Chester could barely register the notification before the backdrop turned into darkness. His mind turned into a haze, stripping him of any logic or reason as everything shifted into fearful patterns and horrible imagery.

He tried to gather himself, trying to remember who he was and what he was doing. One deep breath, two deep breaths. But Chester couldn't fight the terror welling up within him as nightmarish figures began to move toward him. Long, winding legs. Uncanny faces that distorted and moved. He would've been greatly unnerved by the sight even at full mental capacity. The term 'paralyzed with fear' couldn't be any more fitting at this moment

Chester couldn't tell if he was still sitting upright on the table anymore, unable to distinguish between reality and imagination. Intense nausea and mind fog rendered him powerless. His arms and legs felt like they were glued in place. The eldritch shadow monsters began crawling all over his body, touching him and pulling away at his clothes. He moaned pitifully while trying to ward off the monsters.

'IT'S A HALLUCINATION!'

He regained control of his body, although his mental faculties were still going haywire. The illusionist slammed his fists down on the floor, dispelling many of the shadows. His surroundings were still nightmarish, but the burden on his body was alleviated the longer he stayed up, and he could hear a hissing noise that sounded distinctly like voices the more he focused on them. Chester managed to get himself in an upright position before fighting down another wave of nausea as he stared at the moving corpse of the succubus woman he killed not too long ago.

The idea that it shouldn't be possible barely registered in his thoughts. All he could focus on was the grisly details before him.

It moved jerkily, and he couldn't rip his eyes away from the curtain of dried blood all over their upper body. The smell of death wafted through the air and struck his nose, making him swallow down the bile coming up his throat.

He had done as much as he could to prevent remembering the details of the battle in Welton. He went to sleep with the help of his Dream spell nearly every night, giving him complete control of his subconscious mind during rest. The illusionist still couldn't forget every detail of the life he took. The succubus corpse immediately acted hostile, pouncing upon him like a wild animal.

Chester stepped backward, narrowly avoiding her claws and fumbling for the Attainium on his back. He didn't care if it was a hallucination. Whatever it was, he needed to fight.

Sparks flew as he parried and deflected the strikes. They all felt real, making his bones creak in response to the force the dead woman managed to muster. That only immersed him in the nightmare even more. Her lithe limbs blurred, attacking with rapid ferocity. Despite wielding a flail, his strikes bounced off the vengeful spirit. The shadow monsters around them were beginning to retreat, transforming into less grotesque figures.

Some still attempted to attack him, But Chester easily knocked them away. The most pressing matter at hand was the rampaging corpse hellbent on revenge. Her dull, lifeless eyes contrasted with the visage of pure, apoplectic rage.

"YOU WON'T TAKE MY FAMILY AWAY!" She roared.

Chester paused upon hearing the succubus' voice. It was distinctly male, and more importantly, the fog in his mind was beginning to clear. He deconstructed the nightmarish visions he was seeing and they slowly began to fade away.

The illusionist's vision returned to normal, and he was back in the bar. It looked as though a hurricane blew through the area; destroyed tables, unconscious customers, and Damien stood before him. The other residents in the tavern hugged the wall tightly, unwilling to be caught in the radius of Chester's iridescent chain attacks.

Poison Resistance has reached level 3.

Mental Resistance has reached level 2.

"Damien! Snap out of it!" He said, seeing that the boy's eyes were unfocused. His pupils had a reddish tint, and the illusionist inwardly groaned upon identifying it. The vampire teen swung his sword, and Chester readied himself before catching the weapon with his chain, fighting against the full strength of the Shadow Knight. Shortening the distance, Chester reared his head back and headbutted his companion in the nose. He hoped it was enough to knock some sense into the rampaging warrior.

It was not the wisest course of action.

'Motherfucker! This guy's head is like a bowling ball!'

The illusionist blinked stars from his eyes and he was unable defend to himself against a vicious kick to the groin. Damien growled in an animalistic manner, sending his partner up in the air from the sheer force of his kick and crashing into the floor.

Chester's mind short-circuited before going blank. The pain was too much to bear, and he could hardly restrain his rage after being subject to such a painful attack.

"Mana Infusion."

If Damien wouldn't listen to reason, the illusionist would beat it into him.

"SHADOW SMITE!"

He threw himself off to the side, and the screams of the tavern residents were drowned out by the subsequent explosion. Part of the tavern had collapsed from the attack. Chester transformed his chain into a hammer, aiming to subdue his partner before things got out of hand. Deep down, he also wanted some revenge for the groin kick.

The customers who were there to enjoy a good meal had a front-row ticket to a battle for the ages. The only caveat, however, was that there were no refunds. Although the combat was restrained mainly between the two powerhouses, the ranges of their attack prevented anyone from making a mad dash to the entrance, which was where their fight had moved to.

One of the patrons narrowly avoided Chester as he was blasted back into the wall. After a brief pause in the conflict, one of them ran for the door. Their attempt would've succeeded had it not been for the massive canine jumping down from the newly-formed hole in the building, using the hapless customer as a trampoline to land beside the illusionist.

"Hey! Max! Help me put your owner down, will you?"

It growled but didn't bite the man. The shadowy canine seemed to be capable of independent thought, acknowledging that his master wasn't in his right mind, and turned to face the teenager who pounced on them with mindless rage.

They split up in two different directions, avoiding the downward slash that tore the flooring of the bar asunder. Despite being barely capable of rational thought, the boy possessed enough power to give Chester trouble and he racked his brain to figure out a method of taking Damien out without severely wounding him. He glanced at the small hunk of spiked metal attached to his waist before shaking his head violently.

'Using the striking head is a big no-no. What other way can I-? That's IT!'

With a spark of genius, he began his strategy. It required perfect positioning and the illusionist began to work his magic to execute his plan.

"Invisibility. Improved Minor Illusion." He cast both spells in quick succession, vanishing into obscurity as Damien chased a mirage of himself around the tavern. Chester did his best to avoid the customers, but his priority was making sure the boy's rampage was quelled. Keeping himself ready, the illusionist bent his legs while waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

'NOW!'

Within the gap between Damien's attacks, the curly-haired man leapt at the boy's back. He latched around the boy's neck, putting pressure on his throat as he cut off the supply of oxygen. But the boy was still armed with a sword; with both arms occupied, Chester could only put his head between his shoulder plates to mitigate the incoming strike.

"WOOF!"

Maxwell leapt at the weapon, catching the boy's gauntlet in his maw and blocking the strike. The canine clung to Damien's arm for dear life, and it sealed their victory.

Damien couldn't use all his strength in such a disadvantageous position, and after several seconds the boy went limp. Chester dropped the warrior to the ground, panting and wheezing after the entire ordeal. Maxwell sniffed and whined as he guarded his unconscious owner.

The rest of the tavern began to head for the exit, but Chester stood at the front with his arms crossed. His mouth was set in a firm line, and the Attainium hammer in his hand grew spikes on its exterior.

"Hey. None of you are going home just yet. I need some fuckin' answers."

Damien woke up groggily to a black tongue licking him awake. The smell of stale air and sawdust entered his nostrils.

You have been poisoned.

Due to the poison being diluted, effects are diminished slightly.

Your Poison Resistance has resisted a portion of the effects.

Your Bulwark of Darkness has resisted a portion of the effects.

His entire body was sore and he tried to recall what happened before his vision went dark. All that remained was a distinct vision of the battle in Welton, but the despair and fear he felt was magnified a dozen times over. Damien remembered that terror turning into rage after remembering Delont's spear reaching for Natalia.

'I saw that contractor's spear going for Aunt Nat again and I just lost it...'

He looked at his surroundings and noticed his partner standing not too far away. Chester had over two dozen people kneeling before him in a submissive position. They all had their heads down, palms facing forward in front of the curly-haired man wielding a comically large and spiky hammer over his shoulder.

"Oh, you're awake. Just in time. This fuckin' asshole poisoned us."

Chester raised his fist to reveal the blonde bartender being held by the scruff of his shirt. His nose was broken, and it was easy to tell who caused it as evidenced by the blood on the curly-haired man's gauntlet. It seemed he had done a thorough investigation by the time the vampire teen woke up.

Damien tried his best to make sense of the situation, still addled by the effects of the poison. Some of the people turned their heads and looked like they were about to crap themselves upon seeing the boy fully awake. He couldn't understand why. Glancing at the tavern, he couldn't help but ask about the state of the building they were in.

"Why'd you have to go and destroy the pub? We shouldn't be gathering so much attention to ourselves."

'I didn't even know Chester could cause this much property damage. Well, he could. And he would. But in such a short time? This looks like-'

"ME?! You're the one who did it! You went berserk after getting poisoned and tried to kill me!" Chester shook his head in disbelief. "But man, I gotta admit. These guys are pretty impressive for pushing us this far. I can't believe they made us like this."

Damien nodded in agreement. The tavern residents were all thinking the same thing.

'These bastards are crazy...! They did that to each other!'

The illusionist gave him a rundown of what occurred. He got a lot of information from the men, using his knowledge and experience to deduce whether they were lying. Chester only had to show the bartender once what happened if they lied or not. After listening to his companion's explanations for a little longer, Damien tried to recap what he just learned.

"So this is a tavern that functions as a tourist trap, correct?"

The blonde man, whose name turned out to be Jockney, nodded fearfully.

"And those guys are in on it too?" Damien asked for clarification, eyeing the tavern residents who had acted strangely before they sat down.

Some of the people on the floor shook their heads, but they flinched upon seeing the illusionist staring them down with no small amount of vindictiveness.

"Yeah, they call dibs on whatever the people have in exchange for keeping quiet about the trap. Then they sell the victims off to whoever. So the locals are in on it. Bunch of cunts."

The vampire sighed. He truly underestimated the extent of Garbrandt's dangers and nearly died within hours of entering the city. Damien glared at the illusionist.

"I knew you jinxed us, you crazy lunatic..." He said darkly, making his way past the rubble to sit on a nearby chair. He was still suffering from a slight migraine.

"Oh don't even get started. Just-whatever," Chester turned to their unwilling audience, still holding Jockney up by his shirt. "Do any of you know where Braham Rose is?"

Damien interjected to give them some more details. "Long hair, almost two meters tall. Looks like me."

"Probably a bit more handsome. More proportionate on the limbs."

The vampire reigned in his violent intentions toward his partner in favor of getting an answer from the crowd. The people looked at each other in uncertainty. After several moments of silence, the curly-haired man spoke up once more.

"Okay, Every ten seconds there's no answer I'm breaking someone. One, two, th-"

"We honestly don't know!" One of them confessed. They looked to be in near tears. "I haven't heard about a Braham or anything, you probably won't find him here!"

"You know somewhere we could find him?"

"Uh, uh, the gang that runs this part of town; the Twilight Bandits. They might know a thing or two!" A woman said, raising her hand to speak.

Chester could immediately tell there was something fishy about that statement. She seemed too willing to come forth with it and there was likely a catch.

"Oh, well I suppose you wouldn't mind taking us there, do you?"

Her face blanched, and she shook her head as though he had just asked her to commit suicide. The illusionist assumed that piece of information was a trap as well.

"Doesn't seem like they know much. I guess we'll have to look elsewhere." Damien said. He didn't think much of it. He had seen the city from the horizon; it was several times larger than any of the kingdoms they'd been to. Expecting a random passerby to know a particular individual, regardless of how infamous they were, was too optimistic.

"Alright, alright. Everybody; run your pockets."

"Y-you can't do this. The Twilight Bandits will kill y-OOF!" A man tried to speak up from the kneeling position before being kicked in the chest. The sight of him groaning on the floor silenced any further protests.

Chester ran through their belongings and sighed upon seeing nothing worth taking aside from a few more silver coins. He hustled the bartender again, forcing him to give out the poison they both had taken. He went behind the bar, into a cabinet hidden from plain sight, and grabbed a plain glass bottle no larger than the size of his palm.

Nightmare Syrup

- This poison whose main element is fae tears has an immediate effect of paralysis. It causes severe hallucinations which have a small chance of rendering the target catatonic.

- Weight: 0.1kg

'This could be useful in the future.'

The bottle was half-full with a dark-purple, viscous liquid. Chester didn't know how they didn't notice it in their food and resolved to find a method for detecting poisons. He wasn't keen on testing his resistances regardless of whether it made him stronger or not. He placed it within the slot of his bag filled with miscellaneous (stolen) goodies, which included a demon scroll, Kraken's blood, and other items he couldn't be bothered to remember.

"Okay, let's get the hell out of here."

Chester and Damien abandoned Fishhook Tavern with haste, unwilling to attract any further attention. They kept their robes up and quietly transformed into more ragged clothing, blending into their surroundings naturally as they continued the search for Braham Rose.