Chapter 82: Sins Nailed to the Wall

As Aron's right foot crossed the village threshold, an icy sensation crept down his spine, akin to a gentle midsummer breeze.

"!!!" Raum, who was asleep the entire time, suddenly woke up in a panic, hopping on Aron's shoulder and bringing his head under his chin.

"Aron, I don't like this place," Raum shivered visibly, his gaze fixed on something above them.

A dense black cloud engulfed the village. The cloud's size was exactly that of the village, nothing was passing the wooden walls.

Of course, this black cloud is the manifestation of accumulated negative emotions in the area, visible only to Raum.

Freya and Pethra felt a subtle discomfort entering this place, but nothing seemed off to them, and they waved it off as a reaction to the shitty appearance of the village.

Aron surveyed his surroundings, ready to summon Python at a moment's notice. This was the first time he saw Raum acting this way; the little raven was trembling uncontrollably as if he'd just returned from diving into a frozen lake. This unusual behavior puts Aron on high alert.

"This way sir" The guard walked first leading the group across the village.

Aron was behind him, his eyes were dancing everywhere, looking for any signs, he observed the guard from top to bottom—the way he walked, talked, how he moved his hands, Aron even paid close attention to his fingers and breathing rhythm.

Aron's muscles tensed, a silent promise echoing within him. If he sensed even a hint of danger, he was prepared to strike down the guard on the spot, revealing to the village that hell on earth is indeed a tangible reality. Fortunately, nothing happened as the group walked the muddy roads of the village.

All the buildings in the village were made from wood, with the houses taking the form of a small cabin, enough for a family of four max. The only building that stood out was a two-story house that the guard was leading the group towards.

Near the building to the right was a man in his early thirties, with black eyes, and messy brown hair, his skin was a little dark from working under the sun for many years, the man was in full leather armor with a bow in hand.

Next to him was a floating woodcutting axe, the axe was moving by itself cutting firewood, and a pile of wood nearby, when the axe cut a piece of wood, another piece came flying from the pile of wood onto the chopping block.

The man stopped his fiddling with the bowstring and glanced at the approaching group, he stood up and waved his hand, making the woodcutting axe fall to the ground.

"Good evening, Rowan," the guard offered a slight bow, then he turned to Aron and the girls, "These mercenaries here want to meet with the elder for the goblin quest."

Rowan's expression changed into somewhat a mixture of sadness and irritation, "Sigh when is he going to stop giving that quest, it's been three years," he massaged his temple and ordered the guard to retire to his duties.

The guard quickly left, Rowan scanned the group in front of him, a tall and intimidating man with a raven on his shoulder, and behind him two beautiful women.

His gaze lingered on Freya and Pethra for a while, mainly Freya since she wore less clothes, suddenly his vision was blocked by the man in their group.

Sensing a bloodthirsty gaze coming from Aron, Rowan immediately understood the warning. "Cough…Aaaa…My Brother is probably sleeping right now he's very sick, Sooo…" he paused trying to see if the group understood his message.

"..."

The situation was awkward for some reason, and when Rowan saw no reaction from Aron or the girls behind him, he turned around to the house, "I'll go see if he's awake wait he—"

He was interrupted by the door suddenly opening and from the inside came an old man.

Leaning on a wooden cane, the old man scrutinized the people in front of his house, his hair was white and mostly gone, curved back, sick black eyes, and unhealthy thinness.

"Welcome to Oakridge mercenaries, Am Darion Oakridge the Elder of Oakri—...Cough," Darion's words were cut off by heavy coughing, he covered his mouth with his sleeves.

Aron observed the elder closely, sensing something off about his appearance. The coughs were unsettling; he could even see small drops of blood falling on the floor, and the way Darion struggled to maintain composure didn't escape Aron's notice.

"I apologize," the elder said, wiping the blood off his lips.

"Brother you need to rest," Rowan tried to help his brother by offering his arm as a support. However, Darion slapped his hand with the cane.

"I'll rest when I see the end of those green… little…shit bastards," he slapped the cane against the floor with each word, Rowan stepped back letting his brother take a deep breath calming his nerves.

"Rowan, take our friends here to their room," Darion then glanced at the sky for a moment and at Aron, "Night is upon us, rest now and tomorrow we'll speak," then he went back inside, shutting the door behind him.

Rowan, looking apologetic, gestured for Aron and the others to follow him.

"Your brother is very sick," Aron commented.

"Yeah, we don't know what's wrong with him, his health suddenly started declining, would you believe me if I said three years ago he was almost the same size as you are," Rowan said, leading the way.

"What happened?" Pethra suddenly asked, she and Freya couldn't possibly imagine that the sick-looking Elder was the size of Aron in the past…I mean, his height now was barely reaching Aron's midsection.

Aron had an idea about the cause of this drastic change thanks to Cila.

"The loss of a loved one," that's all Rowan said, as he opened a door on the left side of the house. He led the group into a nice cozy room, with two beds, a round table, and a fireplace to the side.

"You can sleep here for tonight, we keep this room empty for travelers and mercenaries like you."

Aron–now holding Raum in his arm— walked inside first, seeing nothing out of the ordinary; he signaled Freya and Pethra to come in.

"We will have dinner prepared for you later; in the meantime, use the room as you see fit," he closed the door, leaving the group alone.

"Yey! A bed," Pethra immediately dashed, jumping to one of the beds, and bouncing a couple of times before falling on her back.

Freya approached the other bed and placed her bag next to it; she sat on the edge, resting and taking a few glances at Aron. Due to their connection and her mark, Freya sensed his emotions and that Aron's alertness was heightened the moment they entered the village; she wanted to ask about it, but she understood now was not the right time.

Meanwhile, Aron walked all over the room from one side to the other, examining each and every part of it. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, he approached the window.

The view outside was of the forest with the wall of the village marking the borders—Apparently, the Elder's house was the last one on the northern side of the village.

"Did you sense something? Raum," Aron decided to ask the Raven, so far he saw nothing strange, apart from Darion's unhealthy shape and the sensation he felt when he entered the village.

Raum cocked his head, eyes narrowing in concentration. His feathers ruffled, struggling to convey what he saw or the fact that if it's a natural phenomenon, after all, this ability to see negativity was new to him.

But the size of the black cloud was massive, covering the entire village. From Raum's point of view, the cloud was blocking even the sun. He never saw anything like it, even in Larton outskirts where slaves live; the size and thickness of the negativity there is massively small compared to Oakridge.

'Maybe they are forced to work and live here.'

He shook his raven head and turned to Aron, "Kaah!... It's probably nothing, and I'm just overreacting… But Aron be careful …Okay Kaaah?"

Aron's expression softened a little, and he ran his fingers under Raum's beak. "I'll keep that in mind, Buddy, and if you see or feel anything no matter how small, tell me right away, Understood?"

"Of course, Kaaah!" He then proceeded to fly from Aron's shoulder, landing on the pillow of the bed Freya was using.

"What now, Boss?" Freya asked.

Aron faced his group, "We rest for tonight and tomorrow's first light we set out to wipe the Goblin's nest; we need to finish that as quickly as possible. I want to be home by the evening."

"That sounds like a plan," Freya nodded in agreement. She too wants to go back to the mansion; she feels at peace there.

Thirty minutes later, the door of the room suddenly opened up; a woman around her mid-thirty walked in carrying a clay pot. She approached the table where Aron was sitting and placed the pot.

Darion walked after the woman carrying three wooden plates and spoons; he gave them to the woman. The latter opened the clay pot cover, revealing a vegetable stew inside.

"Come food is ready," The elder warmly waved to the girls.

 The woman filled the three plates; she bowed slightly to the elder and walked out.

"I apologize for the simple food; life is tough around here, and this is the best that we can offer."

Aron nodded appreciatively, acknowledging the effort. "Thank you, Elder Darion. We appreciate your hospitality."

They gathered around the table, and the group began to eat the simple but hearty stew. The flavors were basic, yet comforting, and the warmth of the meal eased the tension that lingered in the air.

As they ate, Aron observed Darion closely and decided to ask him about the quest. "Elder Darion, can you tell me about the goblin nest?"

Darion didn't reply immediately; instead, he walked to the chair close to the fireplace. He sat down with difficulty, using his cane as support.

"To the north from here, there are a series of caves. The caves are connected and hard to navigate. Goblins made their nest in these caves a long time ago." He paused, coughing a few times.

"No matter how many we killed or how many times we cleaned the caves, we couldn't destroy them completely, and they just keep coming back."

Aron and the girls listened carefully, each one was thinking of the best way to clean the nest. Meanwhile, Aron's hands were busy placing food from the pot on his plate for Raum to eat.

The elder's cane crashed against the floor, the echo reverberating in the room. His eyes, filled with a mixture of determination and desperation, locked onto Aron and the girls. "Young mercenaries, I ask you to slay every single one of those green monsters and burn down their nest, can you do that?" His voice carried the weight of years of struggle.

Aron gazed at him in the eyes and displayed a sadistic smile, "My flame will consume them all."

Darion too flashed a wide smile of the same nature hearing Aron's words. "That's all I want to hear," then he stood up and walked to the door. "Good night."

A while later, the woman came back, taking the pot and the plates after the group finished eating.

They approached the beds, and suddenly, Pethra turned to Aron and Freya, asking a very serious question.

"Aron, Freya, we have a problem." She raised with one hand three fingers and with the other two. "Three people, two beds."

"Kaaah? You didn't count me, Friend number 2."

Pethra glanced at Raum, "You don't need a bed, chicken."

"Hmmm…" Freya held her chin thinking, "I have a solution, me and Aron take one bed, you and Raum take the other, see? easy."

Pethra growled, not liking the idea; she wanted it to be in reverse. However, Aron's next words shared their dream

"All of you go and have some sleep; I'll stay for the night watch."

""Why?"" Pethra and Freya exclaimed.

Raum, on the other hand, poked Aron's cheek. "You too need to rest, Brother."

Aron shook his head, "There will be no rest for me until we go back home; now don't worry about me. I can stay awake for days if I want to."

'Now that I think about it, when was the last time I slept?' Aron wondered as he walked between the two beds. He sat down, leaning against the wall.

Raum, Pethra, and Freya let out a sigh; by now, they knew that if Aron decided something, nothing was going to change his mind, so they accepted it and went to sleep.

…

Thump. Step. Step. Thump. Step.

In the middle of the night, the sound of footsteps could be heard followed by something hard hitting the wooden floor.

In the dark, Elder Darion was walking the long corridor of his house; he was holding a lantern on his left illuminating the way.

He walked past numerous doors until he reached the end of the corridor; Darion approached the last door on his right, taking out a big iron key, he proceeded to unlock the door.

Inside was so dark that even with the light of the lantern, nothing could be seen. Darion placed his foot into the darkness, revealing a staircase leading down. Locking the door behind him, he headed down.

Finishing his descent, Darion placed the lantern on the floor after snuffing out the light for some reason; then relying on his senses, he took exactly ten steps forward and stopped.

Sniff. Sniff.

Something in the darkness approached him and began sniffing; the 'Thing' circled Darion a few times. After a few seconds of standing, Darion took more steps forward.

He pulled out yet another iron key, relying on his senses; he unlocked the door in front of him and walked inside, closing it behind him.

"Ignite," Darion spoke; instantly, flames formed in his palm, aiming it to the right and slightly down, he unleashed the fireball.

The fireball collided with a strange substance, a flammable powder of some kind because in the next moments, violet flames spread rapidly in a straight line then to the left and then down, illuminating the room, revealing one of the most terrifying scenes that anyone could possibly imagine.

Heads.

Twisted horrifying heads nailed on the wall, more specifically, Goblin heads nailed on the right wall in an organized manner to allow for more—16 to be exact.

However, that's not the terrifying thing about it; a goblin head on a wall was not the worst thing that most people in the world could see.

No, the terrifying thing is that the heads were ALIVE.

Yes, alive, and the only thing that shows that they are alive is the blinking of the eyes and the slight twitching of the mouth.

Blood was dripping from their necks, running down the wall; all the blood was being directed and collected into a giant pot.

Elder Darion, unmoved by such a sight, approached the far end of the room; he stooped close to a bed that was covered with black curtains.

He fell to his knees, mumbling some strange words, and then suddenly a low cry came from under the curtains.

"Shhh… No need to cry we're almost done," Darion gently ran his hand over the curtains. Then he shifted his gaze to the left wall.

"Just one more and I will have you back…."

Human heads, a living moaning human head nailed in the same way as the goblins.

"…My son."