were returned home in the same fantastical way we were brought here, but realistically they were most likely just dead.

  Claire called it "taken by the goddess"—everything had a religious explanation with that one.

  "We're not going to let it stand," Victor growled. "He's gonna pay."

  He looked around, visibly restraining himself.

  "Someone's gotta show him he got too big for his breaches. We're gonna march there and make them all pay for it!" He cried.

  His outcry garnered him mixed responses, even from his crew. As it turns out to be, not many people were eager to risk their lives.

  "How they gonna pay for it?" Some older lady called out. "We gonna start killing each other like rabid animals now?"

  "I don't wanna kill anyone," someone else cried out over the ensuing uproar.

  People suddenly understood what revenge would entail on their part, and they were not keeping their displeasure quiet.

  "We're not gonna kill anyone-" Victor tried to calm everyone.

  But the commotion continued to shift into a higher gear.

  "Silence!"

  Claire's interruption could not come at a more opportune time.

  She was standing at the top of the temple stairs, not making a move to close the distance with everyone else. It was only three steps, but it granted her grandeur on an instinctual level.

  The wall of white robes backing her up wasn't too bad, either. I was glad to see Maggie safe and sound among them.

  Her voice carried over the distance without any stress.

  "You've rejected the Goddess's Blessing. Instead, you chose to feed on the corrupted flesh, and now you are reaping the consequences."

  Yay. A sermon.

  "I didn't," someone yelled.

  "It's just essence," someone else shouted. "It was cleaned."

  The crowd naturally started to gravitate toward her, as it was straining to shout when her words carried so easily.

  "You think your inept fumbling could rival the Goddess?" she asked back. "No. The only right way is to receive it as a divine blessing."

  She looked over the crowd like a teacher chiding her young pupils.

  I could almost forget the fact that she discovered magic just a couple of days before me, her speech—an annoying religious drivel born from her delusions or intentional malicious grifting.

  I could hear cries for her advice and help from her followers, mainly those that were not good enough to join the Temple officially but went there as parishioners instead.

  Not everyone shared my skepticism.

  "The coven will not take part in any infighting," she trudged on through the building buzz. "All we can offer is Cleansing for those who are afflicted with the corruption. Don't let that hunger grow inside of you. Don't lie to yourself. You know that you can feel it taking root in your soul." She took a dramatic pause. "I can see you."

  The high priestess gave off a piercing stare into specific spots in the crowd.

  I don't know if she could see the corruption that way, but her performance was outstanding. It was the best sales pitch this place has ever seen—offering services without getting in on the hostilities.

  "That's mighty nice of you," Victor cried out. "But what about Douglas? We gonna let him attack us like this? An awful lot of folk died right here."

  "The coven will not be involved," The witch stated with finality.

  "You're already involved. At least one white robe, an initiate-" I corrected myself. "-was carried away. Alive."

  Claire's face soured at that.

  "It's too late for him," She replied.

  I didn't know if she meant she didn't plan to help or if she legitimately had some way of knowing his well-being.

  "I'm sure he'll be glad to know you were so fast to give up on him," Edith sneered.

  "Careful now," Victor warned Claire. "You wouldn't want your choir boys to think you'd abandon them at the drop of a hat like that."

  Claire glanced back, stopping on Maggie, and turned back to glare at Victor.

  "I would suggest you talk with respect," Claire bit back. "As to my students, they are free to make their own choices. I don't presume to restrict their freedom."

  With parting words, she turned around and returned to her temple.

  The last of the resistance gone, Victor got into convincing and organization.

  He had a war to plan.