Boom! A thunderous crash resounded as Will struck the innkeeper squarely in the abdomen, the force so great it shattered the wooden floor beneath them. The innkeeper, unable to withstand such a blow, collapsed once again into unconsciousness.
"B-Blood! You're bleeding!" Johnny, sprawled on the ground, gasped in alarm. Will glanced down and finally noticed—his arm had been pierced clean through by a dagger, blood flowing steadily. During his attack, the innkeeper had managed to drive Will's own blade into him.
"Are... are you alright?" Johnny asked weakly.
"I'm fine," Will gritted through clenched teeth. He grasped the hilt and yanked the blade from his arm with a sharp jerk. Tearing a strip from the innkeeper's violet robe, he hastily wrapped the wound.
"I can't forget this," Will muttered, bending down to slip the innkeeper's ring—adorned with a shimmering stone of Magstone—off his finger and into his pocket.
"That should keep us safe for now." He glanced at the motionless innkeeper, nudging him twice with his boot to confirm he was well and truly unconscious.
"Now, let's see if we can find a cure for you." Will made his way to the desk and began rifling through the innkeeper's belongings.
"There's a wooden box!" Will exclaimed, crouching before it. He stood suddenly, as if he'd unearthed treasure.
"There's a diary... and some letters." He opened the box and peered inside. Casting a glance at the unconscious innkeeper, he opened the diary and began to read:
"October 2, 1505 — The situation worsens. More townsfolk have succumbed to the strange illness. My condition has also deteriorated—I'm coughing up more of that foul, dark green bile. The nightmares grow vivid, almost real.
November 10, 1505 — I've been bedridden for five days. A stranger came today, dressed in violet robes and a hood. He claimed I am not ill—that the green fluid and the dreams are visions, divine revelations from an ancient god. Few can comprehend these omens, he said. The others died because they were unworthy. He asked for my aid. He claimed the ancient god would soon descend upon our world.
March 15, 1515 — My followers and I have located the god's resting place beneath Remm Town. To keep others away, we've spread word that Remm is a dead town. We've established our sanctuary beneath the church. All we need now is another Chosen—one who shares the vision—to summon the god.
June 13, 1515 — We found one. Another dreamer touched by the god. He once lived in Remm and has suffered the same nightmare for years. He is the one. We shall conduct the ritual in seven days and offer him to the god."
"So you're not sick after all, Johnny," Will closed the diary and turned to him.
"What? Really?" Johnny asked, confused.
"But… all those people in Remm—how did they die?" he pressed.
"Maybe they were killed... to create the illusion that the town was cursed, to keep others away," Will said grimly, nodding toward the innkeeper.
"Come on. We need to get you home. You and your mother must leave this place at once. Do you understand?" Will spoke firmly.
"Yes, right away!" Johnny nodded quickly.
Will placed the diary back on the desk, then pulled out the bundle of letters from the wooden box.
"We will soon launch a full-scale attack on the Paralar Empire. I urge you to send agents ahead to spread panic among the populace. —M."
"What is this…?" Will's voice trembled. This was no jest. He seized the unconscious innkeeper and shook him violently.
"Wake up! You hear me? Wake up!"
"Ugh…" The innkeeper groaned, slowly regaining consciousness.
"Tell me this isn't true! Say it!" Will waved the letter in his face, his voice a furious snarl.
"Heh… My men… they've already gone…" the innkeeper muttered weakly.
"Damn you!" Will roared, slamming his fist into the man's face. The innkeeper was sent sprawling, unconscious once more.
"What happened?" Johnny asked, alarmed.
"We're leaving—now!" Will lifted Johnny onto his back and sprinted from the inn.
"Do you remember the way home?" he asked as he ran.
"Yes! Just follow this road straight ahead!" Johnny replied.
"Alright. Hold on tight!" And with that, Will pushed forward, running as fast as his legs could carry them.
Moments later.
"Here we are." Will slowed to a halt, gently setting Johnny down. The boy stumbled awkwardly toward his house.
"Mother! Mother!" Johnny cried, bursting through the door.
"Johnny? Johnny!" His mother rushed to him, sobbing as she embraced her son.
"I must go now," Will said from the doorway. "Leave this place at once. The sooner, the better."
"Thank you, thank you, brave hero!" Johnny fell to his knees, bowing over and over.
"There's one thing—what's the quickest path to the Paralar Empire?" Will asked.
"There is a way! Take that trail into the forest and head west. You'll reach it in no time," Johnny replied eagerly.
"Thank you. Farewell—and take care." Will turned and sprinted down the trail without another word.
Damn it… Why? Why are they attacking the Paralar Empire? Who are these people? Will's thoughts raced as he ran.
"Father… Mother… Eddie… Please, be safe!" he whispered to the wind. His face was etched with worry, his heart weighed by dread. He couldn't begin to imagine the horrors those violet-cloaked fanatics might unleash.