The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across Woodhaven's main street. Cain wiped sweat from his brow as he carried a rack of newly forged daggers to the front display of the shop. The day had been busy but ordinary—dozens of new Adventurers purchasing their first weapons, veterans passing through with barely a glance at the "starter gear," and the occasional question about crafting techniques that Cain dutifully answered according to his knowledge.

His father had just begun banking the forge fire, signaling the approaching end of their workday, when the first screams reached them.

"What was that?" Cain asked, looking up from his inventory count.

Edric paused, hammer suspended mid-air. "Sounds like trouble in the square."

More screams followed, along with a thunderous crash that seemed to shake the very foundation of the village. Cain moved to the shop door and peered outside. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Chaos had erupted in Woodhaven's peaceful center. A group of Adventurers—at least fifteen of them, all bearing levels in the 20s—swarmed through the village like locusts. They weren't the typical visitors. These Adventurers wore matching tabards bearing a crimson emblem of a laughing skull, and they moved with coordinated purpose.

"The Crimson Grins," Cain heard someone shout. "They're back!"

One of them, a hulking figure named "BoneBreaker," was systematically smashing market stalls with a massive warhammer that glowed with unnatural energy. Two others corralled terrified villagers against a wall, casting flame spells at their feet and laughing as the simple farmers and craftspeople cowered in fear.

"Father," Cain called, his voice tight with alarm. "The village is under attack."

Edric emerged from the forge, his expression unchanging as he took in the scene. "The guards will handle it. Return to your duties."

But the village guards were already overwhelmed. Cain watched as two guards approached the marauding Adventurers, swords drawn, only to be struck down with casual efficiency. The guards collapsed to the ground, their bodies disappearing in a shimmer of light—they would return at the shrine eventually, but for now, Woodhaven stood defenseless.

"Remember, nothing is permanent in a starter village," called out an Adventurer with "LordChaos" floating above his head in jagged crimson letters. He appeared to be the leader, a tall figure in black armor adorned with spikes and glowing red runes. "Just have your fun with the villagers. Everything restores itself in sanctuaries after an hour or two anyway."

"What about that one?" Another Adventurer pointed toward the village well, where Cain's mother stood protectively in front of three level 1 Adventurers who had obviously just arrived.

"The village guide? Oh, she's perfect. Guides have the most interesting responses when they're threatened." LordChaos grinned beneath his helmet. "Let's see what she says when her newcomers are in danger."

A cold fear gripped Cain as he watched the group turn toward his mother. Without thinking, he stepped out of the shop.

"Cain!" his father called sharply. "Stay inside. This doesn't concern us."

But it did concern them. It concerned everyone in Woodhaven. And most of all, it concerned his mother, who stood alone against fifteen high-level Adventurers with nothing but her healer's robes and unwavering dignity.

"Please step aside," Lydia was saying as the Adventurers approached. Her voice carried across the square, calm despite the danger. "These newcomers have just arrived and are under my protection."

"Under your protection?" LordChaos laughed, the sound echoing metallically through his helmet. "And what exactly do you think you can do, healer? Your protection means nothing."

Lydia stood her ground. "Woodhaven is a sanctuary. Violence against guides and newcomers violates the ancient laws."

"The ancient laws!" another Adventurer mocked, twirling a dagger between her fingers. "Listen to her, speaking as if such rules matter to us."

"We're the Crimson Grins, sweetheart," LordChaos said, stepping closer to Lydia. "We specialize in finding the boundaries of what's possible. And right now, we're curious about what happens when village guides fail their sworn duties."

He turned his attention to the three newcomers cowering behind Lydia. They were clearly bewildered, having just arrived in a world supposed to welcome them, only to find it overrun by chaos.

"Run," Lydia told them firmly. "Head for the eastern gate."

The new Adventurers hesitated only briefly before sprinting away, pursued by the jeers of several Crimson Grins who made a halfhearted attempt to follow before being called back by their leader.

"Let them go," LordChaos ordered. "Newcomers aren't worth the trouble. It's the villagers that provide the entertainment." He turned back to Lydia. "Now, let's see how you respond to true danger."

From the doorway of the forge, Cain watched in horror as LordChaos raised his hand, dark energy swirling around his fingertips. Everything in him screamed to rush forward, to help his mother, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot—frozen by fear and the knowledge that he stood no chance against such powerful Adventurers.

"Cain." His father's hand landed heavily on his shoulder. "Come inside. Now."

"But Mother—"

"Your mother will return to us, as will all who fall today. It is the way of things." Edric's voice was level, emotionless, as if discussing the weather rather than the imminent harm to his wife.

Before Cain could respond, a crackling bolt of shadow energy shot from LordChaos's hand, striking Lydia squarely in the chest. She staggered backward, a hand going to the point of impact as her strength visibly diminished.

"Interesting," LordChaos mused. "Village guides are more resilient than regular villagers. Let's see how much damage she can take before succumbing."

Another Crimson Grin stepped forward, this one wielding twin daggers that dripped with some vile green substance. "Let me try something," she said, her name—"VenomStrike"—glowing with the same crimson as her leader's. "I've been wanting to test my new poison daggers on a healer."

The raiding party formed a circle around Lydia, cutting off any escape. Each took turns casting spells or striking with weapons, calling out strange numbers as if conducting some perverse experiment. Lydia made no attempt to flee, standing with quiet dignity even as her strength visibly waned.

Throughout the village, similar scenes played out. Shopkeepers were dragged from their stores, farmers tormented in their fields, and the few remaining guards hunted down and defeated with methodical cruelty. Buildings couldn't be permanently damaged in the sanctuary, but stalls were overturned, goods scattered, and the carefully maintained order of Woodhaven reduced to chaos.

A commotion near the shrine drew the attention of some Crimson Grins. New Adventurers were still arriving, materializing into a nightmare rather than the welcoming village they expected. Most fled immediately, running for the gates as Lydia had advised the others. Some froze in confusion. A few tried to fight back, only to be swatted down by Adventurers twenty levels their superior.

"Look at this one," BoneBreaker called out, grabbing a newly arrived Adventurer by the collar. "He's trying to leave this world entirely!"

"You can't escape that easily," another Grin taunted. "Emergency departures take a full minute in conflict zones. Plenty of time for us to send you to the shrine for resurrection."

Cain felt sick watching the senseless cruelty. These weren't Adventurers seeking glory or challenge. They weren't even the casually dismissive veterans who treated villagers as lesser beings. These were something worse—Adventurers who derived pleasure specifically from causing distress, who saw the world and its inhabitants as playthings to be broken for amusement.

A sharp cry drew his attention back to his mother. VenomStrike's poisoned daggers had found their mark, and green tendrils of toxic magic spread visibly across Lydia's skin. Her strength, already much reduced, began failing further.