Traveler: Derek Walker 14 – Ghosts in the Castle, Wolves in the Village
Contrary to the gloomy, unpleasant atmosphere visible from the outside, the castle's interior was clean and impeccably organized. The luxurious carpet, tinged with an eerie crimson glow, seemed dyed in blood, while the chair positioned in one corner of the grand hall exuded the formality fit for a haughty lord or king. The massive chandelier adorning the ceiling glittered with colorful glass and jewels, laying bare the hall's antique splendor without restraint. What felt so alien in this aura of nobility was the oppressively eerie silence. In a vast hall that should ring with footsteps year-round, no one else was present besides me and Sera. It was as if the nobles reveling in a party here had been spirited away by some mysterious force.
Sera sniffed the air, surveying the hall.
"No human scent at all. It's like a meticulously crafted illusion~."
"This isn't a human castle. It's a ghost castle."
This opulent castle was the second stage of the Fairy Tale Dungeon: Evil Spirit Castle. Filled with malevolent spirits who failed to achieve their desires in life and now wandered the earth, hating all living things.
"Malevolent spirits!? Eek... Ghosts!"
Sera clutched her chest with both arms, freaking out. A dog beastkin might've been tougher against ghosts, but a cat beastkin? What a shame. Not that it mattered. Like the Garden of Seven Colors, Evil Spirit Castle was another stage that crumbled easily if you knew the strategy.
The entire Fairy Tale Dungeon was built that way from the start.
"Sera. Go around the mansion and collect all the portraits. The spirits materialize and roam the castle only at night when the sun fully sets. We've got time."
"Yes, Master!"
Sera and I gathered the portraits decorating the mansion. They were everywhere—grand hall, long corridors, lavish dining room, bedrooms, even the tower. No corner lacked them. Come nightfall, the spirits trapped in those paintings would emerge and haunt the halls, but for now, they were just scraps of paper.
Sera and I spent two hours scouring the entire mansion, collecting them.
"Are the spirits sleeping in these portraits~?"
We'd amassed over a hundred. At sunset, the spirits would burst out and rampage. Since their true bodies were the portraits, they revived no matter how many times you killed their manifestations—tricky bastards if you didn't know the gimmick.
I unleashed a mighty stream of piss onto the piled-up portraits.
Spiiiish!
A powerful cursed aura emanated from the portraits. But during the day, before sunset, these pests were powerless.
I sneered at the worthless scum.
You fucking retards.
"Right now, these spirits are no different from prisoners locked in their cells. I'll burn them all to ash. Fire Control."
The portraits burned beautifully. As they turned to cinders, horrific wails echoed from them—like the anguished screams of all the world's malice condensed into one.
Sera plugged her ears and looked away. The spirits, unable to touch a single hair on our heads before croaking, looked utterly pathetic.
Once the portraits were reduced to ashes, a new portal opened before us.
Second stage cleared, too damn easy.
"Let's go."
*-*-*
The portal spat us out in a quaint rural village. Simple homes with wooden walls and straw roofs dotted the landscape. No crude fence in sight—just serene peace that instantly relaxed me. The kind of tranquil village you'd find anywhere in the countryside.
At the village entrance, two men in straw hats harvested golden wheat from the fields. Sweat beaded their foreheads, but smiles never left their lips. The breeze swept through the sea of golden waves.
It reminded me of that famous novel opening describing wolves running through wheat fields. The wind-tossed grain looked just like wolves dashing across the plains—hence the name.
"Oh? Travelers? What brings you to our peaceful village?"
"Heh heh. It's been ages since we had visitors."
The two men, busy with the harvest, set down their sickles with kindly faces. Sera's tail swished lazily, her guard dropping at their warm, folksy voices. Even a beastkin's heart found solace in this scenery.
"This village is straight out of a fairy tale! A dungeon connected to a place like this? Unbelievable~!"
I ignored Sera and approached the men. This was a dungeon. As if it could be some ordinary, peaceful village.
"Care for a beer? Harvest season means we've got plenty of fresh wheat bread for snacks."
Beer with bread as a side? Didn't vibe with my tastes at all.
"No thanks."
"What business brings you to a backwater like ours? Aside from the barley and wheat you can find anywhere, we have no specialties."
"This."
Wind Cutter.
A razor-sharp blade of wind shot from my hand toward the man. Laden with mana, it wasn't mere metaphor—it was a blade in truth, slicing clean through.
The kindly man offering me a beer mug was bisected from torso to groin. His entrails spilled out with thick crimson blood, staining the golden wheat field. Blood-soaked gold—damn poetic.
His companion's face hardened at the sudden death, like he'd stared into Medusa's eyes.
"What!? Bandits!?"
Wind Cutter.
No questions asked—I halved the other one too. The peaceful wheat field turned into a hellish slaughterhouse with two corpses.
Sera stood beside me, eyes wide in shock. But she didn't dare defy me, a sign of her complete trust.
I answered before she could ask.
"Everyone in this village is a werewolf. On full moon nights, they turn into evil demons devouring humans. We have to exterminate and purify them all."
Werewolves were monsters distinct from wolf beastkin. They lost all reason upon transforming, craving only slaughter. In the human world, they were seen as humans possessed by ghosts or demons—and treated accordingly. At best, isolated; at worst, entire villages lynched. "Demon-possessed" humans often got light punishment for murder, leading to abuses under the guise of witch hunts.
Sera and I entered the village. Unaware of the carnage at the entrance, the villagers greeted us with smiling faces. Of course, inwardly, they saw tasty prey walking right in.
Darkness Arrow.
Sera and I began the massacre. The villagers, unable to transform, were pushovers in combat. They screamed and fled, but Sera unleashed her cat beastkin agility, slitting every last throat.
The idyllic little village became a cauldron of hell in just ten minutes.
"Gaaah! We'll curse you, you demons!"
"Werewolves who eat people calling us demons? What an amusing contradiction."
"You bastards! I don't know how you saw through us, but we'll have revenge! We'll rip your flesh, yank out your guts, smash your agonized faces to honor our fallen comrades!"
"Master. Why's this guy so cocky~?"
Sera eyed the village chief bleeding out.
"He has something to rely on. Like the Lycanthrope hidden in the village hall basement."
"Gah! How do you know about my boy...!"
"Sera. Fetch him."
"On it~!"
Moments later, Sera dragged back a boy who looked about ten. Terror twisted his innocent, rascal-like face, but this kid was the boss monster, fattened on countless human sacrifices from the villagers.
"Daddy!"
The boy screamed at the chief in a voice choked with fear.
"Shakan! You demon scum! Let go of my son!"
"Got it."
I severed the boy's left arm with Wind Cutter. He writhed in agony, shrieking.
"Aaaah! Daddy! It hurts! My arm...!"
"Uwaaaak! How dare you touch my son! You rat-shit bastards! I'll kill you all!"
"Loudmouths run in the family, huh?"
I chopped off the chief's arms and legs. Reduced to a wriggling maggot, he thrashed on the ground, howling. Hilarious sight.
"I'll make your boy match."
"Aaaak! It hurts! Spare me! Please, mercy!"
"Buhihit! The humans you ate must've begged the same. Did you spare any of them?"
I lopped off the boy's limbs too. Father and son, bald and limbless, made a perfect pair. Their screams harmonized fantastically.
"Uwaaaaaak!"
"Graaaaaak!"
Suddenly, the boy's skin mottled red and swollen. A cross-shaped vein mark appeared on his forehead, and his body ballooned like an inflated sphere. Taut muscles shredded his small clothes. Sera clicked her tongue.
"Transforming? The moon's not even up yet!?"
"Graahahaha! My son can transform through rage alone—no moon needed! You fools brought this on yourselves! Son! Devour these wretched humans!"
The boy, tears and snot streaming amid his agony, became a 3-meter humanoid wolf in seconds. Brown-and-red mane framed his neck. Clay-like flesh filled his severed stumps, morphing into fur-covered limbs. His claws, sharp enough to pierce human skin with a light press, menaced fiercely.
"Kill! Slaughter the human and beastkin, avenge our village folk... Gaaak!"
The Lycanthrope bit his vengeful father mid-sentence. To that monster, any human— even dad—was just a snack.
"No! I'm your father! Kraaaak! Son! Mercy!"
"Raised a tiger cub—or wolf pup, anyway. Die well."
The Lycanthrope devoured his father in a few bites. Crunching even the bones, its jaw strength was monstrous—a true beast incarnate.
"Sera. Your turn. Without a full moon, it's not at full power!"
I deliberately left it for Sera to gain the XP.
Sera bared her hidden claws and stepped forward.
"Leave it to me~!"
"Grrrrrrrowl!"
The Lycanthrope expanded its chest, inhaled deeply, and unleashed a deafening roar. A Howling potent enough to kill the weak-willed outright. It dispelled ally debuffs and inflicted them on foes—a top-tier skill. Sera had it too.
"Haaaaaaaah!"
Counter a howl with a howl. Sera's mighty roar, no less fierce, shoved the Lycanthrope back several steps. Losing a stare-down to a smaller female cat? What a disgrace for it.
Of course, Sera had grown tremendously through rigorous training and the Power of Sex. Even a full-moon Lycanthrope couldn't guarantee victory against her. If anything, she held the edge.
Sera leaped at the Lycanthrope with feline grace—light, nimble, eye-defying speed.
Rapid Claw!
Her signature barrage unleashed. The Lycanthrope was agile too, but couldn't match Sera's speed. It crumpled after barely thirty exchanges.
"Kyaack!"
Sera effortlessly sank her claws into its nape.