CHAPTER 11: DREADMIRE

Wade scrambled after Ingrid, his boots sucking against the swamp mud with every desperate step.

Behind them, the swamp trembled as another massive wave surged forward, slamming into their legs.

The water nearly swept them both off their feet, the cold muck dragging at their knees. Wade staggered, throwing his arms wide to keep balance.

Ingrid caught herself with ease, bow already raised even as she moved.

Her pale blue eyes flicked back once, then forward again. "Move!" she barked.

Before Wade could gather his breath, a sound split the air.

A screech.

It was unlike anything Wade had ever heard.

It was shrill, echoing and vibrating through his skull until every thought in his head unraveled.

Fear surged like an icy flood, locking his legs in place. His sword wavered in his grip, and his heart hammered so wildly he thought it might burst from his chest.

Golden letters flashed before his eyes.

[You have been afflicted with: Terror]

[Effect: Movement sealed. Mind clouded by fear.]

Wade froze, breath coming in shallow gasps. His vision tunneled, the swamp fading into a blur of shadows.

No matter how much he tried, his body would not obey him.

"Wade!"

Ingrid’s commanding voice snapped through the haze. Her words cracked against his mind like a whip.

He blinked, his vision snapping back into focus. His legs trembled, but they moved again. The letters before his eyes flickered, then vanished.

[Affliction broken.]

He sucked in a breath and forced himself forward, splashing through the muck after her.

The swamp shook again as the monster screeched, louder this time.

The air vibrated. Wade felt the terror grip at him once more, claws raking his thoughts, but this time, he shoved it off.

His strengthened perception and agility flared, his senses better than before. His heart still pounded, but his mind stayed clear.

He risked a glance back.

The water boiled as something enormous rose up behind them. His stomach lurched at the sight.

It was a slime, but not like the ones he had fought.

Its body surged above the reeds, a writhing amalgamation of muck and filth, its shape constantly shifting as if it had stolen forms from a dozen different nightmares.

A massive mouth split its body open, jagged and serrated, wide enough to swallow a man whole.

Sebastian stood before it, axe raised high. His muscles bunched as he prepared for the swing. Rowan’s staff glowed brilliantly, the orb at its top blazing with power.

Both of them were now armored, having equipped it from their inventory, the plates covering their weak spots.

Wade’s eyes widened at the sight, and then golden letters flared before him. His Observe skill had activated on its own.

[Name: The Dreadmire]

[Level: ???]

The words seared into his mind, and he stumbled. Terror and awe mixed in his chest. The Dreadmire. Even its name was dangerous.

"Eyes forward!" Ingrid snapped, her voice filled with urgency.

Wade jerked his head around, nearly tripping over a root.

The sound of battle erupted behind them, the wet thump of steel striking against muck filling the air, with light flashing as Rowan’s magic surged.

Another screech filled the swamp, rattling Wade’s bones. He clenched his teeth and ran harder, following Ingrid’s lithe form through the water.

They splashed, ducked, and scrambled over roots, the waves lapping at their backs as if the swamp itself chased them. The swamp clung to them, sucking at their boots, and dragging them back.

Half an hour passed in that agonizing sprint. The screeches faded into the distance, though the echo of them still rang in Wade’s ears.

His lungs burned, and his legs screamed, but at last he felt solid ground beneath his feet. The reeds thinned, and the mist gave way to open air.

They stumbled out of Mirewood Swamp, collapsing onto the firmer earth near the stables.

Wade bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air. His back throbbed where the acid had seared him, and every movement he made sent pain racing up his spine.

He forced himself upright, turning toward Ingrid. "Sebastian... Rowan. Do you think they’ll be okay?"

Ingrid was calm as ever, adjusting her quiver. She didn’t even look winded. "They’ll be fine. Sebastian wouldn’t have ordered us out if he couldn’t hold the line. Rowan’s no weakling either."

Wade exhaled hard, his chest loosening a little. His mind replayed the sight of that massive slime rising from the swamp.

The Dreadmire. The very thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. But mixed in with the fear was something else. Excitement.

"One day," he murmured, half to himself, "I’ll face something like that."

He wasn’t sure if Ingrid heard him. Her expression didn’t change.

Pain brought him back to the present. His back burned, his arm throbbed, and his clothes clung to his body, damp and foul-smelling. He grimaced.

"You reek," Ingrid said flatly, her pale eyes narrowing slightly. "There’s a shower at the back of the stable. Show your badge. They’ll let you in."

Wade blinked, then managed a laugh, though it came out weak. "I’ll take that as advice, not insult."

"Do," Ingrid replied, already turning away.

Wade made his way to the stable, presenting his Lion’s Guild badge to the attendant. The man nodded and waved him through.

The showers were little more than a set of stalls fed by barrels of water, but to Wade they might as well have been a bathroom in a five star hotel.

He stripped out of his ruined clothes and let the cool water cascade over him, washing away muck, blood, and the faint sting of slime residue.

His back hissed with pain at first, but the steady stream soothed it, easing the worst of the burn.

He leaned forward, hands braced against the wall, letting the water rinse him clean. For the first time since they got out of the swamp, he felt like he could breathe.

Yet his mind didn’t rest. The Dreadmire’s screech still echoed inside him.

One day, the Dimensional Ledger would give him keys. Keys to dungeons no one else could reach. And when that time came, he’d be alone. No Sebastian, no Rowan, no Ingrid.

Alone against terrors like the one he had just seen.

He clenched his fists under the stream. He’d just have to prepare himself.

When the water finally ran clear, he pulled his fresh set of clothes from his Inventory.

The simple tunic and trousers felt heavenly after the ruined ones. He pulled them on, strapped his sword back to his shoulder, and stepped out of the stall.

The air outside was cooler, the stable quiet except for the sounds of horses shifting in their stalls.

Ingrid stood outside waiting, her bow across her back, her expression as blank as it always was. Her pale eyes swept over him once.

"Take off your shirt," she said, her voice flat.

Wade froze, blinking at her. "What?"