In the foul-smelling sewers, a labyrinth of twisted pipes and channels crisscrossed in every direction. Anyone unfamiliar with the layout would be completely lost after just a few turns.
They had to endure not only the omnipresent toxic stench but also the many dangerous creatures lurking in the darkness.
Fortunately, both rogues and rangers were professions that excelled at stealth.
Hastings and Hales were brothers. People who knew them usually called them Blackie and Husky. The two normally pretended not to know each other, occasionally putting on a little show to scam newbies. They had even ripped off other crooks a few times.
This time, they had tried to swindle Ambrose, only to find that he was craftier than both of them combined. They had followed him into the sewers, but instead of finding their target, the brothers had stumbled into danger.
The filthy, dim sewer suddenly transformed into a beautiful, scenic garden. Even the pervasive stench vanished, replaced by the rich fragrance of flowers.
Blackie the rogue frowned. "Something's not right. How can there be a garden in the sewers of the City of Alchemy?"
Husky the ranger, however, said nonchalantly, "Who knows? With those alchemists, you can never be surprised by what they cook up."
Blackie had felt that something was off, but after hearing what Husky said, he immediately relaxed.
"You've got a point. This place is pretty nice. The flowers smell amazing."
Blackie took a few deep breaths, feeling his body and mind unwind. He didn't notice his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot. The two brothers had only been walking in the garden for a few minutes before they became like dazed zombies, capable only of gaping with drool trickling from their mouths.
At that moment, a goddess bathed in golden light appeared before them.
"Mortals, you have trespassed into the domain of a god."
The ethereal voice brought expressions of excitement to the brothers' vacant faces. They stared at the beautiful, radiant goddess and hurriedly knelt.
Blackie drooled as he said, "Beautiful goddess, may I ask which deity you are?"
"I am Mystra, the Goddess of Magic. You have been fortunate enough to find my garden. I can grant you one wish."
Husky wore a confused expression. "The Goddess of Magic? But... I'm a ranger..."
Blackie, however, could no longer wait. "Great goddess, I want... I want... I want you!"
In Blackie's eyes, this goddess of magic was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the perfect embodiment of all his fantasies. He had all but lost his reason and, heedless of any blasphemy, only wanted to unleash his innermost desires.
Husky was taken aback by his brother's crude and direct request. This was a goddess!
But to his surprise, the resplendent Goddess Mystra wasn't angry at all. Instead, she let out a sweet peal of laughter.
"You have good taste, mortal. I will grant your wish."
The goddess's reply sent Blackie into a state of ecstasy. He scrambled forward and began to kiss her ravenously.
Husky watched with envy, wondering if he should make the same wish. But before he could, he felt a powerful force grab him from the side and pull him away.
Huskey had no time to react. His head spun, and the scene before him changed dramatically.
The place of fragrant flowers and singing birds had once again become the filthy, stinking sewer. Suddenly, several burly men wearing leaves and antlered helms appeared beside him.
One of the dark-skinned men gripped Husky's arm and warned, "Don't move. The hag's illusion is too powerful. We've only barely managed to ward it off. If you rush out there again, we won't be able to save you."
Husky, still reeling from the illusion, hadn't yet grasped what was happening. He mumbled, "Rush out? Wait, where's my brother?!"
He looked back toward where he had been standing and was shocked to find he was now twenty or thirty meters away from Blackie. What shocked him even more was the sight of his brother holding an ugly old crone covered in venomous sores, kissing her wildly.
"Blergh!"
Whether it was a side effect of the illusion or because he had witnessed something beyond his tolerance, Husky vomited until he was dizzy. It was a long while before he could catch his breath.
He looked back at his pitiful brother. Blackie was lying blissfully in the arms of that hideous monster, his face and body covered in nauseating filth, yet his expression was one of pure happiness. To make matters worse, the hag and Blackie were lying on a pile of rotting, mutated rats, covered in their toxic pus.
"Bleeergh~"
Husky couldn't hold it back and vomited again.
Turning to the muscular, leaf-clad men beside him, Husky was suddenly filled with gratitude. If it weren't for them, he would have likely suffered the same despairing torment.
After a dozen thank-yous, he asked, "Are you druids?"
The dark-skinned man who had grabbed him replied, "I'm Van Jones. We are druids from the Golden Vine Tribe. We were also inadvertently trapped in the hag's illusion and can't escape."
Husky looked around. There were six people dressed as druids in total, four men and two women. Three of them were gathered in a circle, murmuring incantations, apparently maintaining some kind of magical ritual.
Van Jones continued to explain, "We can only use the Thorn Ritual to ward off the illusion's influence. But even with us taking turns, we can't hold on much longer."
Only then did Husky notice that all the druids looked gaunt and exhausted, as if they hadn't slept in days.
"So what do we do?" Husky asked anxiously.
He wanted to save his brother, but he knew he couldn't do it on his own.
"We don't know. We're just holding on for a sliver of hope."
Van Jones's tone was one of resignation. They couldn't completely break the hag's illusion. They had tried to attack the hag several times, but she was elusive. Neither summoning beasts nor using nature magic could harm her.
Meanwhile, the illusion was continuously draining the druids' strength. The moment the Thorn Ritual stopped, everyone would be ensnared by the hag once more.
They had saved Husky out of the goodness inherent in druids, and also in the hope that he might bring a turning point.
But now, it seemed this ranger had no way to break the stalemate either.
Van Jones sighed. "Silvanus above, perhaps this is when our souls are meant to return to the woodlands."
But Husky suddenly remembered Ambrose and Naomi from the tavern. "Do you have another tribe member, a young female druid with short, blond hair?"
Van Jones was surprised. "You know Naomi?"
"Not really, but I've seen her. She went to find help. They should have reached the sewers by now. If we can just hold on a little longer, we might be saved." Husky said this not only to comfort Van Jones but also himself. All thoughts of ripping someone off were gone. He just wanted Ambrose to show up and deal with this hag.
Van Jones, however, was shocked. "Naomi came back? That child... is she mad? She's throwing away the sacrifice we all made!"
Husky said urgently, "Don't be so pessimistic! The help she brought should be very powerful. He's undead, so he's perfectly suited for an environment like the sewers. He can definitely handle this hag!"
Van Jones suddenly grabbed Husky by the collar, his voice rising in disbelief. "What did you say? Undead?!"