Meanwhile, in the village of Genward, which Desmond had visited during his journey to Helmfirth city, the nocturnal ambiance was cast in an otherworldly light beneath the glow of the silver moon. The atmosphere was unusually serene, as if life itself had been suspended, leaving only the paved roads devoid of any signs of activity.
Yet, had Desmond been present, he would have recognized a familiar mist shrouding the village's borders. As the sky gradually transformed into a haunting shade of red, an eerie scent reminiscent of blood permeated the air, emanating from every dwelling.
"Give me the next body, Owen," a commanding voice echoed throughout the formerly tranquil village. The voice belonged to a middle-aged man, his words reaching the ears of every inhabitant.