Chapter 194 – Blood Lake.

Rusty and Gleam slipped into the shadows behind a half-burned wagon, their movements muted by silencing spells. The faint light of the torches flickered over the ruined camp, making the corpses seem to twitch in the shifting glow. His metallic body shifted into its all-purpose form, and he lowered his halberd to keep it hidden from sight.

When the strangers drew near, he activated his skill to merge with the shadows and kept it running at a low output to conserve mana. This was something he could now do after the skill had leveled up. Although he had gained new abilities during this shadowy siege, he had not yet found the time to review them.

“We need to stay quiet.”

Rusty whispered.

“( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و”

“They’re not bandits and don’t look like they are from the settlement either…”

The footsteps grew louder. Cloaked figures emerged from the darkness, moving with eerie silence. There were five of them, each wearing a long crimson robe that shimmered faintly with pulsing enchantments beneath the fabric. They spread out through the camp, examining the bandits that Rusty had already slain.

None of them spoke. They moved slowly, as if studying the scene to understand what had happened. Rusty remained motionless, watching them closely. Their appearance reminded him of a group he had encountered in another city, followers of a strange cult. That was where he had first seen a powerful blood mage, and where his body had come into their possession for a time.

“It’s that strange cult. What are they doing here?”

Alexander sounded surprised to see them. One of the figures bore an ornate scythe tattoo bearing a crescent moon, which made their affiliation unmistakable.

“They could have followed us. We disrupted their plans. I would have done the same. A ruler cannot let lesser beings think they can get away with their crimes. An example has to be made so that it won’t happen again.”

Aburdon replied in a menacing tone. Rusty frowned at the thought. If they had tracked him here, could they also find their way to his smithy? He had people living there now, people he actually cared about. If his lair was attacked while he was away, it would be disastrous and might even draw the attention of the humanoids there. He at least knew that any involvement with the occult was frowned upon.

“Gleam, circle around, and get ready to attack.”

“( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و”

He made up his mind. It was better not to leave things up to chance. The force was small, and stopping it now would be best.

“Just try not to kill all of them this time, Rusty. It would be better if we knew how they managed to track us all the way here.”

Aburdon said as Gleam moved off and began circling the camp at a slow pace.

It was true. If Rusty killed everyone without learning how they had reached them, the consequences could be disastrous. Others might arrive later when this group failed to return with a report. He needed to understand how they were tracking him and find a way to stop it.

“It’s been a while since that incident. If they are tracking us, then either this mission is not very important or their method is weak.”

Alexander said as they watched the cloaked figures gather around the bandit leader. Finally, the strangers began to speak.

“This does not look like the work of a human. A monster must have been involved. It might have been that being… and it’s not alone.”

The one who spoke wore a robe that differed slightly from the others. He looked thin and wiry, and beneath his robe, he wore a kind of light armor. Two daggers hung at his sides, his primary weapons.

“We need to make sure. This one died recently; the ritual can be used.”

The group of five surrounded the dead bandit leader who had just fallen. The wiry man who seemed to be their leader drew one of his daggers and cut his finger. Blood began to drip quickly into the dead bandit’s open tiger-like mouth. The other four cultists stretched out their hands and began chanting in a strange language that he did not understand.

‘This is my chance. I should get closer.’

These cultists were strange and dangerous, but Rusty edged forward, hidden in his partial shadow form. His armor plates shifted silently under the effect of his silencing spell. His metallic frame caught no light as he crept closer, and soon he could see the strange ritual taking form.

The air grew heavy with the smell of iron and fresh blood. The bandit leader’s corpse twitched once, then again, before jerking violently. It stopped suddenly, and his head tilted back at an unnatural angle as his jaw cracked wide open.

“Rise and speak. Who or what did this to you?”

The wiry cultist’s voice was sharp and cold. His blood now formed thin crimson threads that connected with the corpse, somehow forcing it to move. The bandit’s one good eye snapped open. It was cloudy and red, but it turned toward the cultist who had commanded him.

“M-monsters…”

The voice was flat and lifeless, but it answered.

“What kind of monsters?”

The cultist’s tone demanded more. The corpse spoke slowly, its words dragging out.

“…metal… and… s-silver insect…”

The bandit’s mangled voice croaked the words. His head jerked violently, and his jaw opened even wider than it should have, the joints cracking wetly. His eye rolled back as the spell began to harm him.

“Leader, the spell is breaking.”

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“I know. Keep it steady. We need more information.”

“Metal… armor… glowing… eyes… unnatural…”

The cultist nodded as if the words confirmed what he was searching for. Then, just as he prepared to release the spell, he froze.

“We are not alone.”

He spoke and moved in the same instant, bending backward as a large halberd flew past him. Lightning crackled along the weapon’s edge, grazing his cloak and burning part of it before he threw it aside. One of his followers was not as lucky. The weapon struck the man’s head and hurled him into a pile of debris.