Chapter 18: Evil is of the Earth (3).

Nero opened his eyes.

He stared into the pulsing light of the lines of glowing algae clinging to the cave wall.

The damp scent of the earth rushed in to fill his nose.

The smell of the blood from his wounds, and the alcohol from the makeshift gauze also wormed their way into his lungs as well, providing a rather strange contrast.

Still, that was not enough to pull his mind away from the deep contemplation that plagued him.

In just two days, his world has turned around on its head.

He shrank down to a ball and wrapped his arms around his head.

’Don’t think about it.’

It was best not to think about it for now.

He still needed his rest. With more rest, he would be able to prepare better for his coming journey. He would need all the rest he could get.

The dark cave’s whistle was like the sweet call of sleep. A heartbeat that continued its ancient rhythm as Nero decided it was time to settle in for the night.

His stomach rumbled.

’I should have eaten something.’

Although he was hungry, he didn’t have much of an appetite. It was better to wait it out that to throw it all up and risk wasting precious food. From what he had heard, most of the beasts and forage of the Wilderness were completely inedible. One would only hope death was the end after consuming the wrong thing.

His eyelids becoming heavy, Nero slowly shut his eyes…

Silence.

Nero’s eyes snapped open in the sudden silence.

The pulsing veins of algea on the walls had gone dark, their bioluminescent glow fading to nothing. Even the whistling sound from the mouth of the cave was gone.

Everything was still.

Far too still.

He sat up slowly, his hand moving instinctively to the Silver Blade. In the absolute darkness, his slightly enhanced vision remained, allowing him to somewhat see in the dark chamber. With the light of the algae vanishing, visibility has dropped quite a bit, making it possible for him to discern the shapes around him.

However, that was about it. He couldn’t see much more than that.

A bad feeling stirred up in his heart.

From the mouth of the cave, a new sound reached his ears. Not the gentle whistling he had become accustomed to, but something else.

Something that sounded like strangely wet, ominous footsteps.

Nero felt his heart pounding against his ribcage.

’Oh no…’

The sound was getting closer.

Nero rose to his feet as quietly as possible, Silver Blade in his hand. Despite the prevalent chill, a line of sweat had gathered on his forehead.

With whatever that lived in this place returning, he could guess his presence was either going to be ’extremely’ well received, or he would not be welcomed.

Either way, both possibilities were equally as frightening.

The dragging sound grew louder.

There was also no escape route for him even if he wanted to make a run for it.

So all he could do was wait patiently.

Nero waited.

The dragging sound stopped.

Then, slowly, something began to squeeze through the entrance.

What emerged defied description.

Nero took a trembling step back, swallowing the scream of horror that would have broken out of his throat otherwise.

’What in all the Hells is that?!’

With his eyes that could faintly make out what he was seeing in the darkness, Nero could see that the thing was flesh.

Vast amounts of it, flowing like liquid but maintaining a grotesque cohesion. The mass was easily ten times the size of a man, but it moved with disturbing fluidity, pouring itself across the ground as it slithered towards him.

’Damn it! Damn it!’

Even the four-winged abomination seemed to pale in contract to this absolute monstrosity.

Embedded throughout the flesh were eyes. Hundreds of them, each one different in size and color and shape. Human eyes, animal eyes, eyes that seemed to belong to no earthly creature.

They blinked independently, rolling in their sockets as they searched the cave.

And faces. Dear gods, the faces.

Scattered across the creature’s surface like islands in a sea of flesh were human faces, their features twisted in expressions of eternal agony. Their mouths opened and closed soundlessly, as if trying to scream but lacking the breath to do so.

Some of the faces, he could recognize as belonging to the townsfolk that had died the other day.

His body trembled as he took another step back.

’How… What is going on?’

The creature had no mouth, but when it spoke, the sound came from all the faces at once, a chorus of discordant whispers that seemed to crawl inside Nero’s skull.

Nero felt himself go dizzy.

’W-what is going on?’

The whispers, although seemingly lacking meaning, was strangely comforting.

It possessed a soft warmth. Like the call of his mother when he was just a little boy, teaching him from the book in his bag.

It seemed to be trying to tell him something.

{Heretic, do not listen}.

Nero’s eyes widened as he snapped out of the spell.

’W-wha—’

He raised his blade.

’What just happened?’

{The Heretic was under the influence of a soul attack}.

’An attack?’

{Those maddening whispers. If you listen to them, especially at the current tier of the Seal of Divinity, your soul is sure to become corrupted with madness}.

Nero gritted his teeth.

’Thanks for the heads-up.’

The hundreds of eyes focused on him with predatory intensity. The faces twisted into gnarled expressions of hunger.

The creature moved.

Despite its size, it seemed to flow across the chamber floor like water, the mass of flesh rippling and undulating as it surged toward him. The arms embedded in not the large, fleshy mass lashed out, the blackened talons at their ends carving deep grooves in the cave wall where Nero’s head had been a moment before.

Nero rolled aside and slashed with the Silver Blade. The enchanted edge bit deep into the creature’s flesh. Black ichor sprayed from the wound, but the damage sealed itself almost immediately.

The creature’s voice, the sound of a hundred dying, became even louder.

Nero’s face paled as he staggered.

More arms erupted from the mass, each one twisted and wrong. They attacked from all angles, forcing Nero to dance between the striking claws.

The Abomination was fast, but he could just barely keep up. His training over the last two years involved having to avoid hits from Peter or a group of the veteran guards. That was meant to make sure he remained nimble even whilst lugging around heavy armor.

But he was tiring. And the creature showed no signs of slowing down.

One of the arms caught him across the chest, its talons shredding through his armor and into the flesh beneath. Nero stumbled backward, blood flowing freely from the wounds.

The faces embedded in the creature’s flesh contorted into wicked smiles. The scent of his human blood excited it.

Nero wiped blood from his mouth and raised his blade again. The Silver Blade gleamed in the darkness. With the Blessing of Sharpness, he could continue to hack at the creature’s flesh all day. But however sharp the blade might be, it didn’t matter if he didn’t possess the strength to penetrate deeply enough.

Dropping to a roll, he threw himself backward, his body crashing into a wall.

This thing was beyond anything he had faced before. Although the Grey Crows were terrifying, this was just something else. The faces were constantly twisting, as though trying to mirror the many faces in his heart.

Another arm lashed out. Nero ducked, but there was a second arm waiting which caught him from the side, wrapping around his waist and lifting him off the ground. The talons pierced his flesh, and he could feel his blood being drawn out through the creature’s appendage.

“Oracle!” he gasped through the pain as he hacked at the arm,

“What is this thing?”

{A Soul Amalgam. A creature born of the curses and lamentations of multiple abominations upon their death. It is born, usually as the waste of a much more powerful abomination. It has the ability to peer into the soul of its victims, putting them under its curses and illusions. It is much more powerful than a Grey Crow}.

The creature began to squeeze, and Nero felt his ribs creaking under the pressure. More arms emerged from the mass, reaching for him with hungry talons.

The faces embedded in the flesh whispered insanity in unison.

Nero gritted his teeth and raised the Silver Blade above his head.

He brought it down with all his strength, driving the enchanted edge deep into the arm that held him. A flash of silver light erupted along the blade’s length, and for the first time, the creature’s scream was one of genuine pain.

The arm released him, and Nero dropped to the chamber floor. But before he could recover, three more arms descended toward him with enough force to shatter a brick wall.

He rolled desperately, the talons missing him by inches. One of them struck the stone where his head had been, sending chips of rock flying.

Hugging the momentary safety, Nero glanced at his wounds. The blood loss was taking its toll. His movements were becoming sluggish, and his breathing labored. The fresh wounds across his chest burned with every motion.

Another arm caught him across the back, sending him sprawling. The Silver Blade skittered across the chamber floor, the slight radiance at its edge dimming.

The creature surged forward, its mass of flesh flowing over him like a tide. The faces smiled down at him with terrible hunger, their mouths opening to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

Nero’s vision began to blur.

’It’s over.’

The realization was nothing short of grim.

He had barely set foot on this evil world, and yet, he was already about to be consumed.

This was how it would end.

He was not going to die of old age, nor would he go out in a blaze of glory.

No. He was to be consumed by this writhing mass of corrupted flesh.

The creature’s weight pressed down on him, and he could feel his consciousness starting to slip away.

He could see many faces.

His mother. His father. Declan. Peter. The older guards. The herbalist widow. The Priest.

All their faces ground over his being, tearing at and consuming his flesh.

And so, his life came to an end…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep