Chapter 93: Fragility of the Soul.

The slowly ebbing world graciously began to return to Nero in faint pulses.

First, it was the sound of the rhythmic pounding of boots against earth and heavy breathing. The rustle of branches being pushed aside as the group all rushed through the bramble and undergrowth.

Then returned the sensations— the uncomfortable, jarring bounce of movement as his stomach pressed against something hard. There was also the feeling of not being grounded with his head hanging upside down.l and his legs flailing about.

’What the hell?!’ he tried to mutter, but failed to even his mouth.

Someone was carrying him.

Nero’s eyes snapped open fully. Blood had dried on his face and crusted around his nose and eyes. His head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache that seemed to pulse behind his eyeballs.

It was excruciating…

Feeling him stirring awake, Geor suddenly spoke up,

“He’s awake,”

The large man carried him over his shoulder like a sack of grain, one arm wrapped around his legs to keep him secure. Despite the burden, Geor’s pace didn’t seem slowed at all. If anything, his breathing was a bit labored but otherwise quite steady.

“Put me down,” Nero managed to croak out. His throat was raw with pain and the coppery taste of blood.

“Can you stand?” Geor asked without breaking his stride.

He was right behind the group of four, and so on his shoulder, Nero could see right into the inky blackness they had left behind.

Nero tried clenching his fists. It all felt extremely heavy and sluggish. But his limbs were definitely functional.

All he had to do was take a moment to recover.

“Yes.”

Geor slowed to a stop and carefully lowered Nero to the ground. The moment his feet touched earth, Nero’s knees buckled. He managed to catch himself against a tree.

Letting out a groan, he slid down and rested on an arching root, his breathing hard and heavy.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temples as he fought to remain conscious.

The pain in his head had only gotten worse.

The others had stopped as well. Garrick stood a few paces ahead, his broadsword still drawn with sweat pouring down his face.

Obed was bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air while Aisha looked pale but concerned as she walked over towards him.

“Are you okay? Are you still hurt?”

Seeing the genuine concern on her face, Nero’s brows trembled.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

He nodded then asked,

“How long was I out?”

“Thirty minutes? Maybe more,” Garrick said with a frown. He turned to face Nero, his expression hard,

“What the hell happened back there? Did you do something?”

Nero opened his mouth to respond but Aisha cut in furiously.

“What the hell are you even saying?! That was obviously a targeted attack!” she said quickly in Nero’s defense, her teeth slightly bared like a cat protecting her cub.

Her voice was slightly strained but confident,

“Beings like the Defiled Cherub are strange and unpredictable. Their attacks do not have reason most of the time. There is no way Nero would have known that he would be attacked like that.”

Garrick’s jaw tightened. He looked at Nero for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to believe that explanation or not. Eventually, he simply huffed and turned away.

“Doesn’t matter now,” he muttered. “Obed. Come here.”

The slender man grimaced then straightened and moved to Garrick’s side.

The two of them walked a short distance away, speaking in hushed voices. Nero couldn’t make out the words, but the tension in their postures was very clear.

Geor sat down heavily on a fallen log. He pulled out his waterskin and took a long drink, then offered it to Nero.

Nero accepted it gratefully. The water was warm, slightly bitter, and tasted faintly of leather, but it soothed his raw throat.

Aisha moved closer to him. Turning her face to him, she took out a rag from somewhere and bsgan wiping away the blood on his face. The look in her eyes was intense and deep. Like she was staring at her precious treasure being blemished.

It made him incredibly uneasy. But he was grateful as she did seem genuine.

“Are you really okay?” she asked quietly.

Nero wiped his mouth and handed the waterskin back to Geor.

“I will be fine,” he said.

That wasn’t entirely a lie. The headache had already begun to fade after he had some water to drink. Though the memory of what he’d just seen— the twisted words that still occasionally rang in his skull, remained vivid and terrible.

Even though he was out of the danger zone, the corruption had already been imprinted into him.

The damage was already done.

Because of his {Heretic} attribute, he was very resistant to corruption. Because of that, what would have turned a normal human into a pile of bloated, tumorous flesh and bones had merely given him a really bad headache and a terrible case of the spooks.

The knowledge had also remained in his mind. It was encrypted and he couldn’t make much sense of it at the moment, but something told him he would have to decode it as soon as possible.

“What happened? Did you see or hear anything strange?” Aisha pressed intently, almost like she was searching for something.

Nero hesitated.

’Does she think I’ve been corrupted?’

There was ample reason for him to believe that was what she thought. After all, what he had displayed earlier were telltale signs of a spirit attack.

It would have been incredibly odd if he wasn’t corrupted already. The best case scenario would be that the seeds of corruption already laid within him.

He couldn’t let that even be considered.

He shook his head.

“All I remember is blacking out.”

Aisha studied his face for a moment, then nodded slowly. Although she still didn’t seem convincing, she had decided to lay it to rest for now.

Garrick and Obed’s conversation grew more heated.

Nero’s ears twitched as he caught fragments of the conversation…

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