Chapter 50 : Miraculously Surviving After the Ordeal
“Careful! A monster is coming!”
Upon confirming the intruder wasn’t human, Gauss immediately warned the group who were engrossed in their “work.”
The second person to spot the monster was Meiva; prompted by Gauss, she quickly locked onto the creature on the riverbank in the distance.
“Is it a ghoul? Or a more powerful revenant-type fiend?”
Once she identified the target, her previously calm heartbeat instantly raced.
“What are you talking about? Didn’t we kill all the water wraiths?” Doyle, not far away, hadn’t realized yet.
Following the direction of the warning, once he saw the creature itself he jumped up from the ground in fright, his face pale.
Unlike the water wraiths, both ghouls and revenants require professionals to handle.
Immediately, everyone stopped their gathering work, grabbed their packs, clustered together, and felt uneasy.
Though both ghouls and water wraiths feed on carrion, ghouls are far more powerful; in fact, for most low‑level adventurers, they’re terrifying foes capable of wiping out a party.
Besides, it looked nothing like a loose water wraith; it looked more like a well‑trained, tall, robust warrior.
“Don’t panic. I think the situation isn’t that bad.” Meiva observed for a moment, then spoke calmly.
For one, this might be a lone ghoul.
And secondly, it didn’t seem like it was about to attack everyone, or it wouldn’t have strolled down the riverbank so clearly.
Although ghouls require professionals to confront, they were still a decently equipped group of six; one lone ghoul without backup might not initiate combat.
After all, creatures have instincts to seek gain and avoid harm.
Most importantly, nearly twenty rotting water‑wraith corpses lay on the ground—plenty for it to feed on.
“Yes, it probably just wants to drive us off,” Gauss also realized.
They’d been perplexed earlier when counting fewer water‑wraiths than expected; now it was clear those missing ones had fallen prey to this ghoul.
Their minds settled somewhat, though they stayed close and alert.
“Don’t turn and run recklessly—that could anger it. Back away slowly; we can’t outrun it,” Levin reminded them with sweat on his brow. “But stay ready to fight.”
The ghoul looked slow, but within ten or so steps, it reached the open space.
“Get out! Get far away!”
The ghoul raised its head, staring at them with blood‑red eyes. Its long tongue flicked, and it bellowed in broken Common.
Its hoarse, gloomy voice sounded like an old dog snarling.
Whether due to its horrifying appearance or its predator aura, Gauss felt unsettled hearing its halting speech, as if mentally polluted.
Cold sweat poured from everyone’s foreheads.
Its life‑force aura, seemingly from another plane, exerted huge pressure!
“Sh‑should we fight?” Doyle’s hand shook as he gripped his sword, looking at his teammates for advice.
“No. We withdraw.” Without hesitation, Gauss and the others made the same decision.
Though he’d gained a speed boost and learned the new spell Mage Armor, Gauss had no desire to face this creature in battle.
Of course, he wouldn’t fear a true life‑or‑death fight, but this wasn’t at that point yet.
Especially facing a ghoul with that kind of aura.
Even if they could ultimately win, the squad would suffer heavy casualties.
Withdrawal wasn’t disgraceful—it was wisdom.
Doyle relaxed.
They stepped aside from the wraith corpses, faced the ghoul, weapons in hand, and cautiously retreated.
Meiva watched their path behind, wary of traps or ambushes.
They remained on edge until they had retreated several dozen meters, and the ghoul began devouring the wraith bodies, unbothered.
Once at a safe distance, they turned and hurried toward the village.
“Whew—”
Dim candlelight spilled through windows onto the street.
Seeing lights and people again, returned to a human‑gathered place, everyone finally exhaled a sigh of relief.
They panted heavily, chests heaving as if their hearts might burst.
“We actually survived!” Oliver wiped sweat from his brow in sheer relief, feeling no shame in his joy.
They were just a group of low‑level adventurers who hadn’t taken professional paths; escaping from a ghoul was truly something to be grateful for.
If they had the guts, it would be a drunken brag in the tavern later.
“What are you saying—you’re such a wimp,” Doyle straightened his back, feigning composure. “I wasn’t scared at all. If you hadn’t said ‘let’s retreat’ I’d have been ready to fight.”
“If your hand would stop shaking, that’d be a bit more believable,” Meiva said expressionlessly, shooting him a look.
Gauss followed her gaze and saw Doyle’s hand literally trembling—either from carrying the sword while running or sheer terror.
Either way, Doyle got caught red‑handed and had nothing credible to say; he just waved his hand, muttering it was exhaustion, not fear.
“All right, let’s head to the tavern and tell Harvey the innkeeper what just happened,” Levin said, feeling lucky to have survived but quickly regaining his composure.
The ghoul’s appearance wasn’t the end of the impact.
Though they narrowly escaped, it was only because there were ready‑made corpses; without those, it’d have been hopeless.
And they could leave after finishing the job—but what about the villagers?
They needed to inform the locals so they could request a ghoul contract at the Adventurer’s Guild.
Plus, although they’d killed the water wraiths, they hadn’t yet collected all the spoils.
Their packs lacked proof of job completion, which they would also explain to Harvey.
Their commission was not fully complete.
They entered the village’s only tavern.
As one of the few entertainment venues, the Mermaid Tavern was brightly lit and livelier than the daytime.
Bearded sailors guzzled from clay bowls contentedly; red‑faced deckhands shook dice cups and shouted their rolls; a hairy middle‑aged man, drunk off his ass, stripped off his shirt and danced around the cramped hall…
The tavern was full of rowdy chaos.
“Screee—”
As the door was kicked open, even before the newcomers stepped inside, a heavy stench of fishy rot burst in.
A drunk who was half‑leaning on the wooden door snapped startled, already annoyed at the noise—now the stench reddened his face further.
“Where did this stinky beggar come from? Get out!”
“Slap!”
The drunk’s flailing arm was seized by a huge hand.
All eyes turned to the doorway.
Moonlight spilled through the gap as a squad of towering, filthy adventurers staggered in.
Closer inspection revealed entrails, blood clots, and organ fragments lodged in the cracks of their armor.
For a moment, they looked like demons emerging from hell in everyone’s eyes.
The noisy crowd instantly fell silent, as if their throats were pinched.