In the foul-smelling expanse of the sewers, twisted pipes and drainage conduits crisscrossed in every direction; anyone unfamiliar with the terrain would lose their way completely after turning a few corners.
They had to endure not only the pervasive, toxic stench, but also the myriad dangerous creatures lurking in the dark.
Fortunately, rogues and rangers were both classes adept at stealth.
Hastings and Hares were blood brothers, though those who knew them usually called the pair Dahei and Erha. Ordinarily, the two pretended not to know each other, occasionally putting on double acts to fleece greenhorns, and they had pulled off their fair share of treacherous backstabs against fellow crooks.
This time, they had intended to scam Anbaixiu, never expecting him to be craftier than the two of them combined. They had tailed him all the way into the sewers, only to lose sight of him entirely, ending up trapped in danger themselves instead.
The filthy, gloomy sewer had suddenly transformed into a magnificent, scenic garden. Even the foul stench pervading the air had vanished, replaced by the rich fragrance of blooming flowers.
Dahei the rogue frowned and said, "Something's not right. How could there be a garden in the sewers of the City of Alchemy?"
Erha the ranger replied nonchalantly, "Who knows? Nothing those alchemists make would surprise me."
Dahei had originally felt something was off, but upon hearing Erha's words, he immediately relaxed.
"You have a point. This place is really nice, and the flowers smell amazing."
Dahei took several deep breaths, feeling thoroughly relaxed in body and mind, completely unaware that his eyes were slowly becoming bloodshot. After walking through this garden for merely a few minutes, the two brothers were soon like vacant-eyed zombies, capable of nothing more than opening their mouths and drooling.
At this moment, a goddess cloaked in golden radiance appeared before them.
"Mortals, you have intruded upon a deity's domain."
The ethereal voice brought an excited expression to the brothers' dull, vacant faces. Gazing upon the beautiful goddess bathed in golden light, they hurried to kneel on the ground.
Drooling, Dahei asked, "Beautiful Goddess, which deity are you, may I ask?"
"I am Mystra, Goddess of Magic. You have been fortunate enough to find my garden, and I can grant you one wish."
Erha wore a bewildered look, mumbling in confusion, "Goddess of Magic? But... I'm a ranger..."
Dahei, however, could not wait any longer. "Great Goddess, I want... I want... I want you!"
In Dahei's eyes, this Goddess of Magic was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the absolute fulfillment of his every fantasy. By now, he had nearly lost all reason, heedless of committing blasphemy, wanting only to vent the lust burning within him.
Erha was taken aback by his brother's filthy, unabashed demand. This was a goddess!
To his shock, the glowing goddess Mystra took no offense at all, letting out a sweet melodic laugh instead.
"You have good taste, mortal. I shall grant your wish."
The goddess's response sent Dahei into an ecstatic frenzy. Unable to hold back, he pounced on her and began kissing and mauling her frantically.
Erha watched with sheer envy, wondering if he should make the exact same wish in a moment. But before he could speak, a tremendous force seized him from the side, dragging him away.
Erha had no time to react at all; his head spun, and the scenery before him underwent a complete upheaval.
The lovely haven of birdsong and fragrant blooms reverted into the filthy, foul-smelling sewer, and several burly men clad in leaves with antlers upon their heads suddenly appeared beside him.
One dark-skinned bruiser gripped Erha's arm and warned, "Don't move! The hag's illusion is far too powerful. We can barely keep it walled off. If you rush back out, we won't be able to save you."
Having just escaped the illusion, Erha had not yet grasped what was going on. He mumbled, dazed, "Rush out? Wait, where's my brother?!"
Looking toward where he had just stood, he found himself twenty or thirty meters away from Dahei. To his utter horror, he saw his elder brother clinging to a repulsive, sore-covered old crone, kissing her with ravenous passion.
"Blergh!"
Whether from the illusion's aftereffects or the sheer monstrosity before his eyes breaking his sanity, Erha heaved violently, retching until the world spun. It took him a long time before he could catch his breath.
When he looked back at his pitiful brother, Dahei was lying in the hideous monster's embrace with an expression of supreme bliss. Filthy, sickening grime covered his face and body, yet he wore a look of radiant happiness. Even more skin-crawling was that the hag and Dahei were lying atop a heap of rotting, mutated rats, covered in virulent, poisonous pus.
"Hurl—"
Erha could not hold it in and dry-heaved another round.
Looking back at the leaf-clad, muscular men beside him, Erha was suddenly flooded with gratitude. If not for their intervention, he would likely have suffered that same nightmarish torment.
Erha blurted out a dozen thank-yous in rapid succession before asking, "Are you druids?"
The dark-skinned man who had grabbed him replied, "I am Van Jones. We are druids of the Golden Vine Clan. We also carelessly fell into the hag's illusion and have no way of escaping now."
Erha glanced around. There were six people dressed as druids in total—four men and two women. Three of them were clustered together chanting incantations under their breath, seemingly maintaining some kind of magical ritual.
Van Jones continued to explain, "Right now, we can only rely on the Ritual of Thorns to isolate the illusion's influence. But even with us rotating constantly, we can't hold out much longer."
Only then did Erha notice how gaunt and haggard all the druids looked, as if they had not slept properly for days.
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Erha asked anxiously.
He wanted to save his brother, but with his own strength alone, there was no chance.
"We don't know. We're only holding out for a sliver of distant hope."
Van Jones's tone was heavy with helplessness. They could not fully break the hag's illusion. They had tried attacking her several times, but found her elusive and untraceable; whether summoning beasts or casting nature magic, nothing could harm her.
Meanwhile, the illusion was continuously draining the druids' strength. Once the Ritual of Thorns ceased, everyone would fall under the hag's enchantment once again.
The only reason they had stepped in to save Erha was out of a druid's naturally kind disposition, as well as a faint hope that he might bring a turning point.
Judging by the look of things, however, this ranger had no way to break the deadlock either.
Van Jones sighed. "Silvanus preserve us... perhaps this is our time to return to the grove."
Erha suddenly remembered Anbaixiu and Naomi, whom he had seen at the tavern, and asked, "Do you have another clan member—a young female druid with short blonde hair?"
Van Jones asked in surprise, "You know Naomi?"
"I don't know her, but I've seen her! She brought help, and they should be down here in the sewers by now. If we hold on just a bit longer, we might be saved!" Erha said this not only to comfort Van Jones, but to reassure himself. Any thought of double-crossing or shaking anyone down had completely vanished from his mind; he only wanted Anbaixiu to show up immediately and slaughter this hag.
Van Jones was shocked. "Naomi came back?! That child... is she out of her mind? Wasting everyone's sacrifice in vain!"
Erha said urgently, "Don't get so discouraged! The helper she brought seems really strong, and he's an undead! He's especially suited to this sewer environment—he can definitely take on the hag!"
Van Jones suddenly grabbed Erha by the collar, agitated, and roared in interrogation, "What did you say? An undead?!"
Chapter 27