After confirming they’d continue with the mission, the group grabbed a quick meal at the tavern and took a short break. Once the sun wasn’t so harsh, they headed to the riverbank to start looking for clues.
The afternoon sunlight danced across the water, casting a warm golden shimmer across the rippling surface. A gentle breeze rolled in, rustling the multicolored water grasses along the bank.
For a moment, as they took in the breathtaking scenery, the group fell silent—almost forgetting they were here on a job.
“This should be the spot the tavern owner mentioned, right?”
Gauss crouched down and pointed to a few dried, dark brown bloodstains on the rocks by the shore. He waved the others over.
According to the chubby tavern owner, Harvey, this was where the sailors had clashed with the water ghouls.
“Yeah, this looks like it,” Laevin said, approaching to get a closer look.
“There’s human blood mixed with... something nasty. Like rotten fish.” Meva leaned in and took a sniff, wincing slightly before returning to her usual deadpan expression.
Though subtle, Gauss caught her reaction and couldn’t help but chuckle silently to himself.
He’d only recently learned that Meva, the roguish scout of their team, had a skill called Perception—a passive ability that heightened her senses to detect hidden enemies, traps, or clues.
And because she had some elven blood, her natural senses were sharper than most. Her version of Perception was likely far more effective than that of any other rogue trainee.
If anyone besides Gauss was most likely to reach the rank of a true professional soon, it would probably be Meva.
Of course, that heightened perception came with a drawback—it amplified unpleasant sensory input too. No wonder she reacted so strongly to the stench of water ghouls.
Gauss’s mind turned to everything he’d learned about these creatures.
Water ghouls were a relatively common monster in this world. They resembled emaciated humanoids—sunken eyes, long limbs, bulging joints, hunched backs. Their skin was a grayish-green and constantly covered in a layer of foul, rotting slime.
Because of their human-like features, there were folk legends claiming they were the restless spirits of people who had drowned.
They lived in or near water—rivers, lakes, swamps—and hunted opportunistically. They’d eat just about anything: animal carcasses, garbage, mud, decaying plants, fruit pulp—you name it.
Sometimes they lured humans close to the shore with mimicry, then dragged them into the water to drown before feasting on their insides.
Water ghouls rarely operated solo, but they didn’t swarm in massive hordes either—usually packs of 10 to 15. So having more than 20 in this area was considered a pretty large group.
“Where the hell are they hiding?” Doyle muttered irritably, chucking a rock into the water.
It hit hard but quickly disappeared beneath the current.
Water ghouls were excellent swimmers, but they still needed to surface occasionally for air. They preferred shallow water zones—mudflats, swamps, silty banks—not deep rivers.
So where had they gone?
“If we don’t spot them soon, we’ll have to wait until sundown. They’re more active at night.”
The team had anticipated a situation when they took the job.
If the ghouls were determined to stay submerged, it would be nearly impossible for low-tier adventurers to deal with them in open water.
Thankfully, their intelligence wasn’t that high, so other methods could usually draw them out of hiding.
“Guess bringing this stuff paid off,” Laevin said, pulling out two rotting gray rabbit carcasses. “We’ll set up bait traps later.”
With no leads for now, the group decided to withdraw for the time being to avoid spooking their targets.
They returned to the riverbank and carefully set up their trap at a different location.
The rabbit carcasses, left to rot for days, were now crawling with maggots. After dousing them with a scent catalyst, the stench became unbearable—exactly what water ghouls loved.
Once everything was in place, the team lay in wait.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, finally vanishing behind the hills.
The sky darkened, but the riverbank was open enough that the moonlight still lit up the shore fairly well.
Just as the group was about to pack up and call it a night, thinking they’d come up empty, they heard it—
The quiet slosh of water, growing louder by the second.
Under the moon’s silver glow, shadowy figures began to emerge from the shallows. Long, gnarled fingers parted the reeds. Webbed, blackened toes splashed on the stones.
One by one, the creatures crawled onto the riverbank—silent, glistening, and grotesque.
There were about a dozen of them—pitch-black, dripping, and utterly bone-chilling.
The lead ghoul peered cautiously around. Only when it was sure there were no threats nearby did it signal the rest to follow. But even then, none of them strayed far from the water’s edge.
“They’re… this careful?” Laevin whispered, frowning.
Something felt off. These ghouls weren’t behaving like the reckless scavengers described by Harvey.
They seemed more like prey—scared, on edge, wary of something else entirely.
Something they feared more than the adventurers lying in wait.
But whatever the case, the trap was set and the ghouls were here. Laevin shoved the thought aside and focused on the mission.
Eventually, the ghouls let out raspy growls and, unable to resist the overpowering stench, slowly crept toward the bait.
The specially treated, rotting rabbit meat must’ve hit just right—it was like offering filet mignon to a starving man.
The team remained perfectly still, watching the ghouls inch closer.
Gauss silently counted their numbers.
That’s three fewer than expected.
The mission had said over twenty. Even subtracting the two the drunk sailors killed, there should’ve been around twenty left.
So where were the missing ones?
Had they stayed behind? Split from the group?
Or... had something else happened?
After all, monsters in the wild were just as vulnerable to danger as humans—accidents, predators, natural disasters.
Even getting eaten by something bigger.
Gauss tightened his grip on his weapon.
Whatever the reason, the fight was coming.