Subject 37

The night had passed swiftly, the morning arriving before they knew it. Deceived by the shadows cast by the towering cliffs, they had fallen behind schedule and were now facing dire consequences. Ben urgently warned everyone to hasten their pace and press onward, needing to reach the base of the tower as soon as possible.
Tragically, John's bull had perished during the night, and he chose to stay behind to give his loyal companion a proper burial. The remaining group hurriedly made their way, each breath becoming more labored as they pushed themselves forward. Despite their fervent efforts, it proved futile as they discovered the Taskmaster awaiting their arrival. Clad in a dark, sturdy leather garment adorned with intricate silk embellishments, he wore a crudely polished axe at his side, alongside other construction tools that showed no signs of use. His belly had grown, evidence of his limited physical labor.
Positioned closely to him on either side stood two armored soldiers, undoubtedly serving as his guards. The Taskmaster, harboring a glimmer of hope for a better outcome since their disappointing initial encounter, shook his head, declaring his judgment upon them for all to hear. "These people are useless, just another worthless band," he muttered loud enough to ensure his words reached everyone's ears.
With a gentle smile, Ben attempted to remind the Taskmaster of their inexperience, but it proved futile. The Taskmaster, unyielding in his authoritarian manner, made no effort to engage in friendly conversation. Instead, he pointed to a massive mound of muddy soil and barked orders. "This must be removed," he commanded. The mound towered above the heads of fifteen men, requiring considerable effort to clear, and the villagers were already constrained by time.

Confident at first, Ben cracked his knuckles in eager anticipation, only for his expression to falter when the Taskmaster uttered his next decree. "No magic shall be employed!" the Taskmaster bellowed into the crowd, gesturing toward some tools that could be utilized. "Come on, people! Stop gawking at your magician. He has other tasks to attend to today."
The Taskmaster's words carried a trace of twisted delight within his disgruntled voice. Discomfort settled among the villagers at the prospect of losing Ben's guidance for the day, as he had always been their leader, even in manual labor. Ben attempted to persuade the Taskmaster to allow him to stay with his people, but the response on the master's face was an unequivocal no. Sighing deeply, the Taskmaster displayed a hint of disappointment as he softly shook his head. "Well, I don't know who you are or why you trash have even arrived here, but you have a special assignment directly from my superior," he calmly announced. A wicked grin crept across his face.
"We are facing a major problem at one of the stone mines. As I've heard, you possess familiarity with these experimental creatures. Well, the thirty-seventh specimen has manifested there. Your delightful duty is to eliminate it. The choice is yours," the Taskmaster spoke sarcastically, his chuckle accentuating his words. "I believe you might survive. I've heard that this particular creature is advanced enough to drain every ounce of life from within you." His tone grew more serious as he continued.
Ben took several steps back, his face drained of color as shock overcame him. He stood frozen, unable to speak or make a move. The onlookers gazed at Ben, witnessing a fear they had never seen in him before. Despite his composure during Delondria's ambush, he now appeared truly helpless in his paralyzed state. The Taskmaster lightly slapped Ben on the back a few times, as if they were old friends. "Wake up, princess. You have a duty to fulfill!" The two guards seized Ben by his arms and forcefully dragged his rigid body away from the rest of the group...