The Farm

"We're here!" Rust said, and the group stopped moving.

Manco could make out a small, barely discernible trail branching away from the main road.

"Bolt, come with me! The rest of you wait here." Rust said, then he and Bolt followed the small trail to scout ahead.

Lug sat down on the ground, leaning on a tree stump and began getting lost in his own world. Manco sat with his back to a tree and listened to his surroundings.

"Hey, you got a moment?" Trix asked him.

"Sure," he shrugged, "not much to do here."

She sat down next to him, her knee lightly brushed against his. She smelled of sweat, with a lingering scent of cheap perfume.

"It seems you're doing well in the last few days," she commented.

"I'm doing alright," he answered indifferently.

"Where are you heading next? After you're done here?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe to another village. Maybe back to flatlands. Why?" he asked.

Trix was silent for a moment, and he turned and looked at her. In the flickering torchlight, her expressions were obscured and unreadable.

Eventually, she bit her lips and asked: "Can I go with you?"

"What about Rust?"

"He's… getting tenser by the day. I think the stress is getting to him," she said, leaning on him as if seeking comfort, "I'm feeling… unsafe near him, to be honest!"

Manco suddenly had an urge to put his hand around her throat and squeeze. This bitch! She was willing to betray her lover in a heartbeat!

He caught himself clenching his fists so hard they hurt. He shook his head. It was quite unlike him to get so worked up by an NPC!

It was not her fault she acted this way. She was simply designed to. His strong reaction was probably due to his recent real-life experience.

He looked at her again and saw that her pleasing features were strained by worry and stress. She was desperate.

Trix's class was "Faith Healer," one of the most useless class, even by NPC standards. She was garbage at combat, and could not heal in any meaningful capacity.

She was doomed from the start to be a useless existence, to throw herself at any man who could offer her any measure of safety, then to be cast away when they got sick of her. In this case, she decided to jump ship first.

"We'll see," it was all Manco could say.

With a disappointed sigh, Trix nodded, stood up and sat at another spot.

Rust and Bolt came back from scouting. After another half an hour of waiting, Manco heard the sound of hooves clacking. Then he saw a faint light at a distance. As the light got closer, he realized it was a horse-drawn cart.

Gesturing them to stay still, Rust held up his torch and waved it in a specific pattern. The cart stopped moving. A few moments later, a torch was lit and waved back, allowing them to approach.

As the cart approached, Manco noticed it was quite solid as if built to carry abnormally heavy cargo. Two men, one short and squat, the other tall and lanky, sat in front, controlling the muscular horses. Two other men, who are as big as Lug, jumped down from behind the cart. All four were armed with either swords, knives or axes, one of the big guys had a large bow strung over his back. They all have hardy faces of men who are no stranger to the rugged life.

Rust stepped closer and exchanged a few sentences with the thin man, who then gestured the two muscle heads to join the group. Together, they moved away from the main road and followed a small trail Rust scouted earlier.

While navigating the uneven ground and brushing low-hanging branches out of the way, Manco inspected the two new party members. They were Van and Dan, and both are of the "Footsoldier" class.

With two more torches lit, the group of seven made their way through the dense forest. The air was filled by the constant chirping of crickets and cicadas. The bushes around them ruffled as small animals ran past. Occasionally, an owl let out a screech, or several wolves howled in turn, breaking the monotony and startling several members of the group, especially Bolt and Dan.

After nearly an hour of walking, the animal noises grew noticeably sparser. The air grew colder, and the forest's natural cocktail smells of soft earth, wood, leaves, and animal droppings gradually became drowned out by another smell.

The scent of death and decay.

They approached a sizable clearing, on which stood a small temple and a graveyard. There were no less than fifty graves arranged in neat rows of seven or eight. Each grave was marked by a different kind of markers. Some had decent-looking gravestones with still readable carvings. Others only had a piece of rotten, moss-covered wood marking the resting place of the deceased.

They passed by the graves and headed toward the temple. Rust retrieved a key and opened the heavy padlock on the temple's door. With a loud squeak, the doors swung open.

A warm and damp wave of air rushed out from inside the temple and washed over their faces, carrying a nauseating pungent smell. Several of them gagged, and some others retched.

"I still can't get used to this!" Bolt commented as he wiped his mouth.

"Smells funny," Lug said, unfazed. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Don't breath in too much, you idiot! Your brain will rot!" Bolt scolded him.

"Heh! As if there's anything left in there to rot," Trix interjected sarcastically.

Before Bolt could react, Rust held up a hand.

"Enough! Let's get this over with!"

The group headed inside the temple and Rust closed the door.

The temple had been completely cleaned out a long time ago. Only pieces of broken planks or rotted fabric littered the floor.

They walked to a far corner and entered the priest's quarter. In a corner was a well-disguised trapdoor. Rust opened the trapdoor, revealing a stone staircase leading downstairs and unleashing another wave of pungent smell. Bracing themselves, the group headed down.

In his old life, Mahn Li had been here dozens of times, looking for the gun. He knew the layouts of the place like the back of his hand.

This spacious subterranean area had four rooms connected by small tunnels and pathways. The place can be randomized a little, with the room placements switched around, and one or two extra rooms added in, but the general layout was similar.

It was the stage for no less than half a dozen quests. In this particular quest, the place is set as the farm for a special type of fungus known as 'Ophiocordyceps,' a highly sought-after ingredient for a wide variety of powerful and destructive alchemical concoctions. Because of its potential use, it was outlawed by most kingdoms and was only sold on the black market by shady individuals. The warm, pungent air that assaulted them was created by the fungus as it matured.

The room they were currently in was the storage room. Most of it was occupied by wooden crates. The crates nearest to them contained countless empty grain bags used for storing the harvest. Rust gestured Dan, Van, and Lug, who grabbed the grain bags and divided it among themselves.

Exiting the room, they entered the main hallway.

The compound's layout was quite straightforward. Four rooms were distributed along a 30m long hallway. On one end of the hallway was the storage room, which they just exited. On the other end was the indoor farm.

Outside the storage room, on the left side was a path leading to the living quarters. On the right side, another path led to the plant-nursing room.

The group turned left to the living quarters.

Normally, there would be three or four people growing and tending to the fungus and this room was where they lived most of the time. It had a small larder, a fire pit with a crockpot on it, and four beds made of bundles of straw.

At this moment, three beds were occupied...

... by three dead bodies.

"What the hell?" Rust said through gritted teeth after the shock wore off. He carefully made his way to each of the bed and examined the bodies.

Manco followed suit. Each of them had a gaping wound at their neck. There was no sign of a struggle, which suggested they were killed in their sleep. A large pool of dried blood drenched the bed, mixed with bodily waste. Coupled with the smell of the bodies, which were in the early stages of decomposition, the smell was overwhelmingly horrid, even overpowering the smell of the fungus.

"Who did this?" Trix asked, covering her nose.

"My best guess is the fourth guy," Manco answered dryly.

At that moment, something moved at his peripheral vision. He turned and saw one of the bodies twitching.

"Everyone, stay back! Away from the bodies!" He warned the group.

Alarmed by his voice, they moved back several steps, eyes trained on the corpses.

It was then that the other two dead bodies began moving as well. Starting from an arm or foot, the movements spread to the whole body. What began as a twitch became a jerk, then the whole bodies violently convulsed like they were having a seizure.

Then they rolled from the bed onto the floor and began flopping around like fish out of water.

With a series of snaps and cracks, the corpses' heads, arms, and legs began turning and contorting at inhuman angles.

"What the hell's happening?" Someone asked in alarm, the question hung in the air unanswered.