Two men crawled in the plain near Sprigfield, sneakily observing it from a distance. 

As countless soldiers patrolled the area, the Town had been turned into a deathtrap. Under the current threat, everyone had banded together. 

- Militia 

- Associations 

- Adventurers and Braves 

- Heck, even some random NPC participated! 

All of them only had one goal: to find and destroy the ghouls hiding in their midst. Talk about a shitshow!

With Jack's current mark, he couldn't risk even going home to the Pumpkin Farm, knowing he would only bring death to it.

The problem was how to enter? The only entrance gate was so closely watched that even he wasn't sure how to bypass it. 

- Disguise? They had a magic tool to remove illusions. 

- Hide in a crate? Getting spotted would mean he'd be surrounded. 

- Pierce the town wall? The enchantment was too strong for the current him. 

- Make a diversion and rush through? This one had so many ways it could backfire. 

A diversion would have to be huge to be effective, something like a wildfire or another Macabre army, but the Farm could suffer in both cases. 

"Master, I don't think we're getting inside Sprigfield today." Derek sighed as he watched how attentive the guards were. 

"We'd just need a diversion big enough to occupy them, but for it to be non-threatening. This way, they won't enter high alert." Jack mused to himself. 

Actually, what if…? 

Jack carefully retreated, guiding their party toward the lake without explaining anything. No one was even watching it considering the constant mist made it pointless. 

As soon as they reached it, he decisively started…skipping pebbles?! The tiny projectiles rebounded on the water surface until they finally fell in. 

— Skip! Skip! Skip! Plop! — 

Derek kept looking for a deeper meaning, but he really was skipping pebbles no matter how he looked. 

"….Master?"

"Shh, let me handle this." Somehow he made such an everyday activity look mystical. 

— Skip! Skip! Skip! Plop! — 

Minutes passed, yet this seemingly didn't go anywhere. Was Jack just thinking? Was he giving up? Did he intend to wait for the paladins here? Did he— 

That's when it happened. The calm lake's surface suddenly exploded, an old man with white hair coming out?! 

"Are you done knocking?!! I'll rip you apart and—" The elemental finally noticed who it was. 

"Sup." Jack happily waved. 

It was at that moment that the elemental realized he had fucked up. Had he known it was this annoying human, he would have acted like he wasn't home. 

"Never mind, have fun throwing pebbles!" The elemental was already retreating. 

"If you leave now, I swear I'll turn your lake to jelly." This was perhaps the most ridiculous and nonsensical threat ever…but it worked. 

"Sigh, fine. What do you need?" The old man relented. He'd at least listen to him. 

The more Jack spoke and the less reluctant he became. After all, the human did have a secret weapon: Pumpkin Girl's Cooking!

Soon, a deal was made that would affect Sprigfield more than anyone could have ever guessed… 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

So much effort had been spent hunting the undead, yet not a single one had been found. They had obviously fled after their brethren had screamed his lungs out. 

It was hard to know whether this was good or not. It meant they were too weak to fight Sprigfield but also way too sneaky. 

In any case, many players were starting to feel the wait: 

"Tch— I joined this mission thinking we'd be crushing undead left and right. Remember the rat event? Now, that was epic!" 

"Epic? Weren't you hiding behind the protective barrier back then? What's epic about that?" 

"Whatever. Want to do something else? How about we search for a Field Boss? Factions pay a lot for that info." 

"We better stay. Who knows when shit will go down. Plus, remember that the Mayor's actually paying for us to help." 

Thus, even though many were bored, they all remained steady at their post. But that was about to change. 

— Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop! — 

Out of nowhere, it started raining.

The rain was the most normal it could have been. It wasn't especially charged with magic, it wasn't dark nor ominous, and it wasn't acidic or anything like that. It was just rain. 

Rain was so insignificant that it didn't raise an eyebrow. Of course, people grumbled and grimaced, but that was the end of it— or it should have been. 

It rained harder and relentlessly as minutes elapsed, creating countless puddles everywhere. Before long, the entire ground was covered in only water. 

"Are you kidding me?! What kind of bad luck is this?!" 

"At this rate, we'll all look like drenched dogs soon enough." 

"Already too late for me. I'm wetter than my wife after seeing her favorite actor!" 

The discontent from being bored quickly added to the discomfort of the weather. They couldn't get angry either. What would they do, shout at the sky? 

Some players quickly put two and two together. It had to be the doing of that one Elemental they had previously seen! Sprigfield's only mage debunked the theory. 

He came out of his dwelling at some point, gave an unimpressed glance at the sky, and went back in as if nothing had ever happened. 

That's when came the finishing blow. Out of nowhere, the Drunken Sailor decided to do a promotion. Everything, absolutely everything was 50% off, even the bunny idol's autograph! 

The promise of food, drinks, shelter, and entertainment was a godsend in this shitty weather. It was more tempting than the most beautiful vixen or the shiniest treasure. 

"Fuck it. I'm out of here. Screw this guard mission." They all gave up one after the other, many cursing, feeling their boots full of water. 

This didn't just affect the players but also the NPCs. Most were fickle and just going with the flow. It just so happened that the flow outside was catastrophic! 

The Militia ran around trying to urge people to reconsider, that one naive militia member the first, only to be shut down. "We need to protect the town!" From what? The rain? People would just snigger at him. 

Even the associations slowly gave up, heading to protect their various installations from taking water damage. This was especially true for FF: 

- The rain made some aquatic monsters easier to catch (Fishermen) 

- It threatened to drown the fields that were barely recovering. (Farmers)

Luckily for Jack, the Pumpkin Farm feared no water. The tree defense line would block the water, and even their field resisted it thanks to the elemental's blessing. 

Had there been any concrete danger, everyone would have banded together to fight, ready to give their lives to protect their families. 

Derek watched it all happen with bulging eyes. That was it?! It was so simple and yet so damn effective! A single move had cleared pretty much all the issues. 

As for Jack infiltrating the Town —> He simply swam. 

There was enough water to conceal a body from sight easily. Derek acted as a distraction while he sneakily invaded. Once inside, a large cloak sufficed to hide his monstrous features. 

That's how a ghoul showed up at a fine silk shop, ready to meet Old Snake of the Bloody Chains. Their conversation was short, their deal even shorter. 

Before long, Jack exited the place with a Blood-Red Chain, one that seemed alive as it kept trying to bite him. 

< Blood Marking Chain 🩸> 

This thing was akin to fighting poison with poison. It worked very similarly to the Holy Mark he currently was afflicted with.

Chased by Paladins —> Chased by Slavers. 

It did, however, have one redeeming feature. Activating it on a target would remove any other mark from the user. 

"M-master, are you really going to use it?!" Derek shivered as he asked. 

"Use it? Hopefully not, but it beats getting captured by the Holy Church." Jack remarked as he headed to the Tavern, a man already waiting for him. 

The scammer looked quite comical as he showed up for their meeting completely drenched. Sadly his news was akin to the weather, bad. 

"Sir, I haven't found the ghouls you were looking for, but I've heard something quite alarming. They're making a bloodline resonance tool. It's—"

"Fuck!" Jack appeared solemn. This thing would sniff him out even faster than that freaking holy mark! "How long have they been working on it? Hopefully—"

— Clang! — 

The door to the back room was suddenly slammed open, the tavern owner appearing. He was a bearer of bad news, his face twisted in worry. 

"Sir, we have a problem! Patrons saw the Militia heading this way, and they seemed out for blood! I'm not sure how reliable this is but…." He warned. 

Why would the militia target a tavern? Were they coming here to lecture people, or did they know a ghoul was here? Either way, he couldn't risk it. 

Captured by the Militia —> Handed to the Holy Church —> Real Bad time 

"Just comply with whatever demands they have. We have nothing to hide. Take care." Jack hurriedly left, faster than if he had seen a leper. 

"Master?" 

"We get the F-out right now! Now listen carefully. I'll need you to…." Jack instructed quickly. The more Derek listened and the more uneasy he became. 

This sounded a lot like his master's last will. He wouldn't tell him where he was going either, only that it would be far too dangerous for anyone to follow. He'd be fine, right?!

They may not have known each other for long, but he had thought him so much. He had made him question his sword, moral compass, and even life. 

He watched the Demon King disappear, heart heavy. A second later, the clanging and shouting of the Militia resounded: they were right on his trail. 

They would meet again, right? He had faith…..

Perhaps Jack would have laughed had he known. Faith? He'd need more than faith to survive where he was going, he'd need a miracle. After all, Dark Elves were no pushover…

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