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The Mark of Nixis    

The lower deck was a scene of pure horror. Corpses littered the floor, their lifeless bodies twisted in grotesque positions. The tribe's children — once full of life — now lay sprawled in a nightmarish display, their skin shredded and torn as if savaged by wild beasts.

 

At the center of the carnage, Rysamora stood, her face a mask of fury and disgust. She pointed a wickedly sharp dagger at Linji, her voice trembling with rage. "What were you thinking?"

 

Linji was wide-eyed and desperate as he stumbled back, his words barely audible over Rysamora's venomous scolding. "I just . . . I was trying to keep him alive. I didn't mean—"

 

"Alive?!" Rysamora's voice cracked with fury. "By injecting him with the filth crawling under those monsters' skin? You fool! No magic can cleanse that taint, and you knew it!"

 

In the corner, Vodgo lay bleeding on a mat, his chest barely rising. If Tulemo were still alive, he would have bled Vodgo, trying anything to purge the poison seeping into his veins. But now it was too late. The moment Linji had used that injection, Vodgo's fate had been sealed.

 

Nukkos stood frozen, staring numbly at the mangled bodies of his kin, helplessness radiating from him as if he, too, had been struck down by the grief.

 

Linji turned toward Horizon, desperation painted across his face, eyes pleading for understanding — if not forgiveness. Horizon's heart sank. He'd suspected something was wrong with those injections, but never imagined Linji would go as far as to inject undead essence into Vodgo. And now Vodgo was paying the ultimate price.

 

Rysamora followed Linji's gaze and fixed Horizon with a glare that could cut steel. "You! This is all because of you!" she snarled, her voice filled with bitterness. "The Nix'udjar wouldn't have come if you untainted hadn't shown up!"

 

Horizon took a step back, confusion clouding his mind. "Tainted?" The accusation hung in the air, heavy and damning. Everything suddenly became clear now. "Is this why you abandoned us before?"

 

Rysamora's expression twisted with disgust, and she spat on the ground. "Taint leaves no obvious signs. It's undetectable unless I use my skill, [Detect]. But once it's on you, it stays — until Nixis is slain. And while you carry it, you're vulnerable to his magic in subtle, insidious ways."

 

Horizon blinked, disbelief gripping him. Taint? Was that why Nixis had been able to control him earlier, when he raised the undead? But when had it happened? When was he tainted? He searched his memory, but couldn't recall any connection to Nixis other than through his minions. Yet the signs were there — the puppet strings he hadn't even noticed.

 

The pieces were falling into place, but they brought no relief — only the sinking realization that Nixis might have marked him from the beginning.

 

[CONGRATULATIONS! Special Mission: Investigate Rysamora and Linji is COMPLETED!]

 

[Rewards!

❶ Gold Chest x1

❷ Silver Chests x1

❸ 100 AP

❹ 1000 gil ]

 

"Stop it, Rysamora!" Von shouted, stepping forward to stand beside Horizon. "He's only been here a few days, and all he's done is save this tribe from the start!"

 

Rysamora glared at him, but before she could reply, a horrifying sound filled the room. The wounded screamed as the corpses scattered across the floor began to twitch, their bodies jerking unnaturally.

 

Horizon's gaze snapped to Vodgo. He convulsed violently, his eyes rolling back as he spat thick, black blood. The air seemed to thicken with a malignant energy, and before anyone could react, the ship lurched violently beneath their feet.

 

Something was happening outside.

 

With a deafening crash, the Warsled smashed through a mound of bones, hurtling down a steep hill. Horizon caught a glimpse of a grim landscape — an endless valley strewn with the remains of ancient dragons, their kin, and fallen Valernian soldiers. It was a graveyard of legends, a battlefield frozen in death.

 

At the center of it all, a colossal mausoleum loomed, its towering silhouette casting a shadow over the entire valley. Above its entrance, a massive rune glowed ominously — the same rune that had been branded on the Nix dragons and dragonkin. The mark of Nixis.

 

But there was no time to dwell. The ship slammed into another mound of bones, this one concealing jagged rocks beneath. The impact sent the vessel skyward, launching Horizon and the others into the air. Time seemed to slow as they were flung from the ship, their bodies helpless against the momentum.

 

The Warsled flipped, crashing to the ground with a horrific screech of metal and wood. It tumbled end over end, scattering bones and debris in every direction before grinding to a final, agonizing stop.

 

Everything went black.

 

 

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