Chapter 215: Chapter 215 – W-what’s This Creature?

The desert burned with madness.

“KILL! KILL! KILL!”

The cultists’ voices rose like a tidal wave, a chorus of insanity that drowned out the winds themselves. The night sky bled corruption, the ground quivered with their frenzy.

Luca slumped on the fractured sand, his breath ragged, his body screaming rebellion with every twitch. Saintess lay unconscious in his arms, her pale face pressed to his chest, fragile as porcelain. His blood-stained hands trembled around her, but his eyes—those crimson eyes—never left the woman standing before him.

The naked figure gleamed under the sick moonlight, her lips curled in a predator’s grin. Her violet tongue flicked across her mouth, eyes brimming with hunger as she looked at him not as a man but as prey.

Tch. Snake woman. She waited—she let two of her companions die before moving.

His gaze darted around the battlefield, his mind grinding desperately. Was my guess wrong? No… it couldn’t be. I felt it—I knew it. There was someone else here, something that hadn’t revealed itself till the moment he was gonna die before saintess arrived. But where?

Her laughter cut through his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes slid down to the unconscious Saintess in his arms. “She sacrificed her divinity for you? Well, well… Saintess of the Holy Kingdom, in love. How utterly amusing.”

Her aura crashed down upon him like molten lead. The sand beneath her feet cracked, trembling as waves of corrupted mana boiled the air itself. She tilted her head, mockery painted across her flawless face.

“You both can die together then. I am not in the mood to play around anymore.”

Her lips split into a grin too wide, too wrong. Her shoulders quaked as laughter spilled out—high, hysterical, jagged as glass. The desert rang with her madness, echoing across the corpses and broken stones.

Corrupted mana surged around her, thick tendrils coiling upward like a thousand writhing serpents. Her body burned with foul brilliance, her hand rising, ready to end it.

Luca’s chest tightened. His breaths quickened. Am I really mistaken? Is there no one?

His heart raced, panic creeping like frost into his bones. His grip on Saintess tightened as despair clawed at him.

And then—

The world tore apart.

From behind, massive hands erupted—gripping, crushing. Before the Seductress could even turn, her body was wrenched backward, a guttural roar tearing through the night.

“GRAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Big Bull.

Blood poured in a crimson fountain as his enormous hands ripped the woman in two. Her body split down the middle with a grotesque crack, flesh and bone tearing like wet parchment. Her laughter didn’t stop—it rose, shriller, higher—until her face, still smiling, fell slack as life fled from her mangled corpse.

Her blood rained down in torrents, painting the desert in gore.

Luca’s eyes widened, horror locking his breath in his throat.

“W-what… what is this…?” His words stammered out, strangled.

Big Bull stood amidst the ruin, his body shredded, injuries gaping—but even as Luca watched, the brute bent low and sank his teeth into the steaming corpse.

He drank.

The sound of tearing flesh echoed like thunder. Blood slicked his jaw, his throat bulged as he swallowed greedily. And before Luca’s eyes—the gashes across his chest began to close. His broken bones realigned, his flesh knitting, muscle reforming with sickening speed.

The blood healed him.

Luca’s stomach twisted, his body shaking. “H-how… can it… be?”

The beast raised his head, crimson smeared across his face, his eyes glowing like molten fire. His chest heaved, and then—

“EVIL. KILL.”

The roar blasted through the desert.

Big Bull leapt, crashing down into the midst of the cultists.

What followed was slaughter.

He moved like a storm of carnage, his mace pulverizing bone, his fists tearing bodies apart. He bit, tore, and smashed with feral abandon, each kill followed by blood spilled across his jaws. Screams rang in every direction—shrieks of terror, of agony—as cultists tried to flee, only to be caught, ripped, devoured.

“NOOO—AAGHHHH!!”

“HE’S A MONSTER!”

“HELP—HELP—”

Their cries were choked short, drowned in their own blood as Big Bull rampaged through them. Heads burst beneath his hands. Chests caved under his strikes. He tore a man in half, drank from the corpse, and hurled the remains into the screaming crowd.

The desert became a butcher’s pit.

And still he roared, every syllable a hammer against the heavens.

“KILL! KILL! KILL!”

The cultists’ chant of madness was stolen from their own lips, turned into his oath of annihilation.

Luca could only watch, frozen in horror, Saintess trembling faintly in his arms as the world dissolved into blood and screams.

Luca’s arms trembled as he held the Saintess tighter against his chest, his knuckles bone-white, blood slick between his fingers. His breaths came shallow, each one scraping his throat raw, but he could not tear his gaze away from the monster rampaging before him.

What… What creature is he?

His whole body quivered. His jaw clenched so hard it ached, but his lips still moved in a whisper that carried all his dread.

How… how did he heal himself? He wasn’t even able to move a moment ago…

“T-the rain of blood…”

His crimson eyes darted upward. The desert sky looked drowned—scarlet droplets falling like a storm, spraying across cracked sand and broken corpses. Every time Big Bull’s fist struck, a fresh geyser of blood painted the air. His wounds—gaping just minutes ago—stitched themselves shut with every mouthful of steaming gore.

Muscle knotted and twisted across his massive frame, bulging grotesquely, veins snaking black and red down his skin. His jaw unhinged as he roared, spraying blood from his maw like a beast unchained. With each corpse crushed beneath him, his body swelled, his rage doubled, his strength only grew.

Luca’s grip on the Saintess shook. His shoulders quivered, sweat mixing with blood down his face. His vision blurred from exhaustion and horror alike. How… how can this be?

And then—

“LUCAA!!!”

The voice pierced through the nightmare.

Luca’s head jerked toward it, his dim eyes widening, disbelief flickering in them.

Through the storm of sand and blood, a figure raced forward, green hair streaming wildly, crimson eyes burning bright. Her boots struck the sand with explosive speed, the air itself splitting around her movements.

“…S-senior Elowen?” Luca croaked, his voice hoarse, trembling with both shock and fragile relief. His lips curved into a faint, broken grin. For the first time in what felt like eternity, his chest loosened, just a little.

Behind her came others—Vincent with his cold, steel-like eyes; Aiden staggering, his sword still slick with blood; Selena limping, her frost-laced hands pressed to her side; Kyle dragging his spear with trembling arms; and Lilliane, her face pale, biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood as she pushed herself to keep up.

Their steps faltered on the blood-soaked sand, each of them battered and breathing ragged, but their presence struck Luca with the weight of a lifeline.

So… the academy sent Brother… and Senior Elowen…

Elowen dropped to one knee beside him, her hand immediately brushing across his bloodstained shoulder before shifting to the Saintess in his arms. Her sharp brows knitted as her crimson eyes searched his face, then the Saintess’s pale one.

“Are you okay?” she asked, voice steady but edged with urgency.

“I’m fine, but—” Luca rasped, his eyes dropping to the Saintess. His arms adjusted slightly, cradling her more protectively as though even the air might hurt her.

Selena, gritting her teeth against her own pain, rushed forward and pressed glowing palms against the Saintess’s body, cold steam rising where her mana touched her. Her face was tight with concentration, jaw clenched.

Vincent’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade—calm, clipped, merciless. “Where are the cultists?”

Luca turned his head slowly, crimson eyes heavy-lidded, a faint smirk ghosting his lips despite the blood dripping from them. He lifted his chin toward the battlefield.

“It seems…” His voice cracked, then steadied. “You are late.”

The group followed his gaze.

And then their breath stopped.

Elowen’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating as her lips parted in shock. Aiden froze mid-step, knuckles whitening around his sword. Selena’s focus wavered, her hand twitching against the Saintess as the sight reflected in her eyes. Kyle muttered a broken curse, his spear trembling in his grip. Lilliane stumbled back a step, one hand clasped over her mouth, eyes wide and wet.

Big Bull stood amidst the carnage, drenched head to toe in gore. His fists split skulls like fruit, his jaws clamped down on torsos and tore them in half. Screams rose and were cut short, drowned beneath wet cracks and crunches. His roars of “KILL! KILL! KILL!” rattled the desert, shaking the cracked ground beneath their feet.

“What—what’s that?!” Aiden’s voice cracked, disbelief shattering his composure.

“That’s…” Luca’s voice weakened, the faintest trace of a bitter smile curling his lips. His eyelids sagged, heavy, his arms still clutching the Saintess even as his body betrayed him.

“That’s Big Bull…”

His head tilted forward, body slumping. His vision tunneled into darkness.

“Luca!”

“Brother-in-law!”

“LUCA!!”

Their voices crashed together, desperate and sharp.

And then silence, as his eyes slipped shut.

***

Luca opened his eyes slowly as he muttered, “Is-is this afterlife?”

As a gentle voice sounded in his ears, “Are you awake?”

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