The next morning, Aamon and his team arrived at the Adventurers' Association, the rising sun casting long shadows across the cobbled streets of Dusk Town.
Without delay, Aamon strode up to the front desk. The receptionist, a composed woman with tied auburn hair and a professional demeanor, looked up as he approached.
Aamon spoke calmly but firmly.
"One of our team members has advanced to the 2nd Order. We'd like to take the rank-up quest."
The receptionist gave a small nod.
"Understood. First, we'll need to verify your advancement before we can issue a promotion assignment."
She rose from her seat and gestured for them to follow.
The group was led down a side corridor into the Association's energy testing chamber—a quiet, rune-lit room with a polished obsidian slab at its center. Aamon stepped forward and placed his hand on the glowing crystal set into the slab. A golden pulse of energy surged from the crystal, forming two solid rings in the air before fading.
The receptionist studied the result with a slight nod of approval.
"Confirmed. A 2nd Order cultivator."
She turned crisply on her heel and led them back to the main counter.
There, she withdrew a sealed parchment from a drawer and laid it before Aamon.
"Your test mission is here." She tapped the document.
"There's a villa near the edge of the slums. Lately, there've been whispers that the place is haunted. Normally, we'd dismiss such things as superstition... but several residents have gone missing recently. Enough that we had to take it seriously."
She lowered her voice slightly.
"There's suspicion this might be the work of a new, clandestine organization setting roots in the town. The mission's goal is to investigate the area. You'll pass as long as you return with valid information—especially if it's tied to illegal activity."
The receptionist then handed Aamon a map, the location of the villa marked with red ink near the bottom edge.
"Be cautious. Something doesn't feel right about this one."
Aamon accepted the map with a nod.
"Understood."
With that, the team departed the Association, the air around them turning heavier with each step. A faint wind blew from the direction of the slums, carrying with it a strange stillness—an omen of something hidden in the dark.
They were heading straight into it.
As Aamon and his team followed the winding alleys deeper into the slums, the bustling noise of Dusk Town began to fade behind them. The air grew damp, the scent of mildew and rot thickening. Dilapidated buildings leaned into one another like drunken old men, and ragged curtains fluttered from broken windows.
The villa stood in stark contrast to its surroundings—its mere presence unnatural.
The wrought-iron gates were rusted yet intact, covered in twisting vines that seemed to pulsate faintly under the dim light. Beyond them lay a crumbling stone path leading to a mansion that should've long been abandoned. Its once-elegant stone walls were cracked and darkened with time, and many of its windows were shattered or covered with rotting wooden planks. The air around it was unnaturally still, as though even the wind dared not touch it.
Weeds grew wildly in the overgrown garden, some with thorns long and sharp enough to pierce leather. Faint scratch marks—deep and erratic—lined the outer walls, as if something had tried to claw its way either in… or out.
The mansion's main door, tall and arched, stood slightly ajar. A slow creak sounded as the wind finally dared to stir, nudging it open just enough to reveal utter darkness beyond the threshold.
Yue took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowed.
"It doesn't feel haunted," she murmured. "But something... isn't right. The energy here is warped. Wrong."
Alexia's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of her blade, her voice hushed.
"This isn't the residue of ghosts. It's something alive... watching us."
Aamon remained silent, his gaze fixed on the villa as a small chill crept down his spine.
As they crossed the threshold, the temperature plummeted. The inside of the villa was deathly silent, layered with thick dust and cobwebs. Faint symbols—barely visible—were etched into the walls with dried blood, in a script none of them could immediately recognize.
Alexia knelt beside a dark smear on the floor.
"Drag marks. Recent. Someone was taken—maybe within the last day."
Yue pressed her fingers to the wall, a soft pulse of energy rippling from her.
"This house is layered with concealment. Magical formations are used."
Aamon didn't respond, but inside, his thoughts were already racing.
Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
And if the Association's suspicions were true, they weren't just investigating a haunted house.
They were walking into the lair of something that had no intention of letting them leave.
Aamon and his team had reached the top floor of the old villa. The wooden steps had groaned under their weight as they climbed, dust rising with every footfall. The decision was made: they would search from the top down.
The villa stood tall with three stories, its air heavy with time and decay.
The third floor was eerily silent. Long-abandoned furniture lay shrouded in white sheets, and the windows were coated in grime. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like age-old curtains, but nothing suspicious was found.
The second floor was much the same—at least at first glance. Faint streaks of dried blood lined the cracked wooden flooring. Drag marks trailed faintly along the corridor, leading toward an old guest room. But the room itself was empty. The tension thickened in their chests, but without further clues, they moved on.
When they reached the first floor, a sudden chill settled over them like an unseen fog. The air felt heavier, more oppressive. Alexia shivered unconsciously.
They spread out, searching in silence. Again, nothing unusual at first.
But as they regrouped at the central hallway, Aamon's eyes narrowed.
The drag marks… they weren't here before.
Now, they trailed freshly through the dust, red smearing the grooves.
Alexia's eyes widened, her senses sharpening as she took a deep breath. "The smell of blood is in the air," she whispered, voice tense. "It's fresh blood."
Aamon's grip on his sword tightened. The villa wasn't just old and abandoned—it was alive with something unseen.
Something was watching them.