The sulfur smell punched Jack in the face. He looked at the jumbled mess of broken wood that blocked the south part of the place.
Both he and Johnny had been back in their visible forms. Spectral, but visible.
"There's a tunnel behind that blockade," Jack deduced.
He phased through the debris blocking the south shaft. Johnny was right behind him. The tunnel narrowed quickly.
It felt wrong, like they were crawling into the guts of some beast. The air hung thick and heavy, tasting of iron and something far more sinister.
"Careful," Jack muttered. Although Johnny couldn't really trip in his current ghost state.
The tunnel opened into a chamber. It wasn't natural. Stone blocks, crudely cut, formed the walls. The place reeked of dark magic. In the center stood seven statues. Werewolves. Each one was frozen in a different pose of savage ferocity.
"Holy hell!" Johnny breathed. His ghostly eyes went wide.
Jack scanned the statues. His ethereal senses were tingling. Five of them felt… dull. Just stone.
The other two, though, hummed with a fiendish energy. A palpable darkness radiated from them. It seemed to make the air shimmer in ferocity.
"Those two," Jack said, pointing to the energized statues. "Those are the problem."
He circled the chamber. His ghostly form gliding silently. Near the five inert statues, he saw it. Footprints in the dust. Not animal tracks. Boot prints. And on the statues themselves, faint smudges. Handprints. Human handprints.
"Damn it!" Jack cursed under his breath.
He pieced it together. Five miners... or whoever else exploring the mines. They had found this place. They had touched the cursed statues. And they had become... something else.
"Johnny!" Jack said, his voice grim. "The werewolves that killed you... They might be miners. They seemed to be here, touched five of these statues, and got cursed. They became those werewolves you saw."
Johnny's jaw dropped. "Those poor bastards…"
Jack ignored the sympathy. He moved towards one of the statues crackling with dark energy. He reached out. His spectral hand hovered just above the cold stone.
He felt a pull. A dark hunger seemed emanating from the statue. He pushed through it. His hand made contact.
A jolt of energy surged through him. Not pain, exactly. More like… input. Overwhelming, chaotic input. Then, his internal system chimed. System Notification appeared before his eyes.
[OBJECT OF POWER DISCOVERED!]
[NOT ENOUGH POWER INTENSITY. ABSORBED AND CONDENSED INTO ARTIFACT SEED.]
What the hell? An artifact seed?
He didn't have time to ponder it. He moved to the second statue that pulsed with the same dark energy. He touched it. Same sensation. Same result.
[OBJECT OF POWER DISCOVERED!]
[NOT ENOUGH POWER INTENSITY. ABSORBED AND CONDENSED INTO ARTIFACT SEED.]
Two artifact seeds? How many did it take to make a complete artifact? Last time, just one statue... from the Cult of Purity, was enough to condense an artifact, his draugr's [Grim Reaper Scythe].
But thinking back, in Highcliff sewers, just that one statue was enough to make hundreds of rats mutated. Each of the werewolf statue here seemed to only affect one person. The level of power was indeed different.
Johnny, meanwhile, was staring at him. Confusion was etched on his ghostly face. "What'd you just do, Jack? I saw some kinda light…"
"I… well... nullified them," Jack said, improvising. "I have this kind of power. I can neutralize cursed objects. Like these statues."
Technically, it was not a lie. He just hadn't mentioned the whole 'artifact seed' bit.
"So… the statues? Not dangerous anymore?" Johnny asked. Relief washed over his features.
"The statues? No. But the miners who touched them? They're still out there. And they're turned into bloodthirsty werewolves. We need to find them."
He paused, thinking. They needed a plan and quick. Because these miners would be tearing the town apart.
"They were normal guys. Miner works. Can you use that power of yours to take their curse?" asked Johnny.
"I don't know. I never tried it on living beings." Jack replied honestly.
"Try it on them, then. It will be good if they're back to normal."
Jack looked at Johnny with surprise. How come this guy's karma neutral? He was basically a saint. Those guys were the one who killed him. But all he wanted was to save them.
Jack was not that kind. All he cared about was stopping a problem before it escalated. Before more innocent people got hurt. He never forgot the incident at the museum.
"Alright," Jack said. "Let's find these werewolves. I'll try to erase the curse with my power. But if it fails, we're not trying to save them anymore. We're putting them down. Understood?"
Johnny looked conflicted. But he nodded slowly. "Understood."
"Good. Now, let's move out of this mine. The miners and the mine owner's thugs were very close to physical brawls when I entered the mine."
"Really? Let's hurry up!" Johnny said in panic. "It should be close to twin full moons tonight. If the brawls draw blood, and those werewolves were out there..."
Jack looked at Johnny with surprise again. This plain guy was truly not that simple. He truly couldn't judge the book only by its cover.
Jack's mind raced. No one was in the mine at this time. But outside, the miners on strike were facing the obstinate owner and his supporters. Chaotic riot might have happened. With five werewolves mixed into the clash... it could indeed be disastrous.
"Lead the way!" He commanded Johnny.
...
Johnny and Jack phased right through the mine wall. They popped out into the thick of it.
Chaos.
It was exactly as Jack had predicted. Miners and thugs were going at it hammer and tongs. The thugs, decked out in padded vests and wielding clubs, had the upper hand. But the miners, fueled by rage and sheer numbers, weren't backing down.
"That fat bastard over there! That's Grando, the owner," Johnny grunted. He pointed his spectral finger towards a man. A sweating, red-faced man yelling orders.
"And those are his rent-a-thugs. The miners are the ones with the pickaxes." Johnny continued.
Jack scanned the scene. He spotted them instantly. Four werewolves still in their human guise. They were easily spotted. They ripped and tore through the thugs with their bare hands after all.
Blood sprayed. Bones crunched. The four were focused on the thugs. Fighting with brutality. But Jack could see the rage and ferocity simmering beneath the surface. It was threatening to spill over. They were clearly trying to get to Grando.
Suddenly, a new player entered the fray. A tall, gaunt figure stepped forward.
"That's Escroll. Grando's uncle," Johnny whispered. His ghostly voice was laced with something that sounded like fear.
Escroll raised his hands. He chanted in a low, guttural voice. And... two hulking bears materialized out of thin air. They were roaring and slashing at the werewolves in human form.
The four werewolves no longer hid their identities. They howled and transformed quickly into their ugly half-wolf form.
People nearby, thugs and miners both, immediately scrambled away. Two huge bears and four werewolves. This was obviously far above their pay grade.
Jack frowned, unexpressed in his spectral faceless form. Where was the fifth werewolf?
The bears and the wolves were still battling. The bears were tougher and stronger. But the werewolves were faster and more brutal. They dodged the bears' clumsy swipes and retaliated with savage bites and claw attacks. The tide was turning again.
Then, it happened. The last werewolf, larger and more ferocious than the others, suddenly leaped down from a tall roof nearby. He moved with terrifying speed, directly towards Grando.
"Zeker!" Johnny exclaimed, recognizing the person despite his werewolf form.
Zeker slammed into Grando, knocking him to the ground. Before anyone could react, Zeker's claws ripped across Grando's chest. Grando screamed. Clutching at the bloody gashes.
Escroll didn't seem to care. He just sneered at his nephew's misfortune.
"Pathetic," he spat. And then, he started to change.
His bones cracked and shifted. His muscles bulged. And, thick fur sprouted across his skin. In seconds, he transformed into a massive, snarling werebear.
Escroll, in his werebear form, roared. He charged at Zeker. Ignoring his nephew, summoned bears, and the four other werewolves.
Grando was bleeding out on the ground. He scrabbled at his coat. With a final, desperate effort, he pulled out a rolled-up parchment.
It looked ancient. It was covered in strange symbols. Gritting his teeth, he tore it in half. Screaming a word that sounded like gibberish.
The effect was instantaneous. The thugs had ceased fire with the miners. They were all trying to get away from the werewolves and bears. But, all of the thugs suddenly stiffened.
In just seconds, they transformed. Their eyes turned reptilian. Their skin hardened and turned scaly. Sharp claws erupted from their fingertips.
They roared. It was a sound that was not human. They transformed into demonic lizardmen. And charged back into the fight. Targeting the helpless miners.
Jack swore. This was getting out of control fast. He had to do something. Now.
"Johnny, stay close," Jack ordered.
He focused his spectral energy. He excluded Johnny and the normal miners.
Then, he unleashed the full force of his nightmare. He drew on the deepest fears and anxieties of everyone in the battle zone.
He painted vivid images of their worst terrors in their minds. He crafted monstrous shadows and grotesque figures. All were designed to break their sanity.
The werewolves, the lizardmen, even Escroll in his werebear form, all faltered. They were trapped in their own personal hells. They were paralyzed by fear.
The normal miners used the opportunity to scatter away. The bizarre transformation of their comrades and the thugs were already nightmares for them.
Jack amplified the terror with a cacophony of horrifying sounds. He used his Banshee's Requiem to bombard his targets. With agonizing screams. Demonic whispers. The chilling sound of bones breaking. And unsettling orchestra from hell.
Chaos descended into utter pandemonium. Some of the lizardmen collapsed, gibbering in fear. The werewolves howled in agony. Escroll thrashed wildly. Tearing at his own fur.
Jack knew he couldn't hold it forever. His powers were draining rapidly. He needed to end this. Quickly.