Chapter 17 The Swarm Approaches
When the sun finally rose, casting its golden light across the treetops, we arrived at the front gate of Mossveil.
The village lay nestled deep within the forest, surrounded by towering trees and veiled in morning mist. Its outer wall loomed high above us—constructed from thick, tightly bound logs sharpened at the tips like spears. It wasn’t just for decoration. This place was built to withstand an attack.
Sylendra exhaled slowly beside me, her posture relaxing as her glowing eyes scanned the wall.
“Good… we made it just in time,” she murmured, the tension in her voice easing for the first time since our ride began. She gently patted the Stone Bear beneath her. “Take us closer.”
The bears lumbered forward, their heavy paws thudding against the earth. We didn’t make it far before a voice rang out from atop the gate.
“That’s far enough! State your names and your purpose!”
A man stood above us on the wall walk, armed with a spear and wearing a patchwork set of leather and iron armor. His sharp eyes were trained on me in particular, his tone edged with caution.
Sylendra raised her voice in reply. “I am Sylendra, Dryad of the Gladehollow Forest!”
The moment her words echoed through the clearing, a murmur rippled across the top of the wall. Then the man called back, his tone quickly shifting. “The Dryad? My apologies, Lady Sylendra! One moment!”
The heavy groan of shifting timber filled the air as the log gates slowly creaked open.
From behind them emerged a strange-looking man—stocky, with a bristled beard and a scar that cut through his left brow.
He wore a green half-cloak pinned with a silver brooch and carried a large curved axe strapped to his back.
“I’m Captain Darruk of the Mossveil Guard,” he said, offering a short bow. “What brings the guardian of Gladehollow to our humble village?”
Sylendra’s expression turned serious again. “I bring urgent warning. A swarm of Gloomcroaks is heading toward Mossveil. We have very little time. You must prepare the village at once.”
The captain’s eyes widened. “Gloomcroaks? Are you certain?”
“One attacked the sacred lake near my domain,” Sylendra said grimly. “It had already begun corrupting the waters. Had Raito not intervened…” She paused, glancing at me. “The forest would’ve fallen.”
Captain Darruk turned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “A human? What’s a human doing out here, this deep in demi-human territory?”
Sylendra placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’s the one who saved me. He fought the corrupted beast alone and slew it before it could spread its filth further. He’s come to help protect your village.”
The captain studied me for a long moment, then let out a deep sigh through his nose. “If the Dryad vouches for you… then I’ll trust her judgment.” He gave a reluctant nod. “Alright. You may enter.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Sylendra said with a respectful dip of her head.
Darruk turned and motioned us forward. “Come. We’ll speak to the village chief immediately. He’ll want to hear all the details.”
As the gates opened fully and we entered Mossveil, Sylendra and I dismounted from the Stone Bears. The creatures rumbled quietly, remaining at the gate as ordered. We followed Darruk through the heart of the village.
The houses were modest, built from carved logs and stone with moss-covered rooftops that blended into the surrounding forest. Wooden bridges spanned narrow streams that wove between the buildings, and thick vines draped over archways like natural curtains.
But what stood out most weren’t the buildings—it was the people.
Dozens of villagers paused what they were doing to stare at us as we passed. Or more specifically… at me.
Their eyes held no curiosity. Only fear.
Their shoulders tensed. Children ducked behind mothers. Some even backed away entirely, retreating into their homes with hurried steps.
I frowned, my gaze sweeping over their nervous faces. “They’re… afraid of me,” I muttered under my breath.
Captain Darruk caught my expression and said, “You’re wondering why the villagers look at you that way?”
I nodded. “Yeah… I am.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “This village is hidden for a reason. Most of our people are demi-humans, but many of us were once slaves or survivors of human trafficking. Some of the faces you saw just now were sold like property—not long ago.”
I felt my chest tighten slightly. “Sold…?”
“Yeah,” he said, his tone low and grim. “Most of the outside world treats us like beasts. Humans in particular. I know that’s not fair to you—but when people have been hurt badly enough, they stop looking for the good ones.”
I nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling in. I didn’t blame them. If anything, I respected them more for surviving it all.
We continued walking in silence until we reached a larger building near the center of the village. Compared to the rest, it was sturdier, more decorated—with wind chimes hanging from the eaves and a totem carved into the wood above the door.
Captain Darruk stepped up to the door and knocked twice. A gruff voice answered from within.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Darruk, sir. I’ve brought guests.”
“Bring them in.”
The door creaked open, and we stepped inside.
The interior was warm and earthy, lit by hanging lanterns filled with softly glowing moss. Woven rugs lined the floors, and a thick scent of dried herbs lingered in the air.
At the far end of the room sat an elderly demi-human man with long silver hair, small horns curling back from his brow, and deep lines etched into his olive-toned face. His eyes, however, were sharp and alert.
He leaned forward slightly in his chair. “Sylendra… this is a surprise. And a human, too. This must be serious.”
“It is,” Sylendra said, stepping forward. “Forgive the intrusion, Chief Arven. I wish I came with better news. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll be direct.”
She explained everything. The Gloomcroak that appeared near Gladehollow. The signs of corruption. The eerie silence that fell across the animals. The poisoned water. The rotting fish. And then… the swarm.
As she spoke, the chief listened in silence, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His face grew more grim with each passing word.
“And you’re certain they’re heading here?” he asked when she finished.
Sylendra nodded. “I extended my senses before we arrived. There’s no mistaking it. They’re coming.”
Arven closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “I see. Then we must prepare immediately.”
The moment Chief Arven said those words, the door to his office burst open with a loud crash.
“Emergency! Emergency!”
A young demi-human man stumbled in, panting hard, his clothes damp with sweat and his face pale with panic.
Chief Arven rose from his chair immediately. “What is it, Taren? Speak!”
Taren clutched the doorframe, trying to catch his breath. “We spotted them—just thirty kilometers from the eastern ridge. A whole colony of Gloomcroaks, headed straight for us!”
The room fell into stunned silence.
My hands curled into fists. Thirty kilometers? That wasn’t far. At the speed those things moved, we didn’t have much time.
The chief’s voice was steady but grim. “How long until they reach us?”
Taren swallowed hard. “An hour, sir. Maybe less.”
Even Sylendra’s calm expression wavered.
But the scout wasn’t finished.
“There’s more,” he said, his voice lower now—almost fearful. “Behind them… behind the swarm… we saw it.”
Captain Darruk narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”
Taren’s gaze flicked between us. “A Molgurath.”
The name hit the room like thunder.
Sylendra stiffened beside me. Even the chief’s face lost its color.
I blinked. “A Molgurath?”
I turned to Sylendra, my voice low. “Sylendra, don’t tell me that’s…”
She nodded grimly. “Yes. It’s the Gloomcroak king. An S-rank monster.”
I exhaled slowly, a cold knot forming in my stomach.
S-rank. That changed everything.
Sylendra continued, her voice tight with concern. “Molguraths are born from the most ancient Gloomcroaks—those that have devoured enough corruption to evolve. Their presence spreads rot across the land with every step. Entire ecosystems collapse wherever they tread. If one reaches the village…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
Arven’s voice was steel. “Captain Darruk. Sound the alarm. Mobilize every able soldier. I want the perimeter reinforced, archers on the walls, and spellcasters positioned at every choke point.”
Darruk nodded. “Understood, Chief.”
“Taren,” the chief continued. “Begin the evacuation. Get the villagers to the lower shelters in the western grove. Prioritize the children and elderly. Move quickly, but calmly.”
“Yes, sir!”
They both rushed out, and Sylendra and I followed close behind.
---
The village erupted into motion like a kicked anthill.
The once-quiet paths were filled with shouting soldiers, the clang of armor, and the barked orders of captains rallying their squads.
Villagers hurried in all directions—some carrying bundles of supplies, others guiding children by the hand.
Horns blared in the distance, deep and mournful, echoing through the trees.
I helped where I could—lifting barricades, carrying crates of weapons—but the tension in the air was impossible to ignore.
Despite the efforts to keep things orderly, panic was beginning to set in.
I saw it in their eyes.
They glanced at me as I passed—quick, fearful looks filled with distrust. Some pulled their children closer. Others whispered behind their hands.
It stung more than I expected.
Just as I was about to help a group carry crates toward the wall, a small commotion caught my eye.
A little girl—no older than five—had tripped on the uneven path and fallen hard onto her hands and knees. She cried out as her knees scraped against the rough stone.
Without thinking, I moved toward her. “Hey, it’s okay—let me help you—”
Before I could reach her, a woman appeared out of the crowd—her mother, no doubt. She scooped the girl into her arms with trembling hands, shielding her from me as if I were some kind of threat.
She didn’t say anything—just gave me a quick, frightened look and hurried away.
I stood there, frozen for a moment. The sting in my chest deepened.
No matter what I did… to them, I was still a stranger. Still a human.
“You saw that, huh?”
I turned to see Captain Darruk watching me from a short distance away. His arms were crossed, and his expression unreadable.
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
He walked over, stopping just a few feet from me. “You handled that well. Some folks would’ve gotten angry… yelled. Demanded respect. But you didn’t.”
I looked down at my hands. “What would be the point? Their fear didn’t come from nowhere. If I were in their shoes, maybe I’d feel the same.”
He studied me for a long moment. “You’re not like most humans.”
“I wasn’t always like this,” I admitted. “But I’ve seen enough to know what it’s like to live under someone else’s rules. To be trapped by what people expect you to be.”
Darruk grunted. “Still. Trust isn’t built overnight. Especially in a place like this. But maybe… you’re the kind of person who could change that.”
I glanced at him, surprised by the softness in his voice.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly. “I’m still watching you. But I’ll admit… I’m glad you’re on our side.”
Before I could reply, a horn blasted from the lookout post above the gate.
A sharp, panicked tone.
Then came the call: “They’re here! Gloomcroaks sighted at the tree line!”
Darruk’s expression hardened instantly. “It’s time.”
He turned and shouted to the nearest guards. “Positions! Archers, ready your volleys! Don’t let them get close!”
I looked to Sylendra, who had appeared beside me. Her glow had returned, brighter than before, her eyes fierce with resolve.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
I drew my swords from my item box, the blades shimmering faintly in the morning light.
“Let them come.”