Chapter 10: Massacre [2]

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The final hideout of The Knife organization lay in the far southeast of the Nameless Streets, near a dark forest surrounded by a barren wasteland filled with massive glass crystals known as the Crystal Forest.

From what Louis had learned, the place was called an “Abandoned Castle” or similar. After searching, he finally located it near the woods and the shimmering glass. According to the records he had access to, it was an abandoned fortress from a small kingdom that had existed before the Frostbane Kingdom rose.

“I can sense several presences,” Belladine said. “Some of them are formidable…”

“You can sense them from this far away?” Catrise asked.

“Yes, thanks to my Spirit Aura and my spirits,” Belladine explained. “They whisper everything I need to know.”

“I see. Can you send a spirit inside to scout the interior and report what the people there are doing?” Louis asked.

“One has already gone,” Belladine said, closing her eyes and pressing a finger to her forehead. “Ah, yes—the entrance is guarded by four men: two outside, two inside. There are dozens more criminals within. Two powerful warriors, swordsmen rather than magicians; I don’t sense refined mana from them yet. They appear to be drinking with their leader—a tall, massive man, the tallest human I’ve ever seen, almost orc-like in height. He radiates a potent aura… one of madness mixed with Fantasium.”

“A Spiralwalker!” Catrise panicked. “To think the leader of The Knife was an Awakened! But isn’t he just an ordinary human?”

“There are no laws against ordinary humans awakening a Spiral of Incarnations,” Louis explained. “If they can hold Fantasium in their veins long enough to form a Fantasy Heart and stabilize the flow while building resistance to Fantasium poisoning, it’s possible. For Espers, Sinners, or Anomalies, it’s far easier, of course.”

“He doesn’t seem to be an Esper,” Belladine added. “Human Espers possess a distinct ’Mind Field’ around their heads; there’s nothing like that around this man.”

“Huh…” Louis rubbed his chin. “Wait—could it be the drug? He probably took a massive dose, flooded his body with Fantasium, and embodied his own madness. He’s insane.”

“It takes that kind of madness to lead a criminal organization, I suppose…” Elises muttered.

“Then let’s move,” Louis said. “Belladine, what Spiral Tier do you estimate he’s reached?”

“…At least Tier 8,” Belladine muttered, looking at Louis with worry. “Why don’t we wait for reinforcements, Your Majesty? Tier 8 may be too much for us…”

“No, it’s fine,” Louis replied. “I’ve saved my strength for this moment. Belladine, did you detect any Dimensional Drift?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t sense anything like that in the abandoned castle. It’s most likely in the sewers, as you speculated, Prince Louis.”

“I see,” Louis nodded, smiling. “So The Black Fang has it? Yet The Knife is cooperating with them and receiving materials. How ironic.”

“It feels as though the rivalry between the two groups is almost fabricated,” Catrise said. “They don’t feel like separate organizations at all, especially if they’re working together like this!”

“Yeah, I thought the same,” Fernand nodded. “What do you think, Your Majesty?”

“We’ll find out once we confront them. Let’s move—quickly,” Louis urged.

The group reached the guarded entrance in moments. Louis removed his mask, revealing his beautiful face, and waved casually at the two thugs as he approached. They were confused that such a handsome young man was strolling toward them.

Then he vanished into the shadows and reappeared behind them. They turned to confront him, only to feel sharp pain in their necks before their heads rolled across the ground.

Louis smiled, walked to the door, and knocked gently.

“What? What’s wrong— Guh?!”

A spear pierced the guard’s chest the instant he opened the door. His face twisted in pain as he met Louis’s bright golden eyes, then he was dragged outside and discarded.

“What the— Hey!”

The second interior guard tried to shout, but a frozen sword pierced his mouth and severed his head before he could alert anyone. Fernand had moved swiftly.

In silence, Louis nodded and sent his three zombies inside after Belladine applied her enhancement and reinforcement spells to everyone.

“Go.”

The zombies growled. The two weaker soldier zombies opened fire with their guns, causing instant chaos. Panic spread as people saw the Fourth Knife, Karn, swinging his sword like a deranged lunatic and cleaving dozens apart.

“W-What’s going on?!”

“Is that the Fourth Knife, Karn?!”

“Aaaagh!”

“H-He’s undead—a zombie!”

“Run! Call the boss!”

“Tell the other Knives we’re being attacked by undead!”

Louis gave them no chance to escape. He pursued those fleeing toward the stairs that led deeper underground and dispatched them instantly—either with a sharp swing of his sword or by hurling his spear straight through their chests.

“Fourth Knife, huh? So that’s who you were.”

He quickly understood the organization’s naming scheme. Those with real power were simply called “Knives.” It was as uncreative as it sounded. Karn had been the Fourth Knife—the lowest-ranked elite. Above him stood the Third, Second, and First Knife: the boss.

All three remaining Knives waited below, ready to unleash their full strength the moment Louis descended. The first floor was already cleared, thanks to the zombies and Louis’s lightning-fast strikes. The second and third floors remained unaware for now, but that wouldn’t last long. They had to move quickly.

“Belladine, enhance all our attributes again,” Louis ordered. “Keep healing and shielding spells ready, just in case.”

“Understood!” Belladine replied with a firm nod.

“Elises, Fernand—never leave each other’s side,” Louis continued. “You fight best when you combine your power with the Dual Aura Technique.”

“Yes.”

“We will.”

“Catrise, you’re our primary healer and a powerful all-around fighter. That also makes you the biggest target. Stay alert and cautious,” Louis said. “Focus on protecting the others more than me. I’ll be fine.”

“…If you insist,” Catrise sighed. “I will.”

“Good. Let’s move. Karn, use Sword Energy as much as you need. I’ll supply more Fantasium if you start running low.” Louis injected himself with a Fantasium shot. “I brought plenty of restoratives.”

“Growl…” Karn groaned in acknowledgment and charged downstairs with the other two zombies.

Though Louis could only control three zombies at once, he intended to wring every possible advantage from them. He even ordered the weaker pair to vomit miasma directly into enemies’ faces—and it worked beautifully. Few realized that a zombie’s rotting stomach constantly produced toxic miasma. One well-aimed spew could weaken even a strong opponent, worsening their wounds over time even if they managed to destroy the zombie first.

“Graaahhh!”

“Fourth Knife?!”

“Sir Karn, stop! Agh!”

“Gyaaa! Run! They’re zombies!”

Louis nodded to the others and descended. The thugs lounging on the lower level, lazily waiting for nightfall, never saw him coming. He moved like a cold phantom—sword in one hand, spear in the other—beheading and impaling with ruthless efficiency. He could have unleashed stronger magic, but he saved it for those who truly required it.

“Who are you people?!”

“Ahhh!”

“Have mercy—I have a family—ACK!”

No plea swayed him. Louis felt nothing. These men had chosen crime in the heart of his kingdom’s capital while his mother lay ill and his father buried himself in the VPI. They had assumed the royal family was too weak to stop them.

“Nngh…! Guuh…! P-Please… I’m only doing this for money…”

The last thug whimpered, Louis’s sword buried in his shoulder. The prince stared down with cold yellow eyes, then thrust his hand into the man’s chest and tore out his still-beating heart. He studied it for a moment, watching the final pulses.

“Killing is surprisingly easy… even now. It doesn’t feel strange at all. Almost like second nature.”

Deep down, a faint flicker of guilt—William’s lingering conscience—stirred. Louis crushed it without hesitation. Even William’s ego accepted that survival in this world demanded blood.

“Soul Enslavement… wait. I have an idea.”

A thin smile curved his lips. He bound two fresh souls to two new corpses, etched runes of Void-element “death” script across their flesh and issued a single command.

“Merge with as many corpses as you can. Become monstrosities.”

The runes flared. Shadows writhed, and the zombies began absorbing nearby bodies—growing larger, sprouting extra limbs and screaming heads, twisting into grotesque human centipedes. His companions fought the urge to vomit; the sight was especially horrifying to the elven knight.

“Good.”

Each abomination could safely absorb five bodies before becoming unstable. They now resembled the nightmare Zorba had become when he devoured his own familiars.

“Karn, hold position. You two—wreck everything. Vomit on them, tear them apart, devour them. Do whatever you want.”

The zombie centipedes roared and thundered deeper, unleashing another massacre.

Elises, Fernand, and even Belladine felt a twinge of guilt despite facing criminals. What Prince Louis was doing felt cowardly and monstrous—far beyond ordinary morality.

“Why… do you rely so heavily on these creatures, Prince Louis?” Belladine finally asked. “Can’t we face them honorably?”

“Belladine,” Louis replied calmly, “in this world, nothing is more precious than our own lives. You understand that don’t you? You value your life over almost anything—perhaps even above mine. I don’t blame you. It’s instinct. Zombies have no such instinct, and I can make as many as I kill. It’s simple: they absorb the danger, so we survive.”

“…Even so,” she whispered, clearly conflicted.

“You’re upset about desecrating corpses?” Louis asked. “I find it terrifying and repulsive too. But it’s the means to an end. Don’t worry—I’m not some corpse-obsessed maniac.”

“I… I never thought that my lord. I won’t question your decisions again. My apologies.”

Belladine bowed her head and chose to follow without further protest. She had no right to judge her prince; he was right in everything he said.

“Good. It’s time,” Louis nodded. “Karn, go ahead and stir chaos.”

“Growl!”

Karn leaped down the stairs, blade flashing. Dozens of Sword Energy slashes tore through walls and flesh alike.

Louis and the others followed in the planned formation—Belladine at the front, the two knights flanking Louis, Catrise guarding the rear. They descended into a slaughterhouse: corpses everywhere, blood and entrails painting the floor.

The two abominations Louis had created were locked in combat with the remaining elite Knives.

One was a towering, muscular man with short red hair and blue eyes, swinging a massive golden axe that blazed with fire. He bellowed as he cleaved one centipede apart—only for the severed pieces to crawl back, spitting miasma and acidic bile that melted his clothes and seared his skin.

“Gaaah! Disgusting! What the fuck are these things?!”

He ignited his axe in a storm of flames and burned the crawling flesh to ash.

Meanwhile, the second centipede clashed against a lean, silver-haired swordsman in black robes. Crimson shockwaves erupted from each precise katana strike, carving dozens of wounds across Karn’s body. Yet Karn felt no pain and charged relentlessly, fueled by the Fantasium Louis continuously supplied—pushing him far beyond his original strength.

The third and strongest Knife—a bald, brown-skinned giant with sharp golden eyes—crushed the remaining centipede into rotten paste with raw power. Miasma rolled harmlessly off his steel-like skin. The entire party froze for a moment, stunned by the sheer might of the three surviving leaders of The Knife.

“Hm. And just who the hell are you?” the red-haired axeman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Kill him first!” Louis commanded, vanishing into shadow.

“What the…?! Shadow magic?” the bandit muttered as Elises and Fernand charged. “Hoh? Knights? So the bastards from the capital finally found us?”

He laughed, licking his lips. His blazing axe met their combined assault head-on. The impact drove the knights back, flames licking at their ice armor—but Belladine’s enhancements held. Sword and axe fused into the Dual Aura Technique, clashing against the bandit’s weapon and—for one brief moment—matching his brute strength.

CRASH!

“What—?! A Dual Aura technique?!”

Shock flashed across his face. Elises melted into shadow, reappearing behind the bandit and burying his axe in the man’s shoulder, shattering bone.

“GUAACK!”

Fernand followed instantly, sword carving a bloody arc across chest and neck. The bandit roared, punching both knights away in an explosion of fiery wind. He was no Spiralwalker yet clearly knew a few spells.

Shields of ice and holy light flared into existence. Catrise stepped forward, gauntlets blazing with frost and divine power—her hammer transformed into heavy fists—and delivered a blow that sent the bandit crashing into the ceiling.

BOOOM!

“Agh!”

He fell, groaning—only to see writhing shadows birth a pale figure with white hair, golden horns, and glowing yellow eyes. A spear of Ashen Frost impaled his chest mid-fall.

“W-What the…?! Who the hell are you—AAAGH!”

He thrashed desperately, but frost spread through his heart. In a final frenzy he swung his blazing axe, shattering Louis’s hastily conjured shield and engulfing the prince in fire.

“Nnngh…! Bastard…! Don’t think… I’ll die so easily!”

Burning and bleeding, the bandit crawled toward Louis. The prince rose calmly, skin charred, half his hair gone—yet his expression remained empty, as though pain no longer registered. After three deaths, something inside him had simply stopped caring.

“W-Wha…?”

An icicle punched through the bandit’s forehead before he could finish the thought. Frost spread over Louis’s body, extinguishing the flames. His ruined skin began to regenerate.

“You’re mine now. Soul Enslavement.”

FLUOSH!

Dark power surged. The corpse twitched, then stood—eyes blank, axe wreathed in ghostly flame. Louis shoved a handful of Fantasium pills down its throat. The zombie swallowed. An explosive aura erupted as its body swelled into a crimson-skinned, white-haired hulk.

“GRUAAAAH!”

The newborn titan charged. The leader of The Knife—the First Knife—rose to meet it, surprise twisting his features as a faint, ghostly silhouette began to manifest behind him.

The mark of a Spiralwalker: an Incarnation.

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