Warning: This fic is rated M for a good reason due to graphic violence and disturbing imagery. This chapter has plenty of both since there'll be more zombies to fight.

A/N: Damn, it felt like an eternity since my last chapter especially with the whole insanity surrounding COVID-19. Hope everyone is staying healthy and being diligent with social distancing. Enjoy the new chapter! More to follow. Break.

Nord Highlands

Gaius Worzel stepped out of the tent, bundled in a fur coat to shield himself from the autumn air and the midnight lake breeze. Amid the cloudless night, the surface of Lake Lacrima glimmered from the reflected moonlight. As he strode forth, an insulated travel mug in each hand, he gave silent thanks to the Wind for parting the clouds so that he could enjoy the view. Yet the cool breeze did nothing to dispel the clouds within that had lingered for weeks. The Wind, the great sentient force which he and the other Highland nomads worshipped alongside Aidios, had grown more turbulent by the day. The people were growing restless, and their protectors were at a loss as to what was causing the disturbances.

With long strides befitting his tall stature, Gaius approached his destination: a pier extending onto the lake surface. A lone figure sat on the edge — his father Lacan, a warm and compassionate man despite his reputation as one of the Nord Highlands' mightiest warriors. After his graduation from Thors Military Academy months ago, Gaius had been training under his father's wing and growing stronger in both body and mind. His pace quickened, eager to consult his father on the growing sense of unease consuming both of them.

The soft crunching of grass soon gave way to hard clanging of boots on wood, causing Lacan to whip around to face the source of the sound. His father's uneasy expression melted into a weak smile; a gesture Gaius returned as he lightly lifted the two mugs.

"I see you cannot sleep either, my son," Lacan said as Gaius joined him on the pier and handed him one of the mugs. Unsealing the mug with a click, Lacan savored the traditional hot milk tea within.

"Indeed, father. The Wind grows more uneasy by the day," Gaius sighed after sipping from his own mug. "At first I thought it was simply the rising tensions between the Empire and the Republic, but there is something else."

"I see. Do you feel it too, then?" Lacan said. "Tell me, what do you feel? And how does it stand apart from the winds of war?"

"Earlier this year, during the Erebonian Civil War, I felt the winds of war for the first time. It was a scorching gale, howling with rage and fury," Gaius said. "This wind is different. It is still faint, and yet I could taste a lingering scent. The closest approximation I can think of is fresh carrion."

"This other wind. Where do you feel it is coming from?"

"The southeast," Gaius piped up as soon as Lacan finished asking. "Possibly in Republic lands."

"My son, you are becoming much more in tune with the Wind than before you left for Trista last year," Lacan smiled. "The Goddess has truly blessed you with wisdom beyond your years."

Gaius returned his smile before falling silent and staring across the still surface of the lake. He sipped from his hot mug in an attempt to chase away a chill that had nothing to do with the breeze.

"There's... something else, father," he said. "Another wind, one just as sinister and foreign as the one we spoke of. I have no other words for it, but I do know that it waxes and wanes with no pattern save for one: it always coincides with the appearance of that elusive phantom which plagues us.

"You know of my correspondence with my old classmates and friends at Thors," Gaius continued. "One of them has continued her studies in Crossbell. According to her letters, the same phantom that ails us has also appeared there."

Lacan said nothing at first, and the two sat in tense silence. After a few moments, the elder nomad sighed deeply as he massaged his temples.

"I see. This is an ill omen," Lacan said. "We must act swiftly lest our home falls prey to the unknown evil that is plaguing us. Have you contacted Father Barkhorn about this matter?"

"Indeed I have, and not just Father Barkhorn either," Gaius replied immediately. "I have reached out to my old teacher and a former classmate who have since become Bracers. You may have met them during the Imperial Civil War. They are staunch allies and valiant warriors."

"Good, their skills will be much needed, for we shall be hunting a mysterious and dangerous foe," Lacan nodded sagely. "May the Wind and the Goddess grant us victory, because I dread to think what would happen if we lose."

Pier, Hamlet

"Mr Heir, if there's four of us taking on this request, then how come only Joshua and I are here?" Estelle asked, voicing what Joshua wanted to say but was too hesitant to bring up.

"They are retrieving some supplies that are crucial for this expedition's success. Furthermore, they are already familiar with the location of our monster, but you two are not," the Heir replied as he retrieved a spyglass from an ornate bag he carried with him. "Do the two of you have devices similar to this one?"

Joshua and Estelle nodded in unison as they took out their own binoculars. The Heir raised his spyglass and gestured for the Bracer couple to do the same.

"Look at the bottom of the cliff. Now, shift your gazes right a smidge," the Heir instructed, and the Bracers followed along. "Do you see it? The cemetery of ships?"

Joshua adjusted the focus on his binoculars' lenses, trying to get a better look and figure out what the Heir was talking about. After a few knob twists and some intense squinting, he finally found what he believed was the target: a sandbar extending from the foot of the cliff further out into the stormy sea, littered with the wreckage of at least a dozen ships. Aside from sailing there, the only way to access it seemed to be a small cavern at the foot of the cliff.

"I think I see it now, Your Lordship," Joshua said before turning his attention to his girlfriend. "Estelle, can you see the sandbar too?"

"Nah, can't see it," she replied. "I'm looking at the ruins of some deserted mansion on the edge of the cliff."

The Heir suddenly flinched upon Estelle's mention of the mansion, but Joshua didn't put too much thought into it.

"You're too high up," Joshua instructed. "Drop your arms a rege or two."

"I see something, but it's too blurry. Hold up…" Estelle fiddled with her binoculars' diopters and focus knob before whistling sharply. "Hoo boy, what happened to all those ships? One of the wrecks looks pretty recent too."

"Another wave of mariners, another misfortune," the Heir said sadly. "What you are seeing is the work of a crew of drowned dead who refuse to go to their rest. They gather the ships they wreck as trophies and…"

"Hold up, we're dealing with the Necromancer Lord's leftover lackeys?" Estelle asked, lowering her binoculars. "I thought there are just stragglers hanging out in the Ruins."

"The Drowned Crew are not the result of the necromancer coven, but of some earlier tragedy. They were not raised by necromancy, but rather linger on because of some unknown tragedy," the Heir explained. "While the cause of their haunting remains a mystery, their actions have claimed the lives of far too many merchants and fishermen."

"And without them, this Hamlet teeters closer to starvation, am I right?" Joshua said.

"A very astute observation, Joshua. Even if they do not outright attack the vessels, their mere presence can create storms that make ocean travel hazardous," the Heir said. "I take it you encountered the Drowned Crew during your time in the Farmstead?"

"I have, and it was a harrowing and surreal experience. Although they are competent with their weapons, the anchor they carry is far more dangerous," Joshua replied. "Being choked out by its chain and feeling like I'm drowning on the seafloor is the stuff of nightmares."

"The others who have encountered the Crew share your sentiment. Rest assured, the two who will accompany you are seasoned veterans that are intimately familiar with the enemy's tactics," the Heir said. "Estelle, although you have no experience with the Drowned Crew, I have faith that fighting alongside your lover and two old friends will more than compensate for that."

"Don't worry, Mr. Heir. Joshua and I have dealt with far nastier surprises," Estelle said. "Who are those old friends anyway? I'm pretty familiar with everyone here by now, so this doesn't really narrow things down."

"Hey, boss! Did we miss anything?" Dismas' voice called out from behind, and the trio turned towards him. Joshua saw that he was accompanied by one of the Crusaders and that they both had rucksacks stuffed to the brim.

"Not at all, Dismas. I was just introducing the Bracers to the Drowned Crew's hunting grounds," the Heir answered. "I wanted to wait until you and Reynauld could join us before I go any further."

"We have obtained the necessary provisions, My Lord," Reynauld said. "Please give us the details necessary for our holy quest."

"The Drowned Crew are different from regular monsters or even the products of necromancy. While sorcery and conventional weapons can harm them and even banish them for a time, they cannot permanently destroy them," the Heir explained. "We managed to gather this much from the previous two attempts at eliminating the threat. We also know that the anchor which they wield as a weapon has something to do with their lingering. This is where Reynauld comes in."

"I have never studied at a seminary, as my 'ordination' was through the bloody fire of war. Yet I do know my way around the Church's rites, including one that will dispel the anchor's dark sorcery and send the Drowned Crew to their final rest," Reynauld said. "Our delay in arriving was due to a detour we took, whereby we obtained the equipment required to set up the rite."

Interesting. I bet Father Kevin or another Gralsritter member would have been great for this request, Joshua mused as he jotted down the details in his notebook, and Estelle followed suit. It's nice having some context about my enemies instead of fighting them blind like back at the Farmstead.

"Estelle, Joshua, your roles are two-fold. Number one: keep the Drowned Crew distracted and rooted in one spot while Reynauld makes his preparations. By all means wound them, but do not land the killing blow under any circumstances. If you do, it will only delay our efforts to banish them for good," the Heir said. "Number two: you will be taking the long route to approach the sand bar, and I'm sure there will be no shortage of enemies. You along with Dismas need to keep Reynauld safe."

"Keep 'em busy but don't actually kill them? Got it. Joshua already mentioned how much it sucks to get wrapped up by their anchor chain, so we'll try to avoid that," Estelle said. "I got a question, though. Shouldn't we bring some more Light-worshippers just to be safe? What about Junia, Damian, and the other Crusaders?"

"Excellent question, Estelle. Damian's skillset is simply unsuitable for combat in the Cove, as fervent as his zeal may be. Junia is currently preoccupied with other matters, and so art Baldwin and my other brothers," Reynauld explained. "I trust I answered thy question in a satisfactory fashion?"

"Yeah, I guess that'll do. Thanks, Reynauld," Estelle said.

"What the big man here forgot to mention is that out of everyone else, the two of us would rather fight alongside you considering your track record," Dismas said to Estelle before turning his attention to Joshua. "Knowing how much your lady here talked you up before you came, you'll join our saintly list soon enough. Can't say I'm not curious about your combat skills either. Those blades look like fine pieces of work."

"Indeed they are. They're made of Zemurian Ore, one of the strongest and rarest materials known to man back home," Joshua said as he brandished his blades. "I got them shortly after Estelle and I became a couple, and all three of them are my most cherished companions in battle."

"Oh, you…" Estelle chuckled as she lightly tapped on Joshua's butt with her staff.

"Damn, those are some huge blades you got there. You look like you have a lot of practice with them too." Dismas unsheathed his own dagger. "It's not the biggest knife, but it gets the job done. Plus I have pistols in case I want a longer reach.

"Before I forget, Reynauld and I were on both of the previous expeditions sent to kill them," Dismas added. He took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "This is a map of the sandbar, with the new wreckage hastily drawn on top. Although those walking fish freaks don't usually go to the sandbar for some reason, the Drowned Crew love to hide among the wreckage and ambush us. Let's get the drop on them instead."

"I happen to be somewhat of an ambush expert myself." Joshua graciously took the map. "Estelle and I may need some time to look this over. How much time do we have before we leave?"

"After lunch, perhaps? I would like to be on our way before dusk, yet I am also an ardent supporter in breaking bread with a future companion in order to know them better," Reynauld said. "Once we arrive in the Cove, we shall time our attack according to when the tides are at their lowest. Dost thou have any concerns or objections?"

Dismas, Estelle, and Joshua shook their heads, content with Reynauld's proposal. With that settled, the four of them plus the Heir left the docks. While the Heir went to his office, the party went to the Tavern for their meal and some last-minute preparations.

Cove, Six Hours Later

When Joshua had been trapped in the Farmstead, everything had seemed so sterile and lifeless outside of combat. There had been no wind of any sorts, no background, and absolutely no smell. The first thing he noticed when he entered the cove was how bad it smelled, exacerbated by the moisture in the air and the wind that howled between the narrow rocky passageways. It was nothing like the clean, crispy air back in Ruan. Instead, the Cove smelled of salt-scented decay as if all the fish in the world had died there.

"I almost froze my arms and legs off the first time I came here. My clothes didn't help whatsoever," Estelle said. "The smell is pretty awful, but at least we're not in the Warrens. Now that place stinks."

"I take it we'll end up heading there eventually?" Joshua asked, remembering how awful the place sounded based on what she had told him. Then again, none of the places she had gone to sounded pleasant at all. He clenched a fist just thinking about the ordeals his girlfriend had gone through in his absence. I can't let that ever happen again to Estelle. Someone like her should never have to go through these things.

"Yeah, we will. Me talking about the place doesn't really do it justice," Estelle replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's keep going."

As the party ventured further into the cave system's depths, Joshua wondered if the Warrens smelled anything like the bloodshed and filth he had experienced to in the past. Surely it would not be anything he's not used to, would it?

Soon, the group ran into a few groups of hostiles. With Joshua's stealthy expertise, they always got the drop on the enemy and dispatched them with ease. The fishmen and assorted hostile sea creatures all strongly smelled of brine and rancid fish, but it was nothing Joshua couldn't handle, especially compared to the bloodshed from his Ouroboros days.

As they approached a turn in the tunnel, the smell of rotting meat mixed with seaweed and other dead marine life grew stronger. The team readied their weapons and waited for the enemy to close in. As the first hostile rounded the corner, the group reflexively backpedalled and wrinkle their noses at the smell.

Unlike the other enemies they had encountered so far, this enemy had been a human being in the past. Lifeless eyes bored into the adventurers as its bloated bulk lurched forward, a sickening gurgle emanating from its mouth. Dismas struck first, pulling out a pistol and landing a shot square in the walking corpse's chest. As the revenant staggered, three more rounded the corner and shuffled towards Joshua and his companions.

"Pull back!" Joshua called out as he and Estelle whipped out their Orbments. With practiced ease, the couple readied Arts that targeted groups. The plan was simple and well-honed through experience: Joshua would cast first, and Estelle would follow up if his Art didn't take the enemy down.

Reynauld quoted some verse from his religion's scripture while brandishing a scroll. Joshua's brief confusion was washed away when a searing glowing wave exploded from the scroll and slammed into two of the corpses, scorching their mottled decaying skin. The scent stirred up traces of unpleasant memories for Joshua, but he ignored it and cast his Art. Amidst haunting howls of the damned, a haze surrounded the walking corpses before an ethereal scythe madly spun amidst the enemy, slicing them to ribbons. The corpses popped like macabre balloons and showered the immediate area with salt-soaked viscera. Joshua and Estelle both winced at the stench, and it seemed that Estelle was far more disturbed by the enemy than he was.

With the threats neutralized, Estelle aborted her Orbment's casting sequence while Dismas wasted no time in rifling through the mangled remains. He seems to know what he's doing. Must have been a seasoned criminal. That explains a few things…

Joshua looked over to Estelle and saw how uneasy she looked. He recalled what she had told him about the undead attack on the Hamlet and how badly it had shaken her, so he briskly walked over to his girlfriend and placed a hand on her back. As much as Estelle glowed with sunshine, she still had rough patches from time to time. Joshua never hesitated to provide the reassurance she needed during those moments, and sometimes no words were necessary. It was one of those moments. Her tense posture immediately melted away when she felt his touch, and she nodded at him in gratitude.

"We never had those back home. Then again, necromancers weren't even a thing," Estelle said solemnly, seemingly addressing not only Joshua but also Reynauld and Dismas. Her grip around her staff tightened. "If these were some of his remaining creations, good. Because I want to burn his legacy to the ground."

"The necromancer coven was not the only group capable of such evil, Estelle," Reynauld said. "The pelagic creatures that prowl the sea's depths are also capable of such dark sorcery. They see the drowned dead as nothing more than fodder and slaves."

"They're no different from the Necromancer Lord, then. Just another reason for me to kick their sorry asses when I see them," Estelle scoffed. "We can't let their evil plague innocent traders and travellers any longer, but enough talking. We should keep moving. You almost done there, Dismas?"

"Yup, sure am," the Highwayman rejoined the group, his pockets sagging and jingling with newfound coin. "Let's head out."

The group ventured deeper into the caverns, following a map of the area that had been charted from the blood and sweat of previous expeditions. As expected, the group ran into more pockets of resistance. Joshua soon noticed that their encounters with drowned revenants were becoming more frequent — and Estelle's mood was sinking as a result.

She had been oddly silent, devoid of the usual small talk and quips. Her confident posture was beginning to give way to anxiety: her eyes darting around with alarming frequency, her staff clenched in a death grip, and her breathing louder and more rapid. Every once in a while, he would reach out and gently caress her to calm her down, but the symptoms would always resurface soon after. It pained Joshua to see Estelle like this, but there was only so much he could do while everyone was on edge and in the middle of what was essentially a monster nest.

Bracers would do a lot of monster hunting over their careers, and it was no different for Estelle and Joshua. Yet it was the first time Joshua had seen Estelle's nerves so frayed, and he knew exactly who was to blame. With Reynauld having (rightfully) slain the Necromancer Lord before Joshua had the opportunity to exact his vengeance, Joshua was squarely focused on finding another way to rid his sun of that bothersome eclipse.

"The increasing resistance from the Drowned Thralls is a sign that we are approaching our quarry's domain," Reynauld said. "Be on thy guard."

"Reynauld, is it possible to rest a little?" Joshua asked. "Estelle…she's…"

"Yes, of course. That would not be an issue," Reynauld immediately replied to Joshua's relief, his voice soft with understanding. "I am no strangers to the toll these quests have on one's soul."

"Besides, we always like to take a little break before cracking tough nuts," Dismas said. "Just need to find somewhere safe and spacious first."

A cursory examination of the map revealed that not only were they close to the sandbar, but that there was a chamber shortly before it. Dismas and Joshua flanked the heavy stone doors leading to it, with Reynauld and Estelle ready to rush in. Highwayman and Bracer grunted and heaved as they pushed the doors open, and in rushed Crusader and Bracer. There are doors in the caves? Interesting. The fish people must have added them.

"Guys, it's empty," Estelle called out from within, sounding relieved but also tired.

The team wasted no time in setting up the campfire and getting a stew going. As they waited for the food to cook, Joshua figured it was a good time to talk to Estelle about how she was doing.

"Estelle…" he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I know. Something's wrong with me. Something's been wrong ever since that day when the dead broke out of the Hamlet's cemetery," she said softly. "I thought the nightmares would be it, and that everything would get better after we took out that damned Necromancer Lord. But…but I was wrong…"

Estelle began to shiver despite the fire and her clothing, and Joshua hugged her close. She responded to the gesture in kind by wrapping her own arm around Joshua's waist.

"I know they're just walking corpses and that I fought them before. I know I can beat them and that what happened that day wasn't my fault. I know the best way to move forward is to keep fighting. I know we won, but it doesn't feel like it!" Estelle suddenly shouted, causing their companions to look towards them. "Just being here thinking about those bloated lumbering sacks of pus makes me feel like I'm back in the Ruins fighting for my life against those walking corpses. And you know what? This stupid wind doesn't help! Whenever I hear the howling pick up, I always think about those meatsacks! I try fighting it, but it doesn't help…those pictures always come back!"

The couple stared at the fire in silence, clinging onto each other and savoring the warmth. Joshua wanted to say so many things, so many ideas to comfort Estelle with, but he knew better. He knew his girlfriend like the back of his hand and could usually guess what she had in mind with uncanny accuracy, but he still always let her finish whenever she spoke rather than interrupt her and put words in her mouth. After all, she had done the same for him three years ago during that chilly summer night on top of Grancel Castle when he had laid bare his dark past in full, and she had continued to give him that courtesy ever since. After a few minutes, Estelle spoke up again.

"I…I didn't know I was going to react this way when I came back here out of all places. I felt something like this a couple of times before, but never this intense," Estelle chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of any actual joy. "I can't even imagine what I'd be like if I went back to the Ruins. I…I just want to stay strong, to not be afraid of those freaks anymore."

Estelle buried her face in his shoulder, but it wasn't to cry. Joshua knew that whenever she did something like this, it was a sign that she'd finally said everything on her mind and that she was inviting him to speak up.

"Estelle, you are strong," Joshua said as he gently caressed her scars. "You've been torn away from home and sent into battle against monsters way worse than we're used to and yet you still forge on like you always do. You never cease to inspire me."

He paused and sighed, thinking back to his own dark memories. "That day in the cemetery... that day was your Hamel. But whereas I shattered like glass, you stood strong. You kept fighting. And you brought the one responsible for that tragedy to justice. That's true strength."

Some shuffling in front of them caused Estelle and Joshua to look up. It was Reynauld moving closer to the two of them.

"Estelle, victory does not always lead to catharsis. At least not right away. After that fateful day when my comrades and I put our slain brothers to the sword, even as we burned that accursed necromancer at the stake, we felt no peace. Like thee, we were plagued by nightmares and shattered nerves afterwards," Reynauld said, and Joshua made a mental note to ask him about the details after their return to the Hamlet. "I do not claim to be an expert in this, but I believe it is the result of the soul carrying such a heavy and horrific burden and not sin or any weakness on thy part. Despite thine own burden, thou performed admirably while fighting alongside my brothers and I. There is no shame in feeling like every battle may be thy last, as I feel the same way myself. The burden may not become lighter, but with time it shall become easier to bear as your soul grows stronger."

"Reynauld and Joshua already said everything I wanted to say, so I won't bore you with any fancy speeches. Just know that you're not alone. Everyone in the Hamlet is either looking for something or running away from something else. Just don't let whatever baggage you have stop you from doing your job," Dismas said as he got up to check on the stew. "After we're done here, all four of us need to go for drinks. I have a feeling the two of you have some really crazy stories to tell. In the meantime, let's just eat and get what sleep we can."

Aside from Reynauld offering a prayer of thanksgiving for the meal, the party ate in silence. At least for the first ten minutes anyway. After all that trekking and fighting, Joshua was glad to finally get some food into his system. The stew was simple and consisted of nothing more than salted pork, hardtacks, and dry vegetables softened up by soaking them in boiling water, but it was quite filling regardless. After wolfing down her portion, Estelle spoke up again.

"Hey, Joshua?" She said. "Thanks for hearing me out."

"After everything you and Dad did for me, it's the least I could do," Joshua smiled.

"I know that feeling of being on edge all the time won't go away any time soon, but I'll still fight. I know I can win, but my nerves just need a little convincing," Estelle said before turning to Reynauld and Dismas. "Maybe I'll even feel a bit better after I cave in a few undead skulls, so leave a few of those rotting freaks for me."

Reynauld mumbled something in agreement while Dismas simply smirked and nodded. As Estelle made smalltalk with Reynauld and Dismas, Joshua set about setting up tripwires and snares using the materials he had scavenged from the enemy's own traps. He joined Estelle afterwards, and the two cuddled by the fire until it was time to sleep. Joshua took first watch and set about prowling the cave chamber for any intruders. The fading fire cast gentle shadows throughout the cave, providing some relief from the tension of being in the middle of enemy territory.

He checked on his sleeping companions from time to time, mainly to make sure that Estelle was all right. Reynauld removed his helmet, and his weathered features seemed relaxed and peaceful, a far cry from his usual somber self. His stiff sleeping posture made him look like one of the many knight statues Joshua had seen in museums and ancient crypts. Dismas was splayed out like a drunkard and snored as if he was in a competition, looking far less dignified than Reynauld. Estelle herself was the other half of the snoring competition. She slept with an outstretched arm with fingers curled as if she was holding Joshua's hand. He found her struggling violently against the constraints of her sleeping bag a couple of times, but a kiss to the forehead was more than enough to calm her down. As the last embers of the campfire faded, Joshua roused Dismas to turn over the watch. He then tucked into the sleeping bag he had set next to Estelle's. Seeing that she still had her arm out, Joshua slid one of his own arms out and gently grasped her hand. As Joshua closed his eyes and drifted away, he heard Estelle coo in contentment.

The team packed away their gear quickly after waking up. After conducting some last-minute checks on their equipment and quartz setup, they headed towards the exit. The four found themselves in an even larger chamber that was roughly circular and mostly flooded save for the patch of dry ground they stood on. According to the map, the passageway on the other side led to the sandbar. However, it was blocked by a solitary figure with their back turned and whose head appeared to be hunched forward. I wonder who's daring enough to come out here alone?

"Don't worry. The water is only knee-deep," Dismas said as he brandished his dagger. "It didn't smell this bad last time I was here, though. Now, let's go say hi to our new friend."

"Wait, something is not right. There must be a trap elsewhere," Reynauld put a finger in front of where his mouth would be, causing Dismas to halt in his tracks. Reynauld stood still and faced the figure in silence. Joshua tried to make out more details, but it was too dark to see clearly. All he managed to deduce was the fact the figure wasn't wearing a shirt and seemed to have disheveled hair. Wait, he doesn't seem like he's breathing…

"Dismas. Fire upon it," Reynauld whispered, his voice firm with urgency. Estelle tried to object only for Reynauld to silence her with a shake of his head. She and Joshua watched intently, their eyes darting between Dismas and the figure while Dismas pulled out a pistol. As Dismas breathed deeply to steady his aim, Joshua reached behind his back and gently grasped the hilts of his swords. If Reynauld's judgement was correct, they were facing an unknown foe that even Joshua didn't know about despite his experience in the Farmstead.

And then Dismas fired, a thunderous crack echoing throughout the cave chamber. As the figure collapsed, several more emerged from the flooded portions of the cave. As one, the horde of Drowned Thralls shambled towards Joshua and his companions. Dismas took out another pistol and shot one of the walking corpses. The bullet struck its midsection, sparking the built-up gases from the decomposition process and detonating the corpse in a rain of slurry and bone fragments. The force of the explosion knocked several of the others down and even detonated some of them, buying the team more time to respond.

"Heh, didn't even have to aim for the eyes," Dismas smirked as he poured powder down the pistol's muzzle.

Meanwhile, Joshua and Estelle had already whipped out their ARCUSes and were preparing Arts of their own. Amidst the dimly-lit cave and the lights projected by their Orbments, Estelle's face looked far more pale than usual. Through their combat link, Joshua felt flashes of the gnawing anxiety that was saturating Estelle's mind despite her best efforts to fight it off. He wanted to reassure her, but they both knew the best reassurance is to take action and win. Joshua cast first, the Demonic Scythe cutting a swathe through more of the corpses. Yet a second wave of Drowned Thralls were already stirring and standing up in the fetid salt water.

Before Estelle could follow through with her own Art, however, the first figure Dismas shot stood back up and turned around. Even at a distance in the darkness, Joshua could see the eerie blue glow coming from its empty eye sockets and gaping mouth. It raised a violin and a bow of all things to its shoulder.

Then things went to hell.

A horrific screeching that could only be loosely described as violin music shrieked throughout the cavern, causing splitting headaches among Joshua and his companions. The maddening jig was somehow even able to abort Estelle's casting sequence. The party bent over, clutching their ears in agony.

"D-Dismas!" Estelle strained through gritted teeth. "Shoot it again, damn it!"

Dismas replied with nothing but panicked grunts and shouts. Joshua looked over and saw why: one of the Drowned Thralls, unaffected by the noise, had closed in and was swiping at him with its bloated arms. With his dagger, Dismas parried and dodged in an effort to go back on the offensive. The remaining Drowned Thralls were rapidly closing in as well, leaving no time for Estelle and Joshua to cast Arts. Roaring like a cornered yet ferocious beast, Estelle frantically lashed out with her staff. Her blow connected with the skull of one of the reanimated corpses, bursting it like a grape. As Joshua sliced and stabbed next to his girlfriend, he noticed Dismas finally gaining the upper hand and sinking his dagger into his foe's eyesocket. The creature thrashed weakly as rancid liquid ran down the blade before it went still for good.

Reynauld himself appeared to be the calmest of them all. Shouting litanies of fury at the top of his lungs, he fought with equal measures of ferocity and calm that only an experienced veteran could muster. As he cut down one Thrall after another, Reynauld was doing something no one else was doing: he was advancing. The thudding of his boots soon gave way to sloshing as he waded into the scum-ridden water, his goal clear to Joshua.

"Hey! What the hell are you —" Dismas shouted as he shot a Thrall in the head at point-blank range. His eyes widened in realization. "Estelle! Joshua! Reynauld needs cover!"

"You got it!" Joshua shouted back before tapping Estelle on the back. "We advance as one! Move!"

The three adventurers trudged forward even as the world spun around them, cutting, shooting, and bludgeoning their way towards Reynauld. Even as Joshua dizzily stumbled forward, he could see Reynauld was taking long and firm strides towards the undead violinist. How is he…Wait, it must be the helmet! It must be blocking out some of the noise!

As the water ran murky with the rancid fluids of the dead, the three adventurers joined Reynauld's advance. Any interlopers that dared to come near were swiftly obliterated. Joshua saw a figure in the water reaching for Reynauld's leg, so he stabbed. First in the offending arm, then in the head. As he pulled the blades out, he was slow to notice a Drowned Thrall coming towards him out of the corner of his eye.

"Joshua!" Estelle cried as she swung with all her might, but her arm was slightly off. The Drowned Thrall burst like a putrid bubble, sending the Bracer couple reeling back and spraying them with viscera. Estelle shrieked as she frantically wiped the gore from her tunic.

"Estelle!" Joshua rushed towards her, the combat link washing over him with a mix of panic and disgust. She was hyperventilating, and her face looked far paler than before. Yet even in her current state, he felt a fire starting to burn within her.

"I'm good! I'm good! Just —" She tried to reassure him before gagging and grunting. "I can still fight, damn it!"

A furious roar came from Reynauld's direction. The Bracer couple looked up and saw him swinging his sword at the unholy musician, Dismas fending off yet another Drowned Thrall by his side. As if a brake was being applied, the spinning world screeched to a halt as the undead violinist's head was hacked off in a single strike. At long last, silence reigned once more. Joshua motioned Reynauld and Dismas to join him before he cast a Breath. The refreshing Wind Art cleaned off any viscera that lingered on the adventurers in addition to healing any wounds they had sustained during combat.

"What the hell was that?" Estelle asked, her skin regaining a healthy pinkish tinge.

"I do not know, but it was a powerful foe despite their unassuming appearance." Reynauld took his helmet off and shook away the vomit that had smeared the interior. Joshua also noticed there were blood trails coming out of his ears. "We must report this to his lordship after our return."

"We'll worry about it after we get back, pal. You did great just now, but let's take a breather first and get ready for the big fight," Dismas said. "To quote our buddy Sarmenti: 'This was just the sideshow. The main attraction is yet to come.'"

As the combat-induced adrenaline rush wore off, the briny rotting musk invaded Joshua's nostrils with renewed fervor. After spending so long in the unnaturally sterile Farmstead, Joshua found the stench to be unbearable. Clearly his tolerance for unpleasant smells had greatly faded since his Ouroboros days. While Dismas reloaded his expended pistols and Reynauld went over his sword with a whetstone, Joshua bent over and gagged, wishing for fresh air. He soon felt a hand on his back.

Estelle's hand.

"Hey, how're you doing?" she asked.

"Could be better. It's been too long since I was exposed to something remotely vile as…all this," Joshua replied as he straightened out. "What about you? Are you doing all right?"

"I'm good. Really, I am," she smiled despite still clenching her staff in a death grip. "Turns out I was right about cracking a few skulls to feel better. Took me some effort to channel all my shaking and sweating into some good old anger and smash away, but it worked out."

"Good work. I'm glad to hear that and that you are okay," Joshua smiled back. "Good to go?"

"Sure am."

"Good. Let's go rejoin the others," Joshua said. "We have some restless spirits to banish."

A/N: End break. I'll be perfectly honest. I'm not sure when I'll be able to put up the next chapter. I've gave enough hints about my day job, and there's a good chance I'll deployed in support of coronavirus and/or disaster relief in my country.

To the medical professionals, first responders, and workers who keep the world going: I salute you. "Many fall in the face of chaos, but not this one, not today."

Until next time. Out.