Chapter 164 | Born as a Dragon, Sorry About That?

“Whirrr!!!”

With a wet splat, the roaring chainsword sliced a mutated spider falling from above in two, sending thick, bluish-purple blood and mangled internal organs raining down.

Just as the filth was about to touch her pitch-black hair, it was blocked by an invisible barrier, sliding down both sides of the barrier in frustration.

Yet, even though it had been split into two perfectly symmetrical halves, one half of the spider's body still clung tenaciously to life.

After hitting the ground, the remaining four pitch-black eyes on the half-spider head locked onto the culprit who had "killed" it, staring intensely at her indifferent face and those brilliant golden eyes filled with utter disdain.

“Hiss—”

Its halved mouthparts struggled to emit a muffled screech, accompanied by splatters of thick, viscous fluid.

Splat—

A mixture of dark yellow and purple fluids splattered everywhere.

A white high boot embroidered with gold patterns ruthlessly crushed the mutated spider's half-head, instantly cutting off its final cry.

Irene slowly withdrew her foot. She cast one last glance at the crushed head of the mutated spider to ensure the creature had entered a state of "apparent death" and was no longer a threat before her face twisted in disgust and aversion.

She shook off the bits of flesh and blood clinging to her chainsword and looked around, only to see the passage littered with the carcasses and severed limbs of mutated spiders.

Clearly, not a single mutated spider was left standing; every last one had entered a state of "apparent death."

Well... a successful first battle. For now, it doesn't seem to have attracted more mutated creatures. It looks like only this pack of mutated spiders was nearby, Irene thought. She casually cast a flame spell to ignite the chainsword, burning away the mass of mutated flesh clinging to it, and turned her gaze to the other two.

Arthas was currently using his ghostly blue soul fire to purge the mutated flesh from Frostmourne. His pitch-black armor was similarly covered in slowly squirming organic tissue, yet the white cloak on his back remained as pristine as new, untouched by even a speck of filth.

Beside him, spider carcasses were piled high like a mountain, nearly blocking half the passage.

On the other side, Christine exerted a bit of force to pull a silver spear out of the rock wall. The four or five mutated spiders that had been skewered through their heads like a kebab on the spear were casually shaken off, landing on the ground with dull thuds.

“Whew...” Having finished, Christine exhaled deeply. He leaned somewhat wearily against the cold rock wall, raising the hand that held his silver spear to wipe away the fine beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

This action smeared some of the spider blood that was stuck to the back of his hand onto his forehead, but he didn't seem to care.

Although the flesh of mutated creatures could infect and assimilate through the skin, it took time. Therefore, those infected through the skin were usually people who had accidentally let the mutated flesh contaminate an open wound, allowing it to enter their bodies.

As an adult white dragon, Christine had plenty of confidence in his skin's defensive capabilities. Knowing that this tiny bit of flesh wouldn't pose a threat to him anytime soon, he remained completely unfazed.

Irene, however, cast a few extra glances at him.

Christine's current appearance was indeed quite disheveled. Setting aside the large amount of flesh clinging to his body and his messy hair, the white thigh-high stockings covering his originally fair calves now had more than a few torn holes.

He no longer looked like the pure, noble elf he had been just moments ago.

Instead, he looked more like a heroine who had just escaped from a tentacle manga.

Out of consideration for various reasons, Irene spoke up with concern, “Miss Charlotte, are you... alright?”

As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Christine's ankle. A severed but still writhing segmented tentacle was tightly wrapped around it.

“Hmm?” Christine turned his head and noticed Irene's gaze. He froze for a moment, then waved his hand and squeezed out a forced smile. “I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. There's no time to lose. We should quickly look for the markers left by the Subjugation Army that Prince Herbert mentioned, and meet up with them!”

“No rush,” Irene said, sheathing her chainsword and looking down. “I think that before looking for the markers, Miss Charlotte, you should change into some clothes more suited for combat...”

“Huh?” Christine followed Irene's gaze and looked down, only to see a slimy, segmented tentacle "crawling" up his calf, about to slip under his skirt.

His expression fluctuated rapidly in an instant as some unpleasant memories involuntarily flashed through his mind. He grabbed the tentacle that had already crawled up to his thigh, threw it hard onto the ground, and stomped on it. In a fit of vengeance, he ground it repeatedly under the sole of his small black leather shoe.

He didn't stop until the tentacle was ground into a pulp. Only then did he lift his head with a look of immense satisfaction. Letting out a long sigh as if a great vengeance had been exacted, he turned to Irene and Arthas and said:

“It really is a bit inconvenient. Your Grace Irene, Lord Arthas, please wait for me a moment. I will change into something more suitable for battle.”

Without waiting for Irene's reply, he put away his silver spear and jogged around a corner of the passage to hide.

Hearing the rustling of clothes being removed from that direction, Irene looked away, her expression returning to normal as she turned to Arthas, who had walked up to her side.

“Let's search for the markers left by the Subjugation Army first. They should be somewhere nearby. Oh, and clean up these spider carcasses while we're at it, just to prevent them from suddenly coming back to life.”

“Yes, Mother,” Arthas replied with a nod.

Ten minutes later.

Having searched the entire area without finding anything, Irene looked over at Arthas, who was searching on the other side. Seeing him shake his head, she muttered in confusion,

“Why isn't there anything? The teleportation anchor is right here, so they should have left markers nearby. Otherwise, how would the reinforcements coming after them meet up with them?”

“Could the markers have been accidentally destroyed during the battle just now?” Irene's gaze fell upon the spider carcasses, which had already been reduced to a pile of ash. “Or is there another reason?”

She then looked toward the corner where Christine had disappeared. He's still not done changing after all this time?

With that thought, she slowly walked toward the corner where Christine had gone. At some point, all sound from that direction had ceased, leaving behind an eerie, unsettling silence.