Another tedious day in this repeating forest. Efforts to soothe these dull, unremarkable days where only morning and night cycle endlessly were beginning to feel futile. *. . . *

It is night again. Though it is dark, you have adapted and find comfort in front of the campfire. But in that peaceful moment, footsteps begin to echo from behind.

Thump— Thump—

How many? Three? No, four? Or perhaps five? You stand up and ready your weapon, assuming it's those weirdos again—

But this time, it's a ranged attacker. It is a Cultist in red clothes, holding a crossbow in his hand. You swallow hard at the increased difficulty compared to melee units.