Ed-Bear’s terrifying eyes remained wide open. His own malice condensed above his head into a massive, pitch-black entity of pure darkness.
This malevolent guardian possessed a body of undulating folds, with bloated, shadowy tentacles extending along its lateral lines—infinite and boundless, appearing both like a worm and a dragon. Its deep, cavernous head emitted an eerie red light and a low humming sound that even seemed to compress the candle’s radiance.
In countless invisible clashes, shredded meat and severed limbs piled up in the distance. Internal organs were heaped together, and broken bones were driven into the mud. Viscous plasma writhed with horrifying tendrils, seemingly trying to reassemble itself in a desperate, failed struggle.
The rain washed away the tainted blood, which snaked its way into the river. Soon, a swarm of pale, ghostly creatures began swimming rapidly through the water…
Several hours later, the little girl developed a high fever. Her eyes were dull, her lips were parched and cracked, and she mumbled nonsense in her delirium.
What should I do?
A sense of powerlessness welled up in Ed-Bear’s heart.
Fortunately, the rain stopped, and they could set out again.
He boarded the raft and pushed off with the long oar. As the raft entered the rapids, their speed increased dramatically.
Thick clouds continued to churn, and lightning tore across the sky. In the sudden bursts of white light, the riverbanks remained pitch-black silhouettes—jagged, gnarled, and recoiling like massive, writhing monsters.
Sandbars dragged their long bodies through the center of the river. White foam broke against their peaks, making them look like giant whales charging head-on.
The raft darted left and right through the treacherous currents, dodging water-worn rocks that appeared suddenly in their path. The wood let out labored creaks under the strain.
Ed-Bear feared the raft would fly apart, which would only make things worse for the sick girl. Though he was an atheist, he found himself praying to the unknown gods for protection.
This river, like most in the Evernight Realm, was winding and treacherous. There were almost no straight stretches; it was filled with hidden reefs and rocks protruding from the surface.
For a normal person to drift through this darkness was a suicide mission. Even with light, it was nearly impossible to avoid the submerged rocks that would send a raft or a skiff to the bottom.
However, Ed-Bear possessed low-light vision. Using the reflections off the water, he could easily see things hundreds of meters away and react in advance. Furthermore, he possessed a biological sonar; by vibrating his tympanic membranes to emit specific sound frequencies, he could detect obstacles even further away. This allowed him to navigate the river as easily as a fish in water.
But none of this helped the little girl’s fever.
After drifting for some time, Ed-Bear suddenly spotted a light shining from a craggy cliff in the distance.
In the dark night, just after the storm, a single spark of light was undoubtedly a symbol of hope.
While still two hundred meters away, he could see the shape of the building—a long wooden house. The windows were lit, and shadows seemed to move within.
Seeing a standalone building in the Crimson zone was an incredible sight. Moreover, it didn’t look like an explorer’s outpost or a military camp; it had no defensive measures whatsoever. Perhaps it was a hermit’s residence, or perhaps something else entirely.
The raft came to a stop on a mudflat. Ed-Bear dragged it out of the water and wedged the oar into a rocky crevice to prevent the raft from being swept away.
He picked up Helen and ran up a long, sloping path toward the wooden house, his footprints deep in the soil.
He didn’t rush inside. Standing by the window, he peered through the spotless glass and saw an ordinary-looking elder. The figure wore an ochre sweater with a knitted collar, and their trousers and shoes were loose-fitting.
Their skin was wrinkled like chicken skin, so ancient that it was impossible to tell if they were male or female.
“Pardon the intrusion.”
Ed-Bear decided to enter.
Though the other party looked eerie—especially the way their skin was swollen and wrinkled as if something were wriggling beneath it—Ed-Bear was far from normal himself. He was quite an expert when it came to wriggling things.
The elder pushed off the armrests of a chair and stood up, trembling as they walked to the door. With a creak, the door opened, and warm light spilled out along with the tinkling melody of a music box.
The entrance led to a dining and living area, with a small door leading to a bedroom adjacent to the living room.
Without a word, the elder added a few pieces of fatwood to the hearth and began to boil water, appearing very hospitable.
Seeing the figure’s back exposed so defenselessly, Ed-Bear’s eyes flashed with a terrifying light, his mind racing.
He took a deep breath, drawing air through his nasal passages filled with olfactory cells and his six air-sac lungs. He discovered that the figure smelled of nothing but dust. There wasn’t even the faint scent of rot.
Ed-Bear grew increasingly alert. It wasn’t hard to see that the old person wasn’t alive, but judging by the scent, even the rot had long since vanished. They had been dead for a very long time.
If that were the case, what power was keeping this wight moving?
