Chapter 416: Evil

The deeper they ventured into the Thornwood, the more the forest seemed to shift around them. The canopy above had grown so dense that only scattered shafts of pale light managed to penetrate through, creating an atmosphere of perpetual twilight even though the sun still hung in the afternoon sky.

The Ein Sof here was more concentrated. It wasn’t quite the oppressive corruption of Malady’s Garden proper, but it was close enough to make his instincts scream.

Arthur walked ahead with his hand resting casually on the pommel of his sword while Jacob followed a few paces behind and to the left, his waraxe shifting slightly on his back as he moved. Neither of them seemed particularly bothered by the atmosphere.

Sergeant Aldric brought up the rear. The Templar hadn’t spoken since his warning, but Nero could feel those cold eyes on them.

The silence stretched between them like a physical thing, broken only by the crunch of dead leaves beneath their boots and the occasional cry of some distant creature deeper in the woods. The earlier camaraderie had evaporated completely under the Sergeant’s warning.

Now they walked as what they truly were— strangers bound together by circumstance, each harboring their own thoughts and motivations.

“Hold,” Arthur said suddenly, raising his fist in a gesture that brought them all to an immediate stop.

Nero froze mid-step, his hand instinctively moving to the spear strapped across his back. His eyes scanned the forest ahead, searching for whatever had caught Arthur’s attention.

At first, he saw nothing. Just more trees and shadows, much like the rest of the corrupted landscape they’d been walking through for the past few hours.

But then he noticed it…

A subtle shift in the quality of the darkness ahead. The shadows there were deeper, as though light itself was being pulled and ripped asunder.

“What is it?” Jacob asked quietly, his hand already on the handle of his waraxe.

Arthur didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were narrowed. Then he pointed to a spot roughly thirty feet ahead where the darkness seemed to poo.

“There,” he said.

Nero squinted, activating his Heretic Eyes for just a fraction of a second. The world sharpened into focus, and he saw it clearly now. Energy flows converging on a single point, swirling in patterns that suggested something large and very much alive.

He’d seen enough.

“It’s big,” he said quickly and quietly. “And it’s not alone.”

Arthur glanced back at him with raised eyebrows, clearly surprised that Nero had been able to discern so much. But he didn’t question it, simply nodded and turned back to the darkness ahead.

“What grade do you think?”

Nero considered. The Ein Sof concentration had been significant, far more than the Brandors or even the Cerberus Variant they’d encountered earlier. But it was hard to say for certain without seeing the creature itself.

“A very strong Grade C.” He said.

“Good enough odds for me,” Jacob muttered, already beginning to unsling his waraxe from his back. “We came here to hunt, didn’t we?”

Arthur’s lips curved into a slight smile, and Nero saw that same eager hunger he’d glimpsed during the earlier fights. This was what they were here for, after all.

Not conversation or philosophical discussions or friendships. They were here to kill Abominations and prove their worth.

“I’ll draw it out. When it commits to me, you two hit it from the sides.”

It was a simple plan, but Nero could see the logic in it. Arthur had the enchanted sword and clearly a lot of combat experience. If the creature was as dangerous as Nero suspected, they’d need his Relic to even the odds.

“What about the smaller ones?” Nero asked.

“Deal with them as they come. Our priority is the big guy. If we can take it down fast enough, the others will scatter or die trying to protect it.”

Nero wanted to point out that Abominations rarely had such convenient pack hierarchies, but he held his tongue. Arthur clearly had more formal training in tactics than he did, and arguing now would just waste time.

Besides, he had his own ways of dealing with threats.

“Understood,” he said simply.

Jacob moved right, his waraxe now held in both hands, the amber runes along its blade beginning to glow with a faint light that suggested sorcery was happening.

Nero drew his spear and advanced carefully. The shadows ahead were growing darker, and he could hear something now…

A wet, breathing sound.

He glanced toward Arthur and saw the young lord standing at the center of their formation, sword drawn, his posture relaxed. The pale blue runes along the long sword were glowing softly, casting strange patterns across Arthur’s face.

For a moment, Nero found himself wondering what Arthur would look like in ten years, assuming he survived that long. Would he be like Commander Strut, weathered and carrying the weight of countless deaths?

The thought vanished as the darkness ahead suddenly shifted, and something massive began to emerge from the shadows.

Nero’s breath caught in his throat.

The creature was easily twelve feet tall, its body a grotesque fusion of multiple forms that suggested it had either evolved from several different base creatures or had been created through some deliberate act of corruption. Its lower half was vaguely ursine, with thick legs ending in paws that bore claws like curved daggers. But its torso was humanoid, massively muscled and covered in thick plates of what looked like hardened bone.

And its head—

It had no face, just a smooth expanse of leathery skin stretched tight over what might have been a skull. But where the mouth should have been, the skin split open to reveal concentric rings of teeth, hundreds of them, spiraling inward toward a gullet that pulsed with sickly green light.

“Fuck me,” Jacob breathed from the right flank, and for once there was no humor in his voice.

Arthur, to his credit, didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his sword held in a perfect guard position, and called out in a clear, commanding voice.

“Come on then, you ugly bastard. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

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