The ghoul''s teeth snapped shut a hair''s breadth from Val''s face. He twisted away, the rank stench of decay washing over him as he drove his sword up through the creature''s jaw. The blade punched through rotting flesh and bone with a sickening crunch, emerging from the top of the ghoul''s skull in a spray of blackened gore. Val wrenched his weapon free and spun to face the next threat, his breath coming in controlled bursts, every muscle tensed for combat.


    "On your left!"


    Val pivoted instantly, his blade lashing out to catch a lunging ghoul across the throat. The creature''s head nearly separated from its body, hanging by a thread of gristle as it collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs. The forest clearing fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the rangers and the wet sounds of the last ghoul thrashing in its death throes.


    "Everyone whole?" Captain Alfen called, wiping black ichor from his blade with a scrap of cloth.


    Val sheathed his sword and surveyed the carnage around them. Six ghouls lay scattered across the forest floor, their bodies already beginning to decay at an accelerated rate now that whatever foul magic animated them had been severed. This was the third such encounter since they''d left the main road, and Val knew it wouldn''t be the last.


    "Third patrol in under an hour," Toren muttered, coming to stand beside Val. The veteran scout''s face was spattered with dark fluids, but his eyes remained sharp and alert. "They''re thick as flies on a corpse out here."


    "The flies will only get worse with this smell" Val chuckled, his gaze scanning the trees surrounding their position.


    Captain Alfen approached, his weathered face set in grim lines. "We need to keep moving, these patrols will be missed eventually, and I''d rather not be here when their friends come looking."


    Val nodded in agreement. "The north road runs through a series of hills about two miles ahead," he said, recalling the terrain from his previous journey. "If we stick to the forest on the eastern side, we can maintain cover all the way to the crest."


    "Good," Alfen said, turning to address the assembled rangers. "We move in extended formation, five-yard spacing. Toren, take point. Maren, bring up the rear. Keep noise to a minimum and eyes sharp. These woods are crawling with undead, and I want to see them before they see us."


    The rangers formed up quickly, falling into the practiced routine of a combat patrol. They moved in a silence that marked them as veterans, each step carefully placed, each sense attuned to the forest around them. Val found himself in the middle of the formation, his wound still limiting his mobility somewhat despite the healing it had received.


    They proceeded north at a steady pace, paralleling the main road while remaining concealed within the treeline. The forest was unnaturally quiet, devoid of the usual sounds of wildlife. No birds sang, no squirrels chattered among the branches, no deer crashed through the underbrush at their approach. Only the soft rustle of their passing and the occasional creak of leather or clink of metal broke the oppressive silence.


    Half an hour passed without incident, the rangers making good progress despite the need for stealth. The terrain began to rise gradually as they approached the hill country that marked the halfway point between Oakspire and Willow Creek. Through gaps in the trees, Val caught glimpses of rolling hills ahead, their slopes covered in tall grass that swayed gently in the afternoon breeze.


    Toren held up a closed fist, and the column instantly froze in place. The scout pointed to a patch of disturbed earth ahead, then made a series of quick hand signals. *Tracks. Multiple. Fresh. *


    Alfen moved forward silently, crouching beside Toren to examine the sign. The forest floor was marked with numerous footprints, the soil churned and compacted by many feet passing in the same direction. Val knelt, examining the impressions closely.


    Toren pointed to a separate set of tracks, larger and deeper than the others. "Not just ghouls," he murmured. "Something big moved with them. See how the earth is compressed here?"


    Val examined the tracks Toren indicated, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. "Ogre, maybe," he said, remembering the monstrous creature that had nearly killed him in Willow Creek. "Or something similar."


    Alfen''s face hardened at this news. "Change of plan," he decided. "We follow these tracks. If there''s a significant force moving toward Willow Creek, we need to know its strength and composition."


    The rangers adjusted their formation, now following the undead tracks rather than proceeding directly north. They moved with even greater caution than before, aware that they might be walking into a much larger concentration of enemies than they had yet encountered.


    The tracks led them slightly east, away from their original path, before curving back northward. The terrain continued to rise, the forest thinning as they approached the edge of the hill country. Ahead, the trees gave way to rolling grasslands, a series of steep hills and narrow valleys that offered both concealment and danger.


    Toren signaled another halt as they reached the forest''s edge. Beyond the last line of trees, the undead tracks continued into the open grassland, heading toward a deep gully between two steep hills. The scout made a series of quick hand signals, indicating that he would move ahead.


    Alfen nodded his approval, and Toren slipped away, using the tall grass for concealment as he advanced toward the gully. The remaining rangers took up defensive positions at the forest''s edge, watching for any sign of movement across the open terrain.


    Val found himself beside Maren, both of them crouched behind a fallen log that offered a good view of the approach to the hills. "What do you think they''re doing out here?" Maren asked in a whisper, her eyes never leaving the grasslands ahead.


    "Gathering," Val replied, the word feeling heavy on his tongue. "Marshaling their forces before the next assault."


    "On Willow Creek?" Maren asked.


    "Or to move deeper in the valley," Val said grimly. "The army is following this same path. If these undead get behind them..."


    He didn''t need to finish the thought. If a significant force attacked the army company from behind while they were engaged at Willow Creek, the results could be catastrophic.


    Long minutes passed as they waited for Toren''s return. The sun had begun its descent toward the western horizon, casting long shadows across the grasslands. The breeze picked up, sending waves rippling through the tall grass, making it harder to spot movement at a distance.


    When Toren finally returned, his face was ashen. He made straight for Alfen, his usual stealth momentarily forgotten in his haste to report. The rangers gathered close, sensing that the scout had discovered something significant.


    "They''re in the gully," Toren reported, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "Hundreds of them. Ghouls, mostly, but other undead beasts as well."


    A chill ran through the group at this news. A force of that size could overwhelm Willow Creek or seriously threaten the approaching army company.


    "Show me," Alfen ordered, his face grim.


    Toren led Alfen and Val back to the edge of the forest, pointing toward a spot where the grass grew particularly tall along the rim of the gully. "There," he whispered. "If you belly-crawl through the grass, you can see down into the ravine from there without being spotted."


    Alfen nodded and dropped to his stomach, beginning the slow, careful process of crawling through the grass without disturbing it enough to be noticed. Val followed suit, ignoring the protest from his healing wounds as he pressed himself against the earth.


    They moved with painful slowness, freezing whenever the breeze died down to avoid creating unnatural movement in the grass. It took nearly fifteen minutes to cover the hundred yards to the position Toren had indicated, but finally, they reached the edge of the gully.


    Carefully, Val raised his head just enough to peer over the rim, and what he saw made his blood run cold.


    The ravine below was packed with undead. Hundreds of them stood in eerie silence, packed shoulder to shoulder in the narrow space. Ghouls made up the majority, their rotting forms clad in the tattered remnants of common clothing; simple tunics and trousers, work boots and aprons. Some still wore the fragments of militia armor, broken chainmail or dented breastplates that had failed to protect them in life.


    Interspersed among the mass were more formidable undead. Wights in rusted armor, their hollow eye sockets somehow still conveying a malevolent intelligence. A revenant, its form more solid than the others, emanating an aura of hatred and purpose that Val could feel even at this distance.


    "Stonebridge," Val whispered, the word barely audible even to himself. "These must be the people of Stonebridge."


    Alfen''s jaw tightened, the only visible sign of the emotion he must be feeling. "A good chunk of the population, by the looks of it," he agreed in a grim whisper. "Plus their militia."


    "Why are they just standing here?" Val wondered, scanning the mass of undead for some clue to their purpose.


    "Waiting for orders, perhaps," Alfen suggested. "Or for reinforcements, or for nightfall."


    "We need to warn the army," Val said with urgency in his voice, thoughts drifting to Alea.


    Alfen nodded, his eyes still fixed on the horrific scene below. "And we need to reach Willow Creek. If there are forces like this positioned along all the approaches..."


    He didn''t need to finish the thought. If similar undead forces were gathered around Willow Creek, the village might already be surrounded and cut off from aid.


    They withdrew with the same caution they had used to approach, crawling backward through the grass until they reached the relative safety of the forest edge. The other rangers were waiting, their faces tense with anticipation.


    Alfen wasted no time. "Jens, Kitra," he called, selecting two rangers from the group. "Return to the army. Tell them what we''ve found, a force of several hundred undead, concealed in the ravine east of the north road, approximately halfway between them and Willow Creek. They need to approach with extreme caution and be prepared for an ambush from their flank or rear."


    The two rangers nodded, understanding the gravity of their mission. "What about you, sir?" Jens asked.


    "We''ll continue to Willow Creek as planned," Alfen replied.


    After the messengers had departed, Alfen gathered the remaining rangers for a brief council. "The direct route is clearly not an option," he said, his voice low but carrying easily to the assembled group. "We''ll need to circle wide to the west, using the hills for cover, then approach Willow Creek from the northwest."


    "That''s rough country," Maren pointed out, map unfurled. "Deep ravines, steep slopes, very little cover in places."


    "Better than walking into a waiting enemy," Toren countered, his weathered face grim.


    "Agreed," Alfen said with a nod. "Ranger Hearne, you know this territory. What''s our best route?"


    Val considered the question, mentally mapping the terrain ahead. "Three ridges west of here, there''s a series of narrow valleys that run roughly north-south," he said after a moment. "Local shepherds use them to move their flocks between pastures. The valleys are deep enough to hide our passage, and they open out into the forest northwest of Willow Creek."


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Alfen nodded, satisfied with the plan. "Lead on, then. We''ll follow the forest edge west until we reach these valleys, then proceed north."


    The rangers moved out, skirting the edge of the forest as they headed west. They maintained their extended formation and vigilant watch, aware that other patrols might be operating in the area. The sun continued its descent, the light taking on the golden quality of late afternoon. In a few hours, darkness would fall, and the undead would gain the advantage of their superior night vision.


    After an hour of careful movement, they reached the series of valleys Val had described. From the forest''s edge, they looked like deep wrinkles in the landscape, narrow defiles between steep, grassy slopes. The entrances to the valleys were partially obscured by scrub and the occasional stunted tree, offering some concealment for their approach.


    "This is it," Val confirmed, pointing to the nearest valley. "These run for about two miles before opening out into the forest north of Willow Creek."


    Alfen surveyed the terrain with a practiced eye. "Tight quarters," he observed. "If we''re spotted, there''s nowhere to maneuver."


    "True," Val acknowledged. "But the walls are steep enough that the undead would have a hard time descending quickly. We''d have warning before they reached us."


    "It''s our best option," Maren added. "Unless we want to go all the way around the hill country, which would add hours to our journey."


    Alfen considered this, then nodded decisively. "We''ll take the valleys. Toren, you''re on point. Watch for signs that the undead have used these paths. Val, stay close behind him."


    The rangers formed up in single file, with Toren leading and Val directly behind him. They descended into the nearest valley, the steep walls rising on either side to create a narrow corridor barely ten feet wide in places. The floor of the valley was rocky but passable, worn smooth by generations of shepherds and their flocks.


    They moved with careful haste, balancing the need for speed against the risk of making too much noise. The walls of the valley provided excellent concealment from any observers on the surrounding hills, but the confined space made Val uneasy. If they were discovered, retreat would be difficult, and fighting in such narrow confines would negate many of the rangers'' advantages in mobility.


    As they proceeded deeper into the valley system, the walls grew higher and steeper, creating an even greater sense of isolation. The sky above was reduced to a narrow ribbon of blue between the grassy slopes. The air was cooler here, trapped in the shadow of the hills, and carried a faint, earthy scent of soil and stone.


    They had traveled perhaps a mile through the valleys when Toren halted abruptly, raising a closed fist to signal danger. The column froze in place, hands moving to weapons. Val moved forward to join Toren, his eyes scanning for whatever had alerted the scout.


    "There," Toren whispered, pointing to a patch of disturbed earth on the valley floor ahead. "Tracks. Recent."


    Alfen''s face hardened as he considered this new information. "We proceed with even greater caution," he decided. "If we encounter any undead in these confined quarters, we eliminate them quickly and quietly. We can''t afford to alert the main force we saw earlier."


    The rangers acknowledged the order with grim nods, checking their weapons and adjusting their equipment to minimize noise. They resumed their advance, now moving even more carefully than before, each step placed with deliberate precision to avoid creating sounds that might echo off the valley walls.


    The tracks they had discovered continued northward, sometimes vanishing on rocky ground only to reappear where the soil was softer. Val kept a close eye on them, alert for any sign that the undead might have doubled back or set an ambush ahead.


    As the valleys began to widen slightly, the walls becoming less steep, Val sensed they were approaching the northern end of the hill country. The light was changing too, taking on the deep golden hue of late afternoon. They had perhaps two hours of daylight left, just enough to reach the forest beyond the hills before darkness fell.


    Toren signaled another halt, this time with a different hand gesture that indicated he had heard something ahead. The rangers froze in place, straining to catch whatever had alerted the scout. For long moments, there was only silence. Then, carried on the still air of the valley, came the unmistakable sounds of combat. The clash of steel, the meaty thud of weapons striking flesh, and the inhuman shrieks of ghouls.


    Alfen moved to the front of the column, his expression intent as he listened to the sounds of battle ahead. He made a quick series of hand signals, ordering the rangers to prepare for combat while maintaining their current position. Then he gestured to Toren and Val, indicating they should move ahead to investigate.


    The three men advanced cautiously, weapons drawn but held low to avoid reflecting any stray light. The sounds of combat grew louder as they approached the end of the valley, where it opened out into what appeared to be a small clearing at the edge of the forest.


    They reached a position where the valley wall had partially collapsed, creating a slope gentle enough to climb. Toren led the way, scrambling up the loose soil and rock with practiced ease despite his age. Val and Alfen followed, keeping low to avoid silhouetting themselves against the sky.


    From their elevated position, they had a clear view of the clearing beyond. What they saw sent a surge of urgency through Val.


    Two rangers were fighting for their lives in the center of the clearing, surrounded by a dozen or more ghouls. The rangers fought back-to-back, their movements coordinated and efficient despite their obvious exhaustion. One was clearly wounded, blood staining her left side, but she continued to fight with desperate determination. Between them, half-hidden by their defensive formation, lay a third ranger, motionless on the ground.


    Even at this distance, Val recognized the lead ranger. "Lysa," he breathed, identifying the lean, dark-haired woman who served as one of the squad leaders in Ranger Company Two.


    Val burst from the valley''s mouth, his sword gleaming in the late afternoon sun, a battle cry tearing from his throat. "Lysa! Hold on!"


    The ghouls turned at the sound, momentarily confused by the new threat. Aether exploded through his body and Val cut down the nearest ghoul with a single powerful stroke, his sword cleaving through the creature''s neck and sending its head tumbling to the ground. Around him, other rangers engaged with similar efficiency, each strike precise and lethal.


    From the opposite side of the clearing, Maren''s group hit the undead with equal force. Caught between two groups of skilled fighters the ghouls were cut down mercilessly.


    Val fought his way toward Lysa, dispatching two more ghouls with quick, efficient strikes. He reached her as she swayed on her feet, exhaustion finally catching up with her now that help had arrived.


    "Val," she gasped, recognition and relief flooding her face. "You made it."


    "Just in time, from the looks of it," he replied, taking up a protective position beside her as the remaining ghouls were dispatched by the rangers around them. "What happened? Why are you out here?"


    "Lian first" Lysa said and knelt down to check the young rangers pulse. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds. "Is he alive?"


    Before she could answer, Alfen approached, having ensured that all the undead in the clearing were truly down. "Report," he ordered crisply, though his tone softened as he took in Lysa''s wounded state.


    Lysa straightened, summoning her remaining strength. "Sir," she acknowledged, recognizing Alfen''s rank. "We were on patrol, scouting the approaches to Willow Creek. When we tried to return, we found the village surrounded by undead, not a massive force, but enough to form a cordon around the entire perimeter. We''ve been trying to find a gap, a way back inside, but they''re too well organized."


    "Two days," she replied, the exhaustion evident in her voice. "They hit us again the night after you left. We held, but barely. Captain Jorin sent our patrol out to check if there were more coming. By the time we tried to get back, they had the village completely encircled."


    Alfen absorbed this information, his scarred face thoughtful. Then he turned to Maren. "Get these rangers some water and tend to their wounds. Then prepare to move out."


    Alfen turned back to address the assembled rangers. "Jens and Kitra are informing the army company about the force in the ravine. I''m sending two more rangers back with an update on the situation at Willow Creek. The rest of us will continue north, find a weak point in the undead cordon, and break through to the village."


    He selected two rangers for the messenger duty, briefing them quickly on what to report to the army captain. Once they had departed, Alfen gathered the remaining rangers, along with Lysa and Val, for a council.


    "Ranger Lysa," he began, "you''ve observed this undead perimeter for two days. Where is it weakest? Where do we have the best chance of breaking through?"


    Lysa, revived somewhat by water and a brief rest, considered the question carefully. "The northeast section," she said after a moment. "There''s a small stream that runs past the village wall there. The ghouls have trouble crossing moving water, so they''ve stationed fewer of them on that approach. And the trees come closer to the wall on that side, offering more cover for an approach."


    Alfen nodded, satisfied with the assessment. "Then that''s our target. We''ll move through the forest to the northeast section of the perimeter, find a gap or create one, and make our way into the village."


    He turned to address the entire group. "We have perhaps an hour of daylight left. We move fast but quiet. Once we''re in the forest, we''ll have better cover, but also more chance of encountering patrols. Stay alert, stay together, and remember our priority is reaching Willow Creek intact."


    The rangers prepared to move out, checking weapons and equipment, securing canteens and ensuring that everything that might make noise was properly tied down. Val found himself standing next to Lysa, who was adjusting her sword belt with hands that trembled slightly from exhaustion.


    "How bad is it inside?" he asked quietly, the question that had been burning in his mind since he first saw her fighting for her life.


    Lysa met his gaze, her dark eyes shadowed with fatigue and worry. "Bad," she admitted. "They were holding when we left, but taking heavy casualties."


    "Help is on the way, the fourth army company marches behind us in full with healers and mages." Val stated.


    Lysa''s expression lightened somewhat at this news and she smiled for the first time since they had found her, Lysa smiled. "That might actually be enough to turn the tide," she said, hope evident in her voice. "If we can break through to the village and coordinate with the defenders inside..."


    "That''s the plan," Val agreed, checking his own equipment as Alfen signaled for them to form up. "First, we need to reach Willow Creek. Then we can worry about breaking the siege."


    Val checked his aether reserves, reaching inward to assess the state of his core. To his surprise, he found it nearly full, pulsing with a barely contained energy that seemed eager for release. His recent exertions should have depleted his reserves, but instead, they seemed to have grown stronger.


    Whatever the cause, the fullness of his core was a welcome discovery. If they encountered serious resistance at the undead perimeter, he would have ample reserves to enhance his strength and speed, potentially making the difference between success and failure.


    As they moved deeper into the forest, the rangers spread out into a looser formation, with scouts ranging ahead and to the flanks. Val found himself near the center of the group, alongside Lysa with Lian slung between them.


    Val crouched at the hilltop''s edge, his heart hammering against his ribs. Below, Willow Creek stood defiant, smoke curling from chimneys into the darkening sky. Militia figures scurried along makeshift barricades that had replaced the shattered palisade, their movements lethargic and pained. The village endured, but at a terrible cost.


    Between them and safety stretched a sea of undead. Hundreds of ghouls milled in loose formations, their rotting forms casting long shadows in the fading light. Corrupted bears and wolves prowled among them, and three massive ogres stood like grotesque sentinels around the perimeter.


    "There," Alfen whispered, pointing to a section of the northeastern wall where a stream cut through the undead lines. "The water''s forced them to thin their ranks. We hit hard and fast, create a corridor for the others to follow."


    Val''s core thrummed with power, fuller than he''d ever felt it. The aether practically sang through his veins, demanding release. "I''ll take point."


    Alfen nodded, recognizing the look in Val''s eyes. "Rangers, prepare to move on my signal. Toren, help with the wounded. Val breaks their line, we follow through the gap. No stopping until we''re inside those walls."


    Val drew his sword, the steel catching the last rays of sunlight. His muscles coiled, every sense heightened by the aether flooding his system. The world seemed to slow, crystallize into perfect clarity.


    "Now!"


    Val exploded down the hillside, aether surging through his limbs. The first ghoul barely had time to turn before his blade took its head. He spun through the gap, sword weaving a deadly pattern as he carved his way forward. Each strike flowed into the next, his enhanced strength turning glancing blows into devastating cuts.


    An undead wolf lunged for his throat. Val caught it mid-leap with an aether-powered kick that shattered its ribcage. He didn''t slow, couldn''t slow. The rangers needed a path, and he would carve it through this rotting army or die trying.


    One of the ogres noticed their charge, turning its massive bulk toward them with surprising speed. Val met its charge head-on, ducking under a swing that could have taken his head off and hamstringing the monster with a precise cut. As it stumbled, he leaped, driving his blade through its temple with all his enhanced strength. His body felt alive in a way he had never felt, instead of depleting, it felt like his core was filling.


    "Keep moving!" Alfen shouted behind him. Val caught glimpses of the rangers fighting their way through the corridor he''d created.


    They were halfway to the wall when the other ogres noticed. Val''s muscles screamed as he poured more aether into them, pushing beyond normal limits. His sword became a blur, splitting skulls and severing limbs as he held the line against the press of undead trying to cut off their escape.


    An arrow whistled past his ear, taking a ghoul in the eye. More arrows followed from the wall, the militia had spotted them. "Val!" a familiar voice shouted. "Get your ass up here!"


    Jorin stood atop the barricade, bow in hand, directing covering fire. Val backed toward the wall, still fighting. His blade caught a ghoul''s arm, redirecting its lunge into another undead.


    "Last group coming through!" Alfen called. Val risked a glance back, most of the rangers had made it to the wall. Time to go.


    He turned and ran, aether propelling him in great bounds toward the barricade. Behind him, the undead howled in frustration as their prey escaped. Val leaped, catching the top of the wall with one hand while his other still gripped his sword.


    Hands grabbed him, pulled him over. He landed in a crouch beside Jorin, immediately spinning to help cover the last rangers'' ascent.


    "Cutting it close," Jorin grunted, loosing another arrow into the mass of undead below.


    "Thought you might be getting bored without me," Val replied, his breath coming in hard gasps as the aether surge began to fade.


    The undead crashed against the barricade like a wave breaking on rocks. Arrows and spears rained down, pushing them back. After several minutes of fierce fighting, the assault slackened, the undead withdrawing to a safer distance.


    Val sagged against the wall, his muscles trembling from aether exhaustion. But they''d made it. They were inside.


    "Welcome back," Jorin said grimly, clasping Val''s shoulder.