Kael turned away from the lifeless Harrowmoth, his eyes scanning the dim interior of the cave one last time. The creature had fallen with ease, but he knew better than to grow complacent. Fighting an entire den of Harrowmoths, even with his enhanced abilities, would be tantamount to suicide. These creatures may not have been magical, but their numbers and sheer savagery would overwhelm him in an instant. No, he needed a different approach—one that required subtlety, precision, and the quiet lethality of poison.

  His time with the guilds had taught him many things, not the least of which was the importance of preparation. Harrowmoths, despite their size and formidable appearance, were beasts, not supernatural beings. And like any creature of flesh and bone, they could be brought low by poison. The right mixture of toxins would incapacitate them, and Kael knew just the ingredients to make it potent enough to work swiftly.

  Kael moved swiftly, retracing his steps through the winding corridors of the cave, his boots silent against the cold stone. His mind was already a few steps ahead, calculating which plants he needed and how best to approach this task. He reached the mouth of the cave, the last stretch before the thick swamp air hit him.

  The pungent, earthy scent of the swamp was unmistakable. It was a sharp contrast to the damp, sterile air of the cave, and Kael took a deep breath as the familiar odor filled his senses. Stepping out into the misty gloom, he paused for a moment, scanning the landscape around him. The swamp was a labyrinth of twisted trees, rotting underbrush, and thick, sluggish waters. It was here that Kael would find what he needed.

  Without wasting time, Kael began moving with purpose, his eyes narrowing as he searched for the rare plants he needed for his deadly concoction. He knew the swamps dark, humid corners often hid the very toxins he sought. The sharp leaves of the Deadly Nightshade grew near the water’s edge, their deep purple berries glistening in the murky light. Kael plucked them with care, mindful of the potent poison that lay within.

  A little further, nestled between the moss-covered stones, he spotted the Hemlock, its pale, delicate flowers swaying gently in the swamp’s ever-present breeze. He knelt to gather a few stems, noting how the plant's bitter scent lingered on the air.

  His search continued as he moved deeper into the swamp, his boots splashing softly in the shallow pools. In a damp hollow, hidden beneath a layer of moss, Kael found what he was looking for: Oleander. The plant’s toxic blossoms were perfect for adding a slow, lingering effect to the poison. He knew this blend of plants would work wonders—potent enough to incapacitate the Harrowmoths quickly.

  Kael gathered the last of the ingredients and straightened, a sense of satisfaction settling over him. With these, he could craft a poison that would do the work for him. No need for a prolonged fight. Just a swift and lethal strike. With his bounty in hand, Kael made his way back to the caves entrance.

  Kael approached the fire pit the mercenaries had abandoned. He paused for a moment, the quiet of the swamp surrounding him, before extending his hand toward the burned wood. With three fingers curled in a specific manner, he spoke the word, *“Jarla.”* The syllable rang out softly, and at his command, the embers flared back to life, the flames dancing higher, crackling with renewed vigor.

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  He reached into his satchel, the fabric worn from years of use, and pulled out a small wooden box. Inside, neatly arranged, were several vials, each containing a dark liquid, as well as a metal cup that had seen its fair share of use. He set the cup near the fire and filled it with water from the swamp, the liquid murky and thick with the scent of earth and decay.

  Next, Kael took the plants from his pack: the **Deadly Nightshade**, **Hemlock**, and **Oleander**. He crushed the stems and leaves between his fingers, their potent toxins releasing into the air with a faint, acrid odor. Without hesitation, he tossed the crushed remnants into the cup of swamp water. The plants floated, their vibrant colors swirling into the water as the mixture began to darken almost immediately.

  Kael placed the cup carefully in the flames, watching as the liquid within it slowly began to bubble and churn. The heat from the fire quickened the process, and soon the mixture had turned a pitch-black hue, thick and viscous, the fluids of the plants combining into a deadly concoction.

  He watched the potion carefully, stirring it occasionally with a stick, his thoughts focused on the task at hand. The swamp’s silence was broken only by the faint crackle of the fire and the occasional splash from the bog’s murky waters.

  Once the mixture had cooled enough, Kael doused the flames, the air now thick with the acrid smell of the poison. He carefully retrieved the cup, the edges of the metal warm but manageable in his hand. The mixture had thickened considerably, a dark sludge that clung to the sides of the cup like tar. Kael dipped his fingers into the cup and smeared the viscous fluid onto the edge of his blade, coating it evenly. The sword gleamed in the firelight, now as much a tool for death as it had ever been.

  He sealed the remaining portion of the mixture in one of the small vials, ensuring it was tightly corked to preserve its potency. With the sword in one hand and the vial in his belt, Kael stood and surveyed the area.

  Prepared, and with a calm, focused resolve settling over him, he returned to the cave. His footsteps were steady and purposeful as he stepped back into the darkness, torch in one hand, poisoned blade in the other.

  Kael stepped cautiously into the dimly lit cavern, the faint glow of his torch casting flickering shadows on the jagged stone walls. He could feel the weight of the silence around him, broken only by the distant echo of his own footfalls. However, it was the unmistakable sound of large wings flapping—slow, methodical, yet undeniably present—that caught his attention. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

  His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, the leather-bound handle familiar and comforting in his calloused palm. The flame of his torch danced in his other hand, casting erratic shadows on the cavern’s walls as he crept deeper.

  Suddenly, the cavern’s stillness was shattered by a thunderous roar as the Harrowmoth emerged from the darkness. its wings stretched wide, casting a fearsome silhouette as it lunged toward him with terrifying speed. The creature’s eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, its talons scraping against the stone as it aimed to rip into Kael with its razor-sharp claws.

  Kael’s reflexes kicked in without hesitation. In a fluid motion, he ducked low, feeling the wind rush past him as the beast’s claws narrowly missed. With a practiced swipe, he swung his blade upward, the edge catching the Harrowmoth’s side, tearing through its thick, leathery hide. Blood spurted from the wound, dark and viscous, staining the cave floor as the beast let out a howl of pain.

  The Harrowmoth staggered back, but its fury was far from spent. Its massive wings flapped violently, stirring the air into a frenzy. It swooped again, claws outstretched, aiming for Kael’s throat. But Kael was faster. With a swift, calculated motion, he dipped under its attack, his blade coming up in a swift arc to slash at the underside of the beast's abdomen. The Harrowmoth screeched in agony, its wings flapping erratically as it plummeted to the ground, writhing in pain.

  Kael stood over the creature, watching as it struggled to regain its footing. The poison he had carefully laced his blade with was working faster than he had hoped. The three toxins—each potent in its own right—were coursing through the beast's veins, crippling it from within. Its movements became slower, more erratic, as it tried to stand but found its strength failing.

  With a swift, determined motion, Kael approached the downed creature. The Harrowmoth hissed, its eyes narrowed in defiance, but it was clear that it had no fight left to give. Without hesitation, Kael drove his blade deep into the creature’s chest, the steel cutting through the soft, pulsing organs beneath its ribcage. The beast’s body spasmed violently, its wings twitching one final time before falling limp.

  Kael pulled his blade free, the sickening sound of flesh and bone parting echoing through the cave. He stepped back, checking the weapon, the thick coating of poison still clung to the steel.