As the trio continued their expedition into the forest, Zeroth and Ardric in the lead while Varic kept a few paces behind the two brothers, Zeroth could not fully ignore a feeling of dread that the path ahead will lead him unto something sinister. Zeroth instinctively reached around behind himself and ran the ends of his thick fingers across the hilt of his new axe as if it is the source of the unwelcomed feelings. As if a candle were blown out, the feeling disappeared, leaving nothing but the lingering excitement for adventure.

  "I wonder what that was about." Zeroth muttered under his breath, ruffling some of his moustache.

  Within a few hours of travel, as the sun passed its highest and hottest point, Ardric stopped in his tracks and with an eyebrow slightly raised looked towards Varic. "Have you noticed, the further we go down this path that should cut through part of a rather unexplored section of forest, the air seems... heavier? I can breath better in a swamp yet here, even though the air seems crisp and dry, the pressure is abnormal."

  Varic huffed, sliding his hand through his short black hair. "If you are asking if this is a magical driven pressure you will have to give me a moment to see if I can detect anything out of the ordinary, though I hope we aren't stepping foot where we ought not."

  As Ardric and Zeroth walked towards Varic, He assumed a stance, his eyes glowing with a dark green hue as he reached out with his magical senses. After a tense moment of concentration, he released the magical hold, returning his eyes to their normal emerald green. "There's something unnatural here. Someone's amassing magical energy for who knows what—destruction, I think."

  Ardric sighed and pinched his brow. "Alright we have some options here for us, option one being to be the good people we think we are and investigate or we can add a week to our travel time and go around this whole ordeal." Varic smiled wryly at the mention of ignoring the problem and moving on but Zeroth was having none of Varic's attitude. "If that is the way we have to go without adding a week to our time, we might as well tackle this little problem, if it turns out to be one."

  Zeroth, with a massive grin on his face, patted Varic on the back. "Don't worry friend, I know you are soft and you know we'll keep you well out of harms way." Varic rolled his eyes as an answer.

  As they forged ahead, their decision was abruptly punctuated by a blood-curdling scream echoing through the forest, seemingly originating from a point further up the path. Instinctively, the trio sprinted toward the source, finding a grisly scene: a mess of mangled bodies lay amid the wreckage of a merchant caravan.

  Zeroth tightened his grip on the Flaming Berserker Battle Axe, flames flickering to life along its edges. Zeroth flinched as the axe lit in flame.

  "How the hell did I manage this?" he asked himself.

  The stench hit first—a thick, putrid miasma of rotting flesh and rancid earth, forcing its way down their throats like something alive. Zeroth gagged, gripping his flaming battle axe tighter as the monstrous boar emerged from the underbrush, its bulk heaving and wrong.

  It was massive, easily the size of a warhorse, its hide patchworked with exposed muscle and sickly gray fur hanging in clumps. Its hollow eyes burned with an eerie, unnatural light, leaking necrotic ooze with each labored breath. The thing shouldn’t have been standing, let alone moving, yet it did—its limbs jerking and twisting as if something unseen were puppeteering its bloated corpse.

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  Ardric drew his sword, his knuckles white against the hilt, glancing at Zeroth and his flaming axe. “By the gods…” he muttered, taking a step forward out of instinct to protect his companions.

  “Not a goddamn thing holy about that,” Varic gritted, fingers already crackling with arcane energy as he pulled together the unstable magic for an Eldritch Blast.

  The boar moved first. It didn’t charge—it lurched, its head whipping unnaturally to the side before its legs caught up, its body slamming into the ground with each thunderous step. The ground trembled beneath its weight. Maggots, fat and writhing, poured from a gaping hole in its side, their movements pulsing in tandem with the rhythmic twitch of exposed sinew.

  Then it screeched. Not a growl. Not a roar. But a sound that split the air like splintering bone and rusted metal grinding together—a horrific, mind-raking cacophony of suffering. Zeroth’s skull vibrated, his vision swimming from the unholy wail.

  Ardric barely had time to raise his sword before the undead monstrosity was upon them. He braced for impact, but it was like being hit by a mountain. The sheer weight sent him flying backward, crashing into a tree with bone-rattling force. Something cracked—Zeroth wasn’t sure if it was Ardric’s armor or his ribs. The paladin groaned and slumped against the bark as he tried to push himself up.

  Zeroth didn’t have time to check on him. The boar had turned its sickly, drooling maw toward him now. He raised his battle axe, flames roaring to life, the heat licking at his beard. Then it leapt.

  For something so massive, it moved impossibly fast. Zeroth barely rolled aside before a pair of rotten tusks, each the length of a man’s arm, gored the spot where he stood. The ground split beneath the impact, dirt and shattered stone raining down.

  Zeroth swung. His axe connected, flames hissing as they bit into the creature’s side. The boar screamed, not in pain—this thing could not feel pain—but in rage. Its bloated skin bubbled where the axe struck, blackened flesh bursting like overripe fruit, spraying putrid gore across the ground.

  A massive hoof lashed out, catching Zeroth in the gut. His world blurred as he was sent sprawling, skidding across the dirt. His breath left him in a choked wheeze, the wind knocked from his lungs. Zeroth could scarcely feel the ground tremble at the boar's advance.

  “MOVE!” Varic’s voice cut through the haze, and then boom—a crackling bolt of eldritch force slammed into the side of the beast’s head. The impact twisted its neck at an unnatural angle with a grotesque pop, its skull hanging limp for a horrifying second before snapping itself upright again.

  Zeroth gritted his teeth. This thing didn’t die easy. Fine. He’d just have to hit it harder.

  The fire in his axe flared in response. His blood roared in his ears as he surged to his feet, charging forward. The boar met him head-on, its mouth gaping open, revealing a second, smaller jaw within, writhing hungrily.

  Zeroth didn’t stop. He planted his feet, swung with all the force he could muster and buried his axe into the boar’s skull. Flames erupted through its rotted cranium, pouring from its grotesque eye sockets. The beast convulsed violently, its body jerking as if trying to reject the death being forced upon it. Its hooves scraped at the earth, muscles spasming, but Zeroth held firm, pressing down with all his might.

  Then Ardric was there. With a roar, the paladin plunged his glowing blade through the creature’s throat, divine energy flooding into its foul form. The boar twitched—then shrieked, its dying wail rattling through the trees, sending birds scattering into the night sky.

  A tremor shook the ground as its body finally stilled, black ichor seeping from its wounds. Zeroth took a step back, panting, wiping sweat and blood from his face. The air reeked of charred flesh and rotting death.

  Varic approached cautiously, his hands still pulsing with residual magic. “Tell me that thing’s really dead.”

  Zeroth yanked his axe free from the beast’s skull, a thick plume of smoke curling from the wound. He scowled down at the still form, his fingers tightening around the hilt.

  “If it ain’t, I’ll kill it again.” he grunted.

  Panting and battered, the trio surveyed the aftermath. The stench of decay lingered in the air as Varic caught his breath, and Zeroth went to inspect the caravan. Ardric, his armor dented, nodded approvingly. They stood victorious, having faced a formidable foe and emerged triumphant through their combined strength and teamwork.