Chapter 38: The Corpse

To be honest, when Sister Maria described the birth of the [Root Serpent]—how it emerged from the fungal mat—the image alone was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. As they followed the black-robed nun deeper into the tunnels, drawing closer to the [Root Serpent], blotchy patches of black velvet-like fungal mat began to appear on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Strange little creatures—not quite insects, more like arthropods with many jointed legs—scurried across the fungal threads. These twisted lifeforms were tiny. At most a dozen centimeters long. Tyr, for one, seriously doubted that something so small, with its tiny chitin pincers and squirming limbs, could kill even a regular person—let alone seasoned hunters in the depths. But once again, the black-robed nun smacked him across the face—with the truth. “Symbiotic organisms spawned by the fungal mat—[Scorpion Weavers]. Their blood is extremely toxic. Just two drops entering the body can kill an adult within minutes in unbearable agony. Their sole purpose is to weave the mycelium strands across the mat. They live only twenty-four hours, then dissolve into the mat to serve as nutrients.” Her pale, slender fingers closed like iron tongs around one of the vicious little [Scorpion Weavers]. As Maria stared at the grotesque creature birthed by corruption, a glint of fury flared in her eyes. This was nothing short of blasphemy against life itself. She was overwhelmed with the urge to curse aloud. These idiots—slaves to the [Abyss]—had no idea just how terrifying this power was. A power that could mutate ordinary life into such freakish abominations on a whim. The deeper they went, the heavier the killing intent in Maria's heart grew. The [Abyss] stirred something unsettling in her memory—something that reminded her of the demonic force known as Chaos. And if she was right, the [Abyss] might one day become the gateway for Chaos to invade the mortal realm. “Your knowledge is astounding,” Phoenix muttered as he crushed a [Scorpion Weaver] under his boot. The black venomous fluid splattered outward with a wet squelch. Tyr winced immediately. Some of the vile liquid had landed on his boots. Just looking at it made his stomach churn. Maria responded to Phoenix’s praise with a faint smile. Much of her knowledge came from memories of a previous life, and ever since becoming a [Bloodbound Scholar], that knowledge had been refined, categorized, and weaponized to the fullest. RUMBLE—! A sudden, thunderous sound echoed from deep within the sewer. Instantly, everyone reached for their weapons. After a moment, they realized the noise wasn’t approaching their position. Only then did they allow themselves to relax—just a little. “Seems someone else has reached the [Root Serpent] before us. That’s the sound of paladins in combat.” Wielding hexagonal warhammers forged for purging the wicked, the Church’s warriors could crush a fully-armored knight with a single blow. Those blessed with strength—[Paladins]—were capable of creating such a shockwave in the narrow confines of a sewer. “There are guards near the [Root Serpent]! They must be fighting them now!” They all quickened their pace, hurrying toward the source of the noise. Maria searched her mind for everything she could remember. “Sister Maria, what do you mean by guards?” Ralph had long stopped hiding the folding crossbow at his hip. The deeper they went, the more useless that weapon felt in his hands. He glanced sidelong at Tyr with a look full of blame. After all, it was Tyr who had confidently pushed them to come down here, swearing up and down that the military-grade repeating crossbow—when powered by a steam source—would be a killing machine that guaranteed their safety. Tyr could only offer a sheepish chuckle under Ralph’s bitter glare. “Ahaha… well… mistakes were made.” “The guards are a different kind of lifeform… hard to describe with words. They’re extremely fast and prone to ambushes. You’ll understand when you see them,” Maria said, her expression turning odd. The more she dealt with the [Abyss], the more she realized how it violated her sense of aesthetic and sanity alike. The four of them picked up speed. As the fungal mat grew thicker and darker, they reached a complex bend in the tunnel—and there, leaning against the wall, was a corpse. The man had been a Church warrior, clad in clerical armor. He’d braced himself with his longsword, his lifeless face still frozen in an expression of resolve and devotion. The signs of battle around him were gruesome. With just a glance, the black-robed nun counted over a dozen deep sword marks on the walls and floor. Blood and foul-smelling pus were splattered everywhere. Maria examined the body and the surrounding signs. Soon, she had pieced together what had happened. “There were five of them. This brave warrior was ambushed. Something descended from above and pierced his lungs with a blade…” She pointed at the radial damage in the light armor—exactly where the lung would be. In her mind’s eye, she saw the moment the warrior advanced, only to be impaled by a creature dropping silently from behind. “He couldn’t retaliate in time. A comrade with a warhammer rushed to his aid… but missed.” She gestured at a deep dent in the wall to back up her theory. “Then chaos broke out. The attacker was incredibly fast… fast enough that—” Maria followed the trail of blood and claw marks ahead. Suddenly, she stopped, a troubled expression forming on her delicate features. “Fast enough that even a [Iron]-tier combatant couldn’t land a single hit. Or perhaps… they did hit it, but failed to do any damage.” She frowned. “This wasn’t a guard… This was a heretic from the [Kasath Reclamation Army].” Phoenix gently moved the fallen warrior’s body to a proper resting position. “Sister… prepare for battle.” His voice was lower now, as though he were suppressing a rising fury. Fighting heretics always meant bloodshed. Whether that blood belonged to the heretic or to devout believers, there was no avoiding it. They had long prepared to give their lives to the faith—but that didn’t make watching a comrade fall any less painful. “Tyr, Ralph—extinguish the [Radiance] and ready your weapons. Be prepared to support me. If I attack, light the [Radiance] immediately.” Lighting a holy flare in the darkness was a bad idea. The enemy was fast—terrifyingly so—and could blend into shadows. Keeping the [Radiance] lit would only make them sitting ducks. Far better to hide in darkness, and then blast the enemy with sudden light once their position was confirmed. Pull them from the shadows in a single, blinding burst. Maria had already formed a strategy. In the next encounter, she would make sure the enemy learned—firsthand—what it meant to face a [Bloodbound Scholar].