As Zerutod stepped off the train in Crocus, he couldn't help but sigh. The scent of flowers filled the air, masking the underlying stench of chaos that had befallen the city. He adjusted his black trench coat, the long fabric brushing against his ankles like a dramatic cape, and tapped his katana for reassurance. It was time to put his intellectual prowess and lightning-infused fighting skills to the test. "Ah, Crocus... a city brimming with culture and now, apparently, monstrous hounds," Zerutod muttered to himself, his blind eyes staring off into the distance as if trying to make sense of the chaos around him through sheer willpower alone. He made his way through the winding streets, the garlands of flowers adorning every corner mocking his serious demeanor. It was as if the city itself was playing a cruel game, pretending to be the epitome of beauty while harboring sinister secrets. Zerutod's trained ears picked up whispers amongst the townsfolk, tales of "The Black Death" spreading like wildfire. Every peasant, merchant, and noble seemed to have a personal encounter with this monstrosity. The descriptions matched a creature straight out of nightmares - a hound with pitch-black fur, a slender body, pointy ears, and unnatural claws that resembled human hands.

As he neared Batra's Inn, Zerutod couldn't help but overhear a group of men boasting about their heroic escapades and exaggerated encounters with The Black Death. They were clearly embellishing their tales, each trying to outdo the other in bravery and fearlessness. Unable to resist, Zerutod approached the group, his polite and soft-spoken demeanor disguising his true intentions. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I couldn't help but overhear your incredible stories. Might I be able to inquire about the precise location of these encounters?" The men turned to face him, their expressions quickly turning from arrogance to confusion. Zerutod's innocent and hapless appearance seemed to throw them off guard. One man scratched his head, trying to recall the exact location. " Well, kind stranger, we encountered The Black Death near the outskirts of the city. There's an abandoned mansion, said to be haunted, overlooking a cliff. It lurks in the shadows of that wretched place," the man replied, emphasizing the words for dramatic effect. Zerutod nodded slowly, a mischievous glint dancing in his lavender eyes. "Thank you, kind sir. Your knowledge will aid me greatly in my... endeavors. Farewell." With his newfound information, Zerutod made his way towards the outskirts of Crocus.

His footsteps were light, almost unnoticeable as if he floated above the ground with ethereal grace. He could feel the electric charge in the air, the raw power of his lightning waiting to be unleashed. As he arrived at the abandoned mansion, its dilapidated structure loomed over him, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance in the moonlight. Zerutod drew his katana, the sharp blade glistening with anticipation, and stepped inside. The air inside the mansion was stale, heavy with remnants of a forgotten past. Zerutod navigated through the decrepit hallways with ease, his electroreception guiding him effortlessly. He finally reached a large chamber, the silence broken only by his own slow, deliberate breaths.

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Zerutod stood in the center of the chamber, his silver hair glinting in the moonlight that filtered through the broken windows. The tension hung heavy in the air as he gripped his katana tightly, his fingers tingling with the surge of electricity that coursed through his veins. A whisper, soft and eerie, filled the room, sending a shudder down Zerutod's spine. The Black Death had arrived. Its presence could be felt, a malevolent force that seemed to seep into every crack and crevice of the mansion. Zerutod knew that this was the pivotal moment, the clash of good and evil that would determine the fate of Crocus. From the shadows, The Black Death emerged. Its form was even more horrifying in person, its eyes gleaming with malice, its claws black as midnight. The hound lunged at Zerutod with a snarl, teeth bared, but he sidestepped with the grace of a dancer, lightning crackling around his body. "Is this all you've got?" Zerutod taunted, his voice dripping with confidence. "I've faced monsters far scarier than you on my morning stroll."

The Black Death growled a low rumble that echoed through the chamber. It lunged again, but Zerutod was prepared. With a swift slash of his katana, he sliced through the air, cutting the hound's attack in half. The sound of claws hitting the ground echoed through the chamber. Zerutod smirked, his lavender eyes glinting with amusement. The Black Death snarled in frustration, its black fur bristling. It lunged again, this time with a flurry of claws and fangs, but Zerutod was quicker. He dodged and weaved, his body a blur of movement as he anticipated every strike. "You fight like a rabid kitten!" Zerutod taunted, his voice filled with laughter. "I've seen blindfolded toddlers put up a better fight!" The hound's eyes flashed with rage, its movements growing more desperate. It could not bear the humiliation, the mockery in Zerutod's voice.

It lunged once more, this time with all its remaining strength, claws slashing through the air. But Zerutod was ready. With a lightning-fast movement, he sidestepped the attack, his katana slicing through the hound's neck in a blur of silver. The Black Death let out a bone-chilling cry, a cry that would haunt the nightmares of Crocus for years to come. As the hound whimpered its last breath, Zerutod stood victorious, his chest heaving with adrenaline. The tension that had been building throughout his journey, the anticipation and uncertainty, had brought him to this moment. He had faced the central conflict head-on, showcasing his growth and proving that even the most hapless-looking individual could harbor hidden depths of strength. Zerutod sheathed his katana, the metal sliding smoothly into its resting place. A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the chamber, the remnants of his battle surrounding him. The resolution was within reach, the city of Crocus safe once more.

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With a triumphant smile on his face, Zerutod made his way back to town, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets of Crocus. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow on the flowerbeds that lined the sidewalks. The city was at peace once more, thanks to his valiant efforts. As he strolled through the streets, lost in thought, Zerutod couldn't help but replay the battle in his mind. The adrenaline rushed through his veins, fueling his body as he deftly dodged and parried every attack. His mind buzzed with thoughts of the report he would write at the Rune Knights HQ, relishing the chance to recount his triumph over the nefarious creature. The Black Death had been a formidable opponent, but not formidable enough to best Zerutod.

He had proven his worth, his determination shining like a beacon in the darkness Buit before he could dive into the tedious task of paperwork, he decided to treat himself to a well-deserved break at the local bar.  Zerutod suddenly found himself standing outside the local bar. The lively chatter and raucous laughter spilled out onto the street, welcoming him like an old friend. Zerutod couldn't help but smirk as he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and the sound of clinking glasses filled his ears. He scanned the room, the glint of mischief in his lavender eyes. And there, sitting at the bar, was the man who had directed him to the Black Death.

Zerutod sauntered into the bar, the clinking of glasses and muffled conversations filling his ears. As he made his way to the counter, he spotted a familiar face—a man who had given him information about the Black Death. A mischievous glint danced in Zerutod's lavender eyes as he approached him. One of the men who gave Zerutod directions to where to find The Black Death took one look at Zerutod and burst into laughter. "Well, well, I didn't think you looked the type to be fool enough to go after that beast." Zerutod chuckled softly and nonchalantly replied, "Oh you need not worry about The black  Death anymore i put the beast down. " the man's laughter quickly faded, replaced with a skeptical smirk. "Oh, please. Spare me the tales of your heroic escapades. I highly doubt you managed to defeat such a legendary beast." Zerutod raised an eyebrow, a playful glimmer in his eyes. He gestured subtly to the bartender and ordered himself a refreshing lemonade. As the drink was being prepared, Zerutod reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a neatly folded handkerchief.

Without a word, he unfurled the handkerchief, revealing a grisly sight—the severed ear of the Black Death. The room fell silent as gasps and whispers spread like wildfire. Even the clattering of glassware seemed to cease. The man's eyes widened, his mouth agape. He stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. Zerutod simply smirked, sliding the ear across the counter toward him. "Still think I was too afraid to face the Black Death?" The man's hand trembled as he hesitantly reached out to touch the ear. The room held its breath, waiting for his reaction. Finally, the man's face paled, and his gaze met Zerutod's, a mix of admiration and disbelief warring within his eyes. "Youyou actually did it," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "You defeated the Black Death." Zerutod nodded, a humble expression crossing his features. "It wasn't easy, I'll admit. But sometimes, the most incredible victories come from the most unexpected fighters."As the words sank in, the bar erupted into thunderous applause and cheers.

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