"Fucking amateurs," Jack repeated. His words were laced with spectral venom.
He circled the locomotive. Several times. "They just had to butcher a ritual like this. Now I have to deal with the fallout."
He tried to figure out the best course of action. Should he try to fix the runes? Should he try to nullify the curse by creating counter ritual? Or should he just outright destroy the damn thing?
He was still trying to find out the best way, when he heard it. The distinct sound of approaching horses and carriage wheels. To this abandoned place that hadn't been visited by anyone for decades.
"Shit," he hissed.
It must have been Murphy's Law in play. Definitely. If there was a chance for this situation to get even more complicated, it would.
Why couldn't these people have picked any other night?
He phased away from the cursed locomotive. His invisible form moved towards the source of the noise. He needed to see who was coming. And what their intentions were.
Two carriages rolled into the dilapidated town square. Their lanterns were casting long, dancing shadows across the crumbling buildings.
Ten figures dismounted. Their voices echoed in the unnatural stillness.
Jack narrowed his eyes behind his spectral mask. Definitely not adventurers. Not the hardened, grizzled types he'd seen in Ironpile Town.
These people were… softer. Neater. Weaker.
Seven men and three women. A quick scan revealed that at least three of them were noble kids. Or youngsters cosplaying as rich folks. The others were… mercenaries. No. More like bodyguards.
He focused his senses. He eavesdropped on their conversations as they began setting up camp. It didn't take long to get a read on the situation.
"Zach, are you sure it's here?" A woman's voice called out. It was laced with a hint of impatience. "And be careful with that map. Don't drop it."
"Relax, Ester." A younger voice replied. It sounded more excited than reassuring. "It's safe with me. Imagine, a real treasure! In this dump!"
Treasure? Here? Yeah, right. Jack snorted dismissively.
He watched as they bickered and organized, his spectral brow furrowing further. They were splitting into two groups.
The supposed 'nobles' were setting up a more comfortable camp near the old well. The others, the hired help, were patrolling the perimeter.
"I still think this is madness, Zach!" Ester, the impatient noble girl, whined. "Whitecoal? It's been abandoned for decades. There's nothing here but dust. Are you sure you read the map right?" She continued as she was swirling a crystal goblet of wine.
Wine? In a crystal goblet? During such travel? The absurdity of her action made Jack completely speechless.
"Of course!" Zach replied. This smug-looking young man puffed out his chest. "We know the map is authentic. We had it verified by a scholar in Lonestone. I've asked an expert to interpret the map. It was really Whitecoal. This town is sitting on a fortune. Just waiting for us to claim it."
Another noble, slightly older, chuckled. "Always the optimist, eh, Zach? Still, I wouldn't mind a bit of gold to line my pockets. Keeps the loan sharks away."
Jack floated closer. Intrigued by their sheer cluelessness. Hadn't they done their research? Fortune and Whitecoal? Misfortune and Whitecoal were more fitting.
He sighed. These fools wouldn't find gold. They'd find disappointment. Maybe a few old bones. Or curse and death.
He overheard the leader of the bodyguards, talking quietly with one of the female guards.
"Keep a sharp eye, Judith. This place gives me the creeps. More than just bandits to worry about here."
Judith nodded. Her hands were resting on the hilt of her sword and double-barreled hand gun. "I agree. The air feels… heavy. I don't like this place." She shivered slightly, despite the warm evening air.
The other female bodyguard joined them.
"How is it Lydia?" The leader asked.
"I scouted the perimeter. No tracks of anything that screams 'danger' but… I would like it better if we leave this place quickly. Something feels wrong here."
The leader frowned. "Great. Just what we needed. Unidentified danger."
Jack, invisible and unheard, felt a stirring of amusement. They were perceptive, these guards. They could sense the wrongness of Whitecoal.
"Do we have to be here, Hugo? This journey is stupid." Lydia grumbled.
Hugo, the leader, sighed. "Look, just stay alert. We need to keep these nobles safe, no matter how idiotic their quest."
Jack chuckled silently. 'Idiotic' was putting it mildly. He watched as Hugo visibly tried to calm the two guards up.
After observing for a while longer, Jack had managed to identify these newcomers.
Zach, the youngest kid with all bravado and misplaced confidence; Ester, the spoiled brat who probably got everything she ever wanted; and Jerome, the perpetually broke hanger-on.
The bodyguards were a bit harder to identify. Hugo, the stoic and competent-looking leader. Judith and Lydia, the two female guards, both sharp-eyed and alert. These three seemed the strongest among the group. The others were... not important. Just grunts.
He also managed to piece together their story. Zach, the smug-looking dumbass, had gotten his hands on a treasure map. It promised untold riches hidden somewhere in Whitecoal.
The promise of adventure had lured Zach and his two buddies. Ester's parents, probably tired of her whining, let her go. But, they had insisted on a security detail fit for a royal procession. Hence, the bodyguards.
They planned to camp for the night and start the treasure hunt in the morning.
Jack wanted to scream.
He needed to deal with the cursed locomotive now. Before it caused any more problems. But these dimwits were about to be caught in the crossfire.
He debated his options. Should he warn them? Convince them to leave? No. They were trespassers, greedy and foolish. Should he even care?
He was about to turn away. Ready to let them face the music. But he thought of the bodyguards. They were just doing their job. They didn't deserve more bloodshed.
Before he could come to a decision..., the tranquility of the night was suddenly shattered.
A piercing screech of metal against metal ripped through the air. The ground trembled.
Jack looked at the cursed locomotive at the distance. Its broken headlight flickered on, glowing brighter than the moonlight.
The cursed locomotive, dormant until now, was awakening.
Jack watched in disbelief as the rusted machine began to transform. Plates of rusty metal shifted and groaned. Pistons hissed. And the chimney belched out a cloud of black smoke.
A piercing whistle shrieked from its smokestacks. It was a sound that made Jack grit his invisible spectral teeth.
The transformed locomotive was ugly. It was a grotesque mockery of a steampunk mecha. Jagged edges. Mismatched parts. An overall sense of imbalance. They gave it a truly ugly yet terrifying look.
The transformation was loud. Impossible to ignore.
The campers were instantly scrambling for weapons.
Hugo roared orders. His voice was barely audible over the noisy sound of the transforming locomotive.
"Swords! Shields! Form a defensive line!"
Zach, Jerome, and Ester looked like startled rabbits caught in headlights. Their adventure quickly morphed from a treasure hunt to a fight for survival.
"What in God's name…!" Zach stammered, his bravado vanishing as he clutched the 'treasure map' to his chest.
Ester was holding on her scream. Jerome just stared, his face pale and slack-jawed.
The locomotive was now a hulking gorilla-like metal monstrosity. Its single, cyclopean headlight seemed to burn with an unholy glow.
It lurched forward. Its steam-powered limbs left the rusted tracks and hit the dirt ground. It sent tremors through the ground.
It was lumbering, but fast. And it was barreling straight towards the camp.
Jack flew higher and watched the chaotic scene unfold below. He wanted to intervene. To teleport the nobles back to whatever gilded cage they crawled out of.
But he didn't have that power. He couldn't think of anything that would allow him to win against the locomotive monster in his specter form.
He tried to put the locomotive-mecha to illusion, with [Mysterious Dream] and [Mysterious Lullaby]. And even with the addition of [Alraune's Myriad Aromas]. It didn't work. It didn't even make the thing flinch.
The bodyguards, to their credit, were holding their own. They formed a makeshift shield wall. Their swords glinting in the moonlight as they braced for the inevitable impact.
The first volley of gunshots bounced harmlessly off the locomotive's thick armor plating.
The mechanical monster slammed into the shield wall with earth-shattering force. Men screamed, and metal buckled. The bodyguards were thrown back like rag dolls. Scattered across the campsite.
Invisible Jack tried to use [Mysterious Control] to trip the locomotive-mecha. Failed. The machine was too strong. And surprisingly balanced.
Hugo was bruised and battered. But he roared and charged the locomotive courageously. His sword struck the joints of the monstrous thing. It produced sparks but nothing else.
Judith and Lydia, the female bodyguards, were also attacking. Their blades weaving a deadly dance. But their attacks were futile. The locomotive was too big, too strong.
Its mechanical limbs lashed out, crushing tents and sending debris flying. One of the guards was swatted aside like an insect, his body landing with a sickening thud.
Zach, Jerome, and Ester cowered behind the overturned carriages, their faces pale with terror. Their dreams of treasure had turned into a nightmare.
Jack weighed his options. He couldn't let these people die. He wasn't a hero, not really. But he wasn't heartless either.
Besides, their deaths would just add more negative energy to this already cursed town, making his job even harder.