“Swoosh.”
The whistling sound of a sharp blade slicing through the air echoed from behind. Another ghoul had caught up, its five sharp claws raking down like daggers.
Before him was a wounded ghoul needing a finishing blow, and behind him were claws about to slice him to pieces. Without a second's hesitation, Lynch pressed his body as far forward as possible while funneling all his strength into the cane, plunging it ruthlessly into the injured ghoul.
Lynch felt the blow first. Though he had pressed himself against his target to gain distance from the claws behind, he failed to escape their reach entirely. A cold chill swept across his back, followed by a sharp tearing sound. A stream of warm blood trickled down his spine, and his strength seemed to drain right out with it.
He didn't feel much pain, but his heart sank. He knew he was in grave danger. He had read about this in novels: when injured, feeling no pain was far worse than feeling it—especially if you could still move normally. It meant the injury was so severe that the body had been forced to secrete a massive surge of adrenaline to compensate.
This injury is bad. I'm screwed.
Yet at that exact moment, his cane sank completely into the ghoul before him, entering through the neck and driving upward into its brain.
The monster's body jerked rigid. Its limbs twitched violently, and with two muffled grunts, it went completely still. Simultaneously, an eerie sensation arose. In the palm gripping the cane, Lynch felt a foreign presence, as if something had been forced into his hand.
In a flash, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed an orb the size of a ping-pong ball in his hand. Intangible yet semi-solid, it emitted an eerie crimson glow.
What is this?
A spark of realization struck Lynch. He recognized where this came from.
It was the special effect of Blood's Temptation: Blood Extraction.
Instinctively, he squeezed his fingers around it. It felt like a water balloon—soft with a bit of give—and with a little extra pressure, the crimson orb burst open. Red light flared around Lynch as a searing warm current poured from his palm, instantly sweeping through his entire body.
His mind surged with excitement, as if he had been injected with a stimulant. A cozy warmth spread through his body, particularly across his back, which grew hot to the touch. His rapidly draining strength returned in force. Leveraging this surge of energy, Lynch twisted his body sharply, slipping beneath the raised claws of the ghoul behind him and nimbly circling to its rear.
“Boom!”
Behind him, Miss Valente's eyes turned bloodshot. She lunged forward two steps, pressing the muzzle of her weapon against the ghoul's back before pulling the trigger.
“Mr. Levive, hold on, I'm coming to... Huh?”
A wave of sudden heartache had barely welled up in her chest before she saw Lynch dart out from behind the ghoul, alive and kicking. As he passed, he even delivered a reverse kick to the ghoul's back, shoving it forward to crash onto its fallen comrade's body.
“Is your wound alright?”
Miss Valente's face lit up with joy, and she immediately caught Lynch as he stumbled over. Her eyes fell upon his back, where three massive slashes tore through his clothes like gaping mouths, surrounded by smeared blood. Fortunately, the wounds did not appear too deep, though his skin was unnaturally pale.
“Bad, very bad.”
Lynch felt brimming with energy, but his eyes burned and an unbearable thirst gripped his throat. Looking at the open wound on the ghoul's back, he felt a sudden urge to pounce on it and suck its blood. Only the sickening dark-brown pus oozing from the monster's wound allowed him to barely suppress the craving. Grabbing Miss Valente's hand, he turned and fled, not even bothering to finish off the remaining ghoul. Cracking noises were already echoing from the corridor ahead; delaying any longer meant guaranteed encirclement from both sides.
Yet the moment he burst forward, a tearing pain shot from the wounds on his back, slowing his stride. Before he could recover, the silhouette of another ghoul pounced out from the depths of the temple.
“Leave it to me!”
The injury had dulled Lynch's dodge by half a step, leaving him unable to evade the strike. Miss Valente suddenly accelerated, placing herself in front of Lynch to block the ghoul's path.
Taken off guard, Lynch collided right into her, nearly knocking her over. Realizing her intent, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her tightly against his chest while pivoting his body to press his back against the wall.
Bang!
The moment the ghoul struck, the radiance of the Shield of Piety flared brightly. Though the shield shattered in an instant, the repulsive force knocked the ghoul backward through the air.
Lynch grunted in pain. Though his advance preparation transferred the shockwave into the wall, acting as the medium still left his chest tight and stars dancing in his eyes, while a blistering pain flared from the wounds on his back.
“Don't do that. We're not at a dead end yet—no need for self-sacrifice.”
Lynch released Miss Valente with a pained expression. Spinning on his heel, he lashed out behind him with his cane transformed into a segmented whip. The sweeping attack of the serrated whip proved devastating; the ghouls pursuing them were struck full-force and thrown back, tumbling into a squirming heap on the floor.
“I know, I was buying time. Bear with this!”
Miss Valente dropped all honorifics. Before Lynch could even process what he was supposed to bear, her palm slammed squarely onto his wounds. Suddenly, radiating from around the wound—whether from his muscles, internal organs, or bones—an excruciating mix of pain and itchiness burst forth, as if millions of ants were crawling over his raw flesh.
【Authority, Compassion, Ability, Rapid Healing.】
It activated the body's potential, exchanging a hundredfold energy consumption for a hundredfold wound-healing rate.
Lynch let out an involuntary scream, barely managing not to roll around on the floor. Miss Valente hauled his arm over her shoulder and dragged him deeper underground while the ghouls ahead were still waking up. As she turned, she tossed two orange conical flasks behind them.
Lynch felt as if he were seeing the crimson moonlight again.
The intense, agonizing sensation lasted only a few seconds, yet to him, it felt like ten thousand years of torture. He felt as though he had nearly returned to Lady Red Moon's embrace once more. Only when the unbearable stimulation finally subsided did he manage to stand steady on his own feet. “That was intense... Holy shit.”
The moment he regained his balance, the sound of shattering glass echoed from behind—the flasks Miss Valente had thrown. Before Lynch could realize what had happened, a fiery heatwave slammed into his back, accompanied by an ear-splitting explosion.
The two small flasks triggered a massive blast. The ghouls pursuing them took the detonation point-blank to the face, screaming as they were blasted backward along their path, rendered unable to threaten the duo for the moment.
What on earth is this girl carrying? Does she have a third ability called unlimited wealth?
Just as the thought crossed Lynch's mind, the shockwave reached them. Fortunately, the force directed toward them was much milder, giving them a powerful push forward that propelled them to top speed.
There was hope—the explosion had cleared a path!
Relief surged in both of their hearts as hope flared, but before a smile could even form, a continuous cascade of cracking noises echoed from the depths of the corridor.
Dammit, the shockwave accelerated the ghouls' awakening!
Hope quickly turned into despair. The moment the cracking sounds ceased, more than a dozen ghoul silhouettes charged out from the deep corridor, while countlessly more enemies lurked within the hazy green light.
This was trouble. Against enemies in such numbers, if they got close, thinking they could survive three seconds without being torn to pieces would be sheer delusion.
Lynch let out a deep sigh. Seeing Miss Valente whip out two more flasks of explosive secret medicine, he knew that wouldn't solve the underlying problem. It was time to pull out his trump card.
He only had one trump card, which he had intended to save for when he faced Mordiggian's avatar directly. Using it now might leave him in a deeply awkward spot if time ran out later. But there was no time to second-guess himself. Before the ghouls could close in, behind his back rose... Huh?
Just as he was about to activate it, an overwhelming surge of intense dread flooded his heart. A sharp, continuous throbbing pierced between his eyebrows—his mystery intuition screaming a wild warning.
It felt as though a silent roar was bursting forth from the depths of the corridor.
Before Lynch's conscious mind could process it, his body reacted on instinct. Wrapping his arms around Miss Valente, he threw them into a continuous roll, tumbling straight into the corner of the corridor.
In the next instant, a massive tentacle condensed from thick green fog roared out from the depths of the passage like a steam locomotive. The tentacle filled more than half of the corridor, bowling over every obstacle in its path. It grazed past their backs, its tip surging toward the entrance.
Their hearts nearly skipped a beat. Pale-faced, they exchanged a glance, both realizing that this was likely a part of Mordiggian's avatar. However, the entity seemed not fully awakened yet; paying no mind to the two sacrifices, it surged forward for reasons unknown.
Wait, sacrifices?
Lynch suddenly realized that he had just killed a ghoul, and immediately after, this thing had burst forth.
Could it be that anyone or anything that dies in this temple becomes its food, regardless of whether they're a sacrifice or a follower?
If that was truly the case, then perhaps... they still had a chance.
Huddling in the corner of the wall with Miss Valente, Lynch's mind raced. He leaned in and whispered in the young noblewoman's ear, “I have a risky idea that might get us straight to our destination. Want to gamble with me?”
“We've already made it this far together. What choice do I have?” Miss Valente shrank behind Lynch, her face tense yet resolute. “What are we doing?”
“You high aristocrats have probably never hitched a ride before, have you?”
Beside them, the green-misted tentacle stopped extending, then began pulling back at the same terrifying speed. Lynch's lips curled into a faint smile as he murmured:
“Care for a ride, Miss?”
In the next instant, the tentacle swept past right above their heads, dragging along the dead ghoul Lynch had slain.
Rate on N.U.
