Rain threatened the sky that morning. The clouds rolled low and heavy, blanketing Bai Martial Academy in a somber gray. At the outer gate, Li Yuan Tian adjusted the straps of his pack, his eyes set on the open road ahead.
Around him stood four others—his assigned team for the mission to Jinshui Village.
Chen Lei, a broad-shouldered youth with calloused knuckles and a scar over his brow, hefted his iron club over his shoulder. "Tch. They send us out on our first real mission and it's some backwater ghost village? If something's really wrong, they should've sent real soldiers."
"Big talk," Fei Zhi murmured, barely glancing at him. The girl was slight, dark-eyed, and always calm. Her weapon of choice was twin short blades strapped along her thighs. She didn't speak much, but when she did, her tone cut like cold steel. "It's not the village that's the problem. It's what made the villagers vanish."
Beside her, Wang Tu, the group's self-proclaimed tactician, gave a nervous laugh. "Can we not talk like that? I'd like to believe we're just dealing with wild beasts or some bandit gang. Something human, at least. I'm not trained for… the other kind."
"Then don't fall behind," said the last of them, Shui Rong, a quiet but heavyset youth who carried a spear taller than himself. He had an oddly calm expression—almost sleepy—but Yuan Tian had seen him train. His strength was real.
Li Yuan Tian cleared his throat. "We have three days to reach Jinshui. We move through the eastern woods first, then the hills, and on the third day we enter the marsh road. Keep your weapons within reach. We don't know what we'll find."
"Understood," Fei Zhi replied.
Chen Lei cracked his knuckles. "Let's hope something does attack us. I need to stretch my arms."
Wang Tu groaned. "Can't wait to see you run when it does."
With that, they began their journey.
---
The first day was quiet.
The forest path wound through ancient trees and twisted roots. Birds scattered above, and occasionally, they spotted a beast watching from afar—wolves, a panther, even a shadowy boar—but none approached.
Fei Zhi moved like a ghost through the trees, scouting ahead. "Tracks. Old. Could be villagers fleeing. But too disorganized. No carts, just footsteps. Children, maybe."
Wang Tu squinted. "Children fleeing alone?"
"Or being chased," Chen Lei muttered, eyes narrowing.
They set camp near a small stream that evening. Shui Rong gathered wood, and Fei Zhi skinned a pair of rabbits she caught. Around the fire, the team sat in silence until Wang Tu finally broke it.
"So… what do you think happened?" he asked. "To Jinshui, I mean."
"Famine," Shui Rong said quietly. "I heard there's drought near the border. People flee when they're desperate."
"Bandits," Chen Lei said. "Or slavers. Maybe both."
Fei Zhi didn't speak, but her gaze lingered on the trees—sharp and unsettled.
Yuan Tian stared into the fire. "We'll find out soon."
---
The second day brought low hills and a rising wind. Clouds gathered heavy overhead, and the scent of coming rain clung to the air.
"Feels like a storm's stalking us," Wang Tu said, wrapping his cloak tighter.
They reached the top of the hill near dusk. The forest behind them now looked far away, and ahead, the first signs of the marshes peeked through the mist.
They camped early, lighting no fire.
That night, Fei Zhi returned from her watch looking grim. "Saw smoke. Not far. But it vanished. No scent. Just... gone."
"Ghost fire?" Wang Tu whispered.
Chen Lei rolled his eyes. "You're scared of campfire stories?"
Fei Zhi didn't respond—but she sharpened her blades before sleeping.
---
By the third day, fog crept along the ground.
The marsh road was thick with stagnant pools and half-sunken tree trunks. The trail turned to wet gravel, then to slick stone. Birds were gone. The only sound was their footsteps and the occasional ripple of water.
"Is it always this… dead?" Wang Tu asked.
"No," Shui Rong replied. "It wasn't like this last year."
As they rounded a bend, the silhouette of Jinshui Village emerged—half-swallowed by mist.
The village gates stood crooked, one hanging from broken hinges. Roofs sagged. Fences were smashed. No smoke rose from chimneys.
"Stop," Yuan Tian ordered. They halted at the edge of the road, staring.
No movement. No sound.
"Too quiet," Fei Zhi whispered. She nocked an arrow.
Chen Lei tightened his grip on his club. "I've got a bad feeling."
"Same," Wang Tu muttered. "This place feels… wrong."
Yuan Tian stepped forward, blade unsheathed. "Stay close. No splitting up. We check the homes first. If there's any sign of life, we find it."
As they passed the threshold into the ruined village, the air turned colder.
And behind them, something in the mist… moved.