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Fantasy Clinic: Chronicles of a 3rd-Rate Doctor-Chapter 32: The Pact-Bound Path
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Chapter 32 - The Pact-Bound Path
The capital's spires clawed at the sky in the distance, black against the rising dawn.
But the road was still long—and cursed.
Their group reached Hollowbridge, an old checkpoint town once used to process trade between regions. Now, the gates were locked with vines, the buildings asleep, the bell tower crooked like a snapped spine.
"No smoke. No lights. Either they're hiding, or—" Sylas paused, drawing his blade.
"—or they're already gone," Veyra finished, hand on hilt.
Elric stared ahead, eyes narrowing.
"They're here. I can feel them."
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Keera's bow was already drawn. "Possessed?"
"No," Elric murmured. "Worse. Waiting."
---
They entered slowly.
Lira joked, "Five warriors and not a single torch. This is either brave or dumb."
"Why not both?" Keera offered.
The humor died quickly.
Inside the tavern, time had frozen.
Plates were full. Coins still stacked on tables. A violin rested mid-song on the stage, the bow in mid-air, caught between the strings like it had been petrified mid-note.
"Memory magic," Sylas muttered.
Elric nodded. "The Rootwalker's playing with time. Feeding off memory to shape the present."
A low growl echoed behind the bar.
They turned.
From the cellar hatch, a figure emerged—tall, in bark-wrapped armor, face covered by a wooden mask carved with tears.
"The Pact-Bearer returns," it hissed, voice like creaking branches. "But the crown is not his. Not yet."
---
The fight began without warning.
The creature lunged, arms growing into thorny whips. Veyra charged first, slashing in a blur. The beast shrugged off her strikes, vines regenerated instantly.
Keera fired a flaming arrow—it hit the mask, cracking it.
Lira tossed a bottle from her belt. "Catch!"
Elric caught it and smashed it on the floor—alchemical fire spread like oil lightning.
The creature screamed, vines flailing. Sylas stabbed from behind, severing one limb—but it grew back twisted and longer.
"Cut the core!" Elric shouted. "The mask!"
He lunged, the sigil on his wrist burning. The air shimmered as his palm touched the creature's chest—through bark, through memory, into truth.
A pulse burst from his hand.
The mask shattered.
The creature froze... then collapsed, turning into a cluster of mushrooms and petals.
---
They stood in the silence, panting.
"This was a message," Sylas said.
"They were testing us," Veyra added.
"No," Elric said. "They were remembering us. The Rootwalker's not just growing—it's learning who we are."
Keera kicked the pile of remains. "Then let's teach it how we end things."
---
That night, by the campfire outside Hollowbridge, Elric finally spoke to Lira alone.
"The Pact," he said. "It's deeper than you think. My father signed it. King Taran enforced it. I... was born into it."
Lira frowned. "You're saying you're bound to it by blood?"
Elric looked at the flames.
"I'm saying if I don't break it, it'll turn me into him."
---
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