"Careful! A monster's coming!"
Once he confirmed the newcomers weren't human, Gauss hurriedly warned the others, who were still absorbed in their "work."
Meva was the second to spot the monster. At Gauss's warning, she quickly fixed her gaze on it across the riverbank.
"Is it a ghoul? Or a demon ghost, stronger than an ordinary ghoul?"
As soon as she made out the target, her previously calm heart began pounding.
"What are you talking about? Didn't we kill all the water ghouls?" Doyle asked from nearby, still not understanding.
He followed their gaze, and the moment he saw what they were looking at, he sprang to his feet in fright, his face turning pale.
Unlike water ghouls, both ghouls and demon ghosts were enemies that only adventurers could handle.
Everyone immediately stopped collecting things, quickly grabbed their packs, and huddled together, their hearts filled with unease.
Although ghouls, like water ghouls, were fond of eating carrion, they were far stronger than the feeble water ghouls. In fact, to most low-level adventurers, they were terrifying opponents capable of wiping out an entire party.
Besides, its appearance was nothing like the limp, loose-limbed water ghouls. It looked more like a tall, well-built warrior who had undergone rigorous training.
"Don't panic. I don't think things are as bad as they seem," Meva said slowly after observing it for a moment.
First, it might be a lone ghoul. Second, it didn't look as though it was preparing to attack them; otherwise, it wouldn't have strolled over from the riverbank so openly.
Ghouls were monsters that only adventurers could fight, but they were a fairly well-equipped party of six. A lone ghoul might not necessarily be willing to attack them.
After all, all living things instinctively sought benefits and avoided harm.
Of course, most importantly, the nearly twenty rotting water-ghoul corpses on the ground were already more than enough food for it.
"Yes, it probably just wants to drive us away," Gauss said, finally catching on as well.
The strange discrepancy in the number of water ghouls they'd counted at the beginning suddenly made sense.
The missing water ghouls had likely fallen victim to this ghoul.
The group felt a little more at ease, but they stayed huddled together, keeping a wary eye on it.
"Don't turn and run. That might provoke it. Back away slowly—we can't outrun it," Leven said, drenched in cold sweat, but still remembering to warn them. "And be ready to fight at any moment."
The ghoul looked slow, but it wasn't. In just over a dozen steps, it reached the clearing.
"Go! Get away!"
The ghoul raised its head. Its blood-red eyes fixed on the group as its long tongue flicked about and it spoke in halting Common Tongue.
Its voice was low and hoarse, like an old dog growling.
Whether it was the ghoul's terrifying appearance or the oppressive aura of a predator, hearing it speak Common Tongue—however poorly—made Gauss feel mentally unwell, as though he'd been subjected to spiritual pollution.
Cold sweat kept forming on everyone's foreheads.
The pressure from the aura of a creature that seemed to belong to another level of life was immense!
"D-Do we fight?" Doyle asked, his hand trembling slightly around his sword as he glanced at his companions for their opinions.
"No. We're retreating." Without a moment's hesitation, Gauss and the others all reached the same decision.
Though Gauss had gained enhanced agility and learned a new spell, [Mage Armor], he wasn't so overconfident as to think of fighting the creature before him.
Of course, if they truly had to fight, he wouldn't be afraid. But they clearly weren't in a life-or-death situation yet.
Especially since the ghoul's aura was far from weak.
Even if they managed to win, the party would suffer heavy losses.
Retreat wasn't shameful. It was the sensible choice.
Doyle let out a sigh of relief, too.
The group left the water-ghoul corpses where they were and, facing the ghoul with weapons in hand, cautiously backed away.
Meva watched their rear, making sure there were no traps or enemies lying in ambush behind them.
But even after they'd retreated dozens of meters and the ghoul began tearing into the water-ghoul corpses, devouring them greedily, nothing of the sort happened.
Once they were far enough away, the group turned and hurried toward the village.
"Phew—"
The dim yellow glow of candles spilled through the windows and onto the street.
Only when they saw lights and passersby again, back in a human settlement, did the group finally let out a breath of relief.
Their chests heaved from running, and their hearts felt ready to leap out of them.
"We actually made it out alive!" Oliver wiped the sweat from his forehead, not at all ashamed of his joy at surviving the ordeal.
They were only a group of low-level adventurers who hadn't even set foot on the path of a profession. Escaping from a ghoul like that was something worth celebrating.
In fact, if they were shameless enough, this would make an excellent story to tell at the tavern, cheeks flushed and drinks flowing.
"What are you talking about? You're so pathetic." Doyle straightened up and said with feigned composure. "I wasn't scared at all. If you hadn't said we were retreating, I'd have already been ready to fight."
"If you stopped trembling, that might make your words even a tiny bit convincing," Meva said expressionlessly, shooting him a glance as she silently mocked him.
Gauss followed her gaze and saw that Doyle's hand really was shaking badly. He couldn't tell if it was because he was exhausted from running with his sword, or because he'd been terrified.
Either way, Doyle had been caught red-handed and had no way to defend himself. He just kept shaking out his hand and muttering, repeatedly insisting that he was tired from running, not scared.
"All right. Let's go to the tavern and tell Harvey what happened," Leven said. He, too, felt grateful to have escaped disaster, but quickly regained his composure.
The ghoul's appearance would have consequences.
They'd been lucky to escape, but the only reason it hadn't been eager to hunt them was that there'd already been food available. Without those water-ghoul corpses, they'd truly have been in a desperate situation.
Besides, their mission was over, so they could leave whenever they wanted. But what about the residents who lived here?
They had to explain the situation to the locals so they could decide whether to post a new ghoul contract with the Adventurer's Guild.
And although they'd killed the water ghouls and completed the mission, they hadn't had time to collect all the spoils.
The items in their packs that could prove they'd completed the mission were still a little short of the required amount. They'd have to explain that to Harvey, too.
Their contract wasn't quite complete yet.
They arrived at the village's only tavern.
One of the few places in the village where people could seek entertainment, the Mermaid Tavern was brightly lit and far livelier than it had been during the day.
A bearded merchant sailor drank deeply from a pottery bowl and sighed in satisfaction. Sailors, their faces flushed, shook dice cups and shouted out numbers; a drunken, middle-aged man with a hairy chest danced in the narrow hall with his shirt off.
The tavern was noisy and chaotic.
"Creak—"
The moment the door was kicked open—
Before the people outside even stepped in, a strong stench of fish and rot poured into the tavern.
A drunkard who'd been leaning woozily against the tavern's wooden door had already been startled by the noise of it opening. Now the reek hit him full in the face, and his flushed cheeks turned a deeper red in an instant!
"Which filthy beggar came in here? Get out!"
Smack!
A large hand clamped firmly around the drunkard's swinging arm.
Everyone looked toward the doorway.
Moonlight spilled through the open door, revealing a party of tall adventurers, their bodies covered in grime. Looking closely, one could see scraps of organs—intestines, clotted blood, scabs, and other indescribable bits—caught in the gaps of their armor. For a moment, the group looked to everyone like demons emerging from hell.
The tavern patrons, who had been making a racket, fell silent in fright, as though someone had them by the throat.
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