Chapter 306 307: Old Haunt
Damon didn't even dare breathe. Neither did he look at the creature in front of them. He shut his mouth and pinched his nose closed, his other hand gently doing the same for Leona.
He could feel her trembling, even though she remained completely still. The others had frozen too—motionless, not even a twitch. Each one of them kept a hand over their mouth and nose, holding in their breath.
The creature made no sound. Its maw hung open, revealing a long, grotesque tongue that slid out—slowly reaching for Damon. It slithered across his face in a deliberate, testing motion. The thing had no eyes—completely blind to the world around it.
He felt the sticky drag of its tongue trail across his skin, thick with vile-smelling mucus that burned his senses.
Still, he didn't move.
His lungs tightened, screaming for release as the air within begged to be let out.
Even his shadow stood still—as though it were lifeless.
But he couldn't risk it. If they breathed... if they made even the faintest sound, the creature would drag them into the suffocating silence of the marsh.
Damon's heart had gone cold. He prayed the telepathy potion hadn't worn off yet…
With his eyes tightly shut, he reached out with his mind— Matia…
For a moment, she didn't move. His heart sank. If the potion had worn off, she wouldn't know what to do.
But then… ice shimmered.
Matia's ascendant armor fractured with a quiet glimmer, and slow streams of cold air began to seep out around them—dropping their body heat signatures to match the marsh's frigid surroundings.
The creature lifted its head, confused. Its tongue curled back in. It sniffed, or whatever the blind thing used in place of scent.
It slithered forward, brushing its grotesque form against Evangeline, then slowly turned away… fading into the fog like it was never there at all.
Damon's hands shook as he slowly released Leona's mouth.
The others moved too, their faces pale with dread.
Damon let out a silent sigh of relief.
Leona looked at him and mouthed, "I'm sorry…"
He shook his head. It wasn't her fault. No one could be blamed—not here.
At least they survived.
He stood, reaching for a vial of the Beldam telepathy potion and took a quick sip before passing it to Leona. She drank and passed it around until the last of them had taken their share.
Their minds connected.
Be careful… we're almost across the Silent Marsh… This is the last stretch. If we get careless… we'll die.
No one responded through the link. They all just nodded in grim silence.
Damon exhaled again, finally soothing his burning lungs. The wretched smell of the slime on his face made him gag. He crouched low into the marsh, dipping his hands into the murky water.
He began to wash his face slowly, careful not to make a sound. The others watched in silence, too shaken to move.
Then his hand dipped into the water again—then froze.
His eyes widened in horror.
He hadn't seen them.
How… how could he have missed it?
Right next to him, just inches away, was a vast, motionless creature submerged in the water. Its reptilian eyes stared directly at him—unblinking. Its scales were the same color as the swamp, perfectly camouflaged. Its fangs were as large as his hands.
It didn't move. It didn't need to.
It was watching.
He paled and began to slowly back away, heart pounding in his ears. Its eyes still locked on him.
Daring the risk, he extended his shadow perception outward—despite knowing the danger.
And then he saw them.
His breath caught.
All around them—beneath the marsh's surface—the same type of creature waited in silence. Dozens… maybe more. Watching. Waiting. Ready to drag them into the mire.
They had been there the entire time.
Stalking them like prey.
Even they didn't dare to make noise in the marsh.
Damon backed away, gripping the Wyvern's Fang tightly in his trembling hands.
They had been this close to death… all this time.
He glanced at the patches of glowing moss dotting the swamp floor.
Those… those were the only things keeping them alive.
He took a deep breath… silent, he moved to the next bright patch of moss…
The others followed, leaving the area with silent dread, weapons brandished—ready to fight for their lives at any time.
They moved through the moss without any issues, the creatures hidden beneath staring at them… hoping… praying they'd fall into the murky water.
Damon made sure they didn't—combining different spells from each of them. The most useful were Sylvia and Evangeline's use of light and foresight. Next came Matia's ability to freeze water and allow them to pass unharmed.
With the murky water frozen solid, they walked over it without issue.
They could already see the end of the slimy marsh in sight—soon… all their troubles would end.
But Damon knew better than to let his guard down. The closer one was to their goal, the more reckless they became.
Even so, he could feel his party becoming elated with the thought of finally leaving this silent hell…
Damon bit his lips… the edge of the marsh was right there. The vast tree line ahead—hiding what would be Lysithara.
Yet he couldn't relax… not until he heard a voice that should never have been in the Silent Marsh.
"It's just like you to expect the worst in everything…"
Damon froze—his legs almost gave out when he heard that voice in front of him.
It was a voice he thought he would never hear again.
His lungs stalled, his legs trembled—almost giving out beneath him.
No…
That voice… it was impossible.
It couldn't be…
He shouldn't have.
After all… he had killed and devoured the man himself…
It was him.
Exactly as he remembered.
Every detail.
Right in front of his eyes stood a man holding an old hunting bow with a gentle smile on his face… he looked just like Damon remembered…
His eyes widened—betraying emotions he thought he had long since buried…
The name came to his mind… but his lips did not dare utter it.
This was one of the only people who had ever shown him kindness.
Carmen Vale…
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