Chapter 47: The Final Battle

Those who taint themselves with the power of the Abyss are destined to be swallowed by it in the end. Captain Moll had long known this. Especially someone like him—who harbored the Abyssal creature known as the Root Serpent within his own body. Even surviving in a grotesque form, half-human, half-worm, his days were numbered. Rotted muscle and decaying organs peeled off him bit by bit, while the greedy and malicious will of that thing constantly threatened to overtake his own. Staggering—he pushed forward in a desperate run! "Khak! Kha-khak!!" His body emerged from the pitch-black shadows, and Captain Moll instinctively covered his mouth. Cold, fetid blood mixed with chunks of torn viscera leaked between his fingers. He leaned against the wall, needing to rest. What you gain from the Abyss will never outweigh what it takes from you. He recalled the first time he accepted the power of the Abyss—those pitiful, lamenting eyes of the senior who watched him then. Perhaps at that moment, his fate had already been sealed. He would not die well. Struggling once again to rise, Moll sensed the presence of the final Root Serpent—it was close. At the very least… Let him finish this final task before death claims him. The sound of flesh scraping against walls, blood and pus dripping to the ground, and the weakening rhythm of his breath. Moll walked, step by grueling step. He had to hurry. If he didn't, Iron Nun Dolores would surely catch up. Even with his two comrades giving their all to stall her, there was no guarantee they could hold her off for long. That terrifying Iron Nun was simply too strong. As his consciousness blurred, Moll gradually lost all sense of time. He didn't know how far he had walked. When he came back to his senses, he was already slumped in the foul, sludge-filled drainage of the sewer. Though it was packed with waste and refuse, his own half-worm body was likely even more disgusting. Still, Moll wrinkled his nose in disdain and pushed some of the rotting trash away with his hand. "Captain Moll! You've finally arrived!" That voice? Moll strained his cloudy compound eyes to make out the figure ahead. It was Su, impeccably dressed, extending a hand to him. Without the slightest hesitation about Moll's wretched appearance, Su grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. He didn't even give Moll a chance to speak, pulling him forward at a brisk pace. "The Root Serpent is just ahead—I'll take you to it!" Moll opened his mouth, but he quickly realized his throat had been corroded beyond repair. Not a single sound came out. His mind was muddled, yet out of trust for his comrade, he ignored the faint, unnatural presences lurking around them. Or perhaps… he had sensed them—but chose to ignore them anyway. Then, just as they rounded a bend, Moll's relaxed expression froze in place. He slowly lowered his head. A glowing blade had pierced clean through his chest. Its cold light radiated despair. Had he not consumed so many Root Serpents, this kind of wound might have been manageable. But this… this was the final straw breaking the dying beast's back. His rotting, corrupted insectoid body could no longer suppress the rampant infestation of the Root Serpent. He gripped the blade with failing strength, but his limbs collapsed beneath him. "…I'm sorry, Captain Moll." Su's betrayal was clean and merciless—he stabbed Moll in the back and immediately backed away. And at that exact moment, in Moll's perception, the final Root Serpent's pulse was snuffed out. Like the last light guiding him in the dark… extinguished with a snap. He had been betrayed. How despicable. "Well done, Su." A voice laced with approval called from the shadows nearby—it was the black-clad nun, Maria. She had been hiding there all along, watching and waiting to ensure no loose ends remained. Prudence was a habit Maria had cultivated as a player—even a dying enemy was never 100% dead until you confirmed it yourself. "Thank you for the praise. Hopefully, this will stop Lord Phoenix from glaring at me so much." Su gave a helpless chuckle. If not for the overwhelming pressure from that Flame Warrior, he never would've been able to stab an old comrade with such a straight face. This game Fractured was far too real. So real that Su feared NPCs might now see him as a cold-blooded traitor. But on second thought… with the sharp divide between evil and good factions, maybe being this decisive would actually help him earn redemption faster. "...Ugh... d-damn you… nun...!!" Twisted mutant limbs dug deep into the muck beneath him as Moll, betrayed and broken, clawed his way upright from the filthy, reeking sewer water. His single remaining eye locked onto the black-clad nun with burning hatred. That raw venom in his gaze sent a chilling warning straight to Maria's instincts. Even in this state, he refused to die quietly. What terrifying tenacity. "Rest in peace… you faithless man of dignity." With a graceful lift of her hand, the black nun's slender fingers began weaving a complex, silent ripple in the air. As Maria guided the flow of power, one sacred scroll after another lit up in the sewer's gloom with searing golden brilliance. So many of them—nearly flooding the entire space with the light of divine magic! Just to be sure, Maria had no qualms about borrowing the Flame Warrior's support to grant this final enemy a spectacular, blazing demise. "Then die… with me!!" On the brink of death, Moll surged forward with a final burst of strength. His insectoid body leapt from the ground like a spring-loaded trap! His grotesque form ballooned in midair like a wad of bubblegum expanding to its limit! At the exact same moment, Maria's final glyph completed. Blinding gold light erupted like a divine flood, piercing down upon Moll's bloated body—now a living bomb. With a deafening pop, his corpse exploded like an overfilled balloon, spraying flesh, rot, and pus across every inch of the tunnel! The resulting spray of tainted fluid—infused with deathly contagions and corrosive toxins—had terrifying properties. Each drop of pus was a miniature viral core! These were the distilled remnants of four juvenile Root Serpents—the filth alone was unimaginable. Even a Silver-rank Transcendent wouldn't be immune to that kind of infection. Holy light clashed with Abyssal filth. In that narrow corridor, the two forces sizzled as they annihilated one another, white steam rising from the carnage. "The only one dying here—is you, you unclean lost soul!" The black-clad nun's voice rang with unshakable faith. She stood boldly at the front, unmoved by the creeping spread of rot that threatened to burst through her divine light. She would see to it that he was buried, body and soul. ✦✧✦ ???? 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