The entire group stood at the forest’s edge. The twins were positioned at the forward flanks, and ahead with them was Scot, spear drawn. Beri, Sem, and I formed the center, with Drodul covering our rear. Everyone looked focused and serious. To me, the forest ahead didn’t seem particularly frightening—I’d spent several days there myself and encountered no danger. Is that because I’m undead… or was I just lucky?

  “We move steadily—not fast, but precisely. If danger arises, we try to resolve it peacefully. Scot—don’t rush,” Sem announced, and we stepped into the forest’s shadow.

  The squad quickly advanced deeper. I don’t know—or rather, I can’t understand how—but the twins, who had initially seemed lost, soon led us to a spot where everyone noticed the remains of a campfire. Burnt fragments of belongings and thick, undisturbed soot lay scattered. I realized this was the last trace of my former comrades and that bald leader of ours. Of course, I felt nothing—but examining the site was necessary. That’s exactly what the twins were doing now.

  “Almost no organic remains or body parts here. Just bones and ash,” Larry began her analysis.

  “Few belongings. Chaos,” Mikhail added.

  “You mean they didn’t burn villagers here—only reanimated undead? But you said ‘almost.’ So there’s something else?” Sem pieced together the information alongside them.

  “Yes. Possibly the necromancer.”

  “Killed and burned.”

  “But who? And how were they dealt with so quickly? We weren’t even sent until after the villagers went missing. That means someone knew in advance and tried to cover their tracks,” Sem scanned the area with even greater intensity. “Start searching for any clues. We need to understand who fought here—and how.”

  At the captain’s order, even Scot began carefully combing through the sparse bushes, looking for hints. He appeared concentrated and alert—but we received no findings from him. Drodul remained with us, occasionally glancing at Sem, clearly ready to charge into battle at a moment’s notice, no matter the foe.

  Half an hour later, we regrouped to share results. Mikhail spoke first:

  “There’s a trail. Hoofprints. Likely riders.”

  “They tried to hide it. Then cleaned up. Then tried again to make it look hidden.”

  “What? Why go through all that?” Scot immediately asked.

  “Possibly someone’s leading us along the trail. Friendly intent—but not certain,” Sem concluded.

  “But that means it’s a trap! So there’s a third party involved—or is this the fourth? Or what?” A barrage of questions poured from Scot’s mouth once more.

  “It doesn’t matter to us. Our goal was to uncover how the necromancer appeared—if he even existed—and eliminate him if possible. It’s not our place to decide who the villain is. Once we confirm a clear trail, we’ll withdraw and report everything to the Guild. Let them sort it out.”

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  “We should be careful, Captain. I don’t want to run into nobles,” Drodul spoke for the first time all day.

  “You’re right. If these are riders, they’re likely a private army. Here’s the plan: we follow the trail. The moment we determine its destination, we retreat straight back to the village. From there, we report upward and leave immediately. Any objections?”

  No one challenged Sem’s words, so we moved out at once. I had poor sense of direction, but from Scot’s remarks, I gathered we’d neared the count’s territory. The trail wound about for a while—then unmistakably led straight to a manor’s gates. Our squad remained deep in the forest, far enough that I couldn’t even see the estate’s fence.

  “Horse crap. That’s Count Brodet Beirl himself—yeah. Damn, even I know better than to poke around there,” Scot’s voice carried a hint of panic. “What do we do, Sem? This isn’t some baron—it’s a full-blown count. Way too risky to investigate further. He’ll just bury us and be done with it.”

  “I won’t argue—the situation’s bad. But that doesn’t stop us from sticking to the plan. We’ve found the trail, and the necromancer seems dead. We’ll report it and get back to our usual work: killing monsters and exploring dungeons.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but could you explain who this count is?” I broke into their preparations.

  “He’s a count. They’re senior landholders authorized by the king himself to maintain a private army. But this one’s especially dangerous. They say he’s got a couple of lunatics who can mow down a troll horde single-handedly,” Scot’s tone had calmed, though a trace of nervous laughter lingered. “Even I can handle a troll—one-on-one, if I know the fight’s coming. Get it? Yeah—and those psychos are far worse. That’s why we’re all quietly getting the hell out of here.”

  I’d heard tales of adventurers’ strength—and recently saw Scot in action myself—but his behavior made it clear we might be walking into truly dangerous opponents. Neither Sem nor Drodul commented on the boy’s words; they simply waited for me to be ready so we could retreat as a group.

  We retraced our steps and soon returned to the ashes. There, Sem gathered a few items and remains from the site and placed them into the bag on my back:

  “These small things might still prove useful. We head back to Quiet Village, then straight to the hamlet. There, we’ll rest and decide our next steps—and…”

  “Captain. Visitors,” Mikhail interrupted.

  “More numerous than us,” Larry added for her brother.

  “Defensive formation,” Sem ordered, stepping closer to Scot. The squad swiftly rearranged itself, weapons ready, awaiting what came next.

  Less than five minutes passed before another group emerged from behind the trees. They struck me as extremely dangerous—but I noticed no strong reaction from the adventurers around me. Beri’s and Drodul’s gazes remained calm and focused.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” said a tall man in a cloak and hat at the front of the group. “You’ve entered the baron’s territory without his knowledge. Therefore, you’ll be temporarily detained. Surrender your weapons and follow us.”

  “He’s offering a peaceful solution?” I couldn’t help but ask Beri.

  “No. He just wants us to surrender so they can slaughter us,” Drodul answered for the girl. “I know their commander in the coat. He loves these tactics. Besides, there’s no law forbidding crossing someone’s land. Maybe in other countries—but definitely not here.”

  I clutched the huge backpack tightly, hoping the adventurers would care enough about their gear to protect it—and, by extension, me.

  “Apparently, you’re either very stupid or deaf. Well, nothing to be done about that. You’ve already seen the campfire remains and learned too much,” the man shaded his eyes and forehead with his hat. “Attack. Kill them all. We need no witnesses.”