"Sneaking out again, huh?" Valcroy giggled as he spoke, glancing at the great wall beside him. They had just slipped past Iron'Heits. Sure, the guards were on high alert, with everyone's nerves stretched thin, but with the help of invisibility talismans—courtesy of the nobles—getting past them wasn't an issue.
Valcroy looked up at the towering wall, over 50 meters tall, and marveled at its construction. But remembering the earth mages who had shown their might in the Frostborne house, he realized it was entirely doable.
They didn't linger long and quickly resumed their trek. The invisibility spell was about to wear off, so they needed to get as far away as possible.
Erik had once again handed all responsibilities to Collum, using the excuse of perfecting his inner organ tempering. Collum had no choice but to accept, though he might have been slightly opposed to it. But what could he do?
So, according to Collum and everyone else, they were training in the Crucible of Endurance, while in reality, they were out doing something reckless. Reckless to the point where they might lose their lives if their hunch turned out to be wrong.
Soon, the invisibility effect wore off, revealing two figures cloaked in robes that concealed their entire beings. Erik stood on a hill, looking down at the battlefield, the sun behind him as it started rising and it shone brightly, revealing the devastation. He could see the marks the creature had left behind. He felt a sense of relief, having no mercy for the alliance army, especially after hearing of their massacre of tens of thousands of his people.
Honestly, he shuddered when he remembered the creature swarming the soldiers and devouring them like they were nothing. But he got over it when he saw Valcroy walking away, his face showing only curiosity. Erik shook his head and followed.
They were still a distance from the forest and needed to travel for at least an hour before they could reach the tunnel. After all, what good is an escape tunnel if it opens right next to the front gate?
As they traveled, they came across their first corpse. Erik's eyebrows furrowed, and Valcroy frowned as he looked at the dissolved face of the person. It was as if someone had used a potent acid, even disintegrating the bones. With just one touch, it crumbled like burnt paper. Must have been the whale's doing.
They stared at the corpse for a moment before continuing, though Valcroy was clearly uncomfortable. His eyebrows remained tightly furrowed, but he maintained control.
Erik nodded inwardly, approving of Valcroy's composure. But just five minutes later, they heard...
Chomp* Chomp*
Grr!*
Something growled as it ate, performing both actions simultaneously. They immediately became vigilant and drew their swords. Valcroy held a common sword, prompting Erik to make a mental note to get him a better weapon. Erik himself wielded a gold-ranked sword.
The closer they got to the source of the noise, the louder it became. Valcroy wondered how something could make that much noise while eating. Soon, they stumbled upon a gruesome scene.
Body parts were strewn about, bite marks and missing pieces making the sight nauseating. They turned their attention to the creature, which was busy biting into the neck of a dead body and tearing off pieces of flesh.
Valcroy felt a wave of repulsion and wanted to eliminate the humanoid creature, but Erik stopped him. "Can you feel it?" Erik asked.
Valcroy didn't know what Erik meant and looked at the creature again, trying to "feel" what Erik was talking about. Suddenly, his eyes changed color, the irises slowly shifting like a chameleon's, but he didn't care—he was focused on what he had missed. Then he saw it: a red aura emanating from the creature.
"Hmm?"
He moved his hand, and the creature mimicked him, stopping its actions and raising its hand. Valcroy commanded it to stand, and it did.
"Isn't this like that guy... what was his name again?" Valcroy scratched his head, which the infected mimicked. Erik just stared, took a breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, the infected spoke, "Senva."
"Oh right, Senva. Wait, what?" Valcroy said, startled, as he looked at the creature. It had now drawn a sword from somewhere and was walking toward him. Valcroy frowned, and the infected dropped the sword, but before it could hit the ground, its other hand caught it in one smooth motion. "Not bad," it said.
But the voice came from two places, making Valcroy turn toward the second source—Erik, who had a sly smile on his face.
"You had me worried there, young master," Valcroy said, relieved.
Erik was controlling the infected creature, finding it felt like an extension of himself. It was a strange sensation, but it was as if he were moving his own body.
Soon, the creature stood before them, its hair a tangled mess, stained with blood. Its face was also smeared with red, and its eyes glowed like rubies.
Erik felt a sense of satisfaction; he had finally achieved the same level of control as Valcroy. Not that he knew why he was even competing. But there was something still different, it was like his body couldn't grow accustomed to this new mana. He still absorbed the regular mana from the atmosphere because of corrosive nature of Black mana.
After making the creature somersault, stand on one hand, and perform various other exercises, they decided to take it with them. Repulsive as it was, the creature had its uses. It might be needed where they were going, and they intended to exploit it fully. Erik used the creature's sight to scout ahead as they moved cautiously, ensuring there was no imminent danger.
The infected proved to be an excellent scout, making Erik wonder why he hadn't thought of this before. But there was no point in crying over spilled milk.
Soon, the infected stood before the tunnel. Erik squinted as he scanned the surroundings, finding nothing but bodies. But he paused at one of them, feeling a stinging pain in his chest. He looked at the massacre and couldn't help but feel rage, along with a twinge of guilt.
"Why did you make me do this?" he thought, clenching his teeth as he looked at the wide-open eyes and rotting flesh. He didn't know what to say—an apology seemed too late. He could've done better, but that would be hypocritical.
For a while, he was lost in thought. But Valcroy wasn't. He felt pure anger as he saw what Erik was seeing through the infected's eyes. He recognized many of the faces, including the merchant from whom he had bought a pair of necklaces.
Valcroy walked forward with heavy strides, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He knew Erik had sent these people out and knew they had been massacred, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely. The gruesome sight burned into his mind, waking him up to the harsh reality.
Would he blame Erik for this? Maybe, but he wouldn't go so far as to hold him entirely responsible. The people had been manipulated by the nobles, tricked into believing they'd be safer if they left the city. Erik hadn't wanted them to leave—he knew the dangers. But when one of them tried to kill him, something in him snapped, and he let them go.
Valcroy's anger was mainly directed at the nobles, the true instigators. He believed that while the people had been misguided; they had made their choice. It was a tragic outcome, but Erik hadn't intended to harm the innocent—he just couldn't see another way at that moment. If he had kept them inside, they might have dragged others down with them. But this was just Valcroy's way of justifying Erik's actions. He wouldn't fully blame Erik because he knew Erik's intention had never been to harm the people but to eliminate those who had deceived them. Which decision was the right one? That was something even Valcroy couldn't answer.
Both remained silent as they watched the infected creature walk into the tunnel and approach the puddle of blood—the red gateway from which the creature had emerged.
The infected stared at the crimson puddle, so still that it reflected its own image. It kept its eyes on the puddle, but nothing extraordinary happened.
Erik and Valcroy, however, felt something different. As soon as they looked at the puddle, their bodies resonated, humming as if being called closer.
Erik became vigilant, but Valcroy didn't. His eyes were still on the corpses that littered the ground, telling the tragic story of the massacre that had stained these walls. His thoughts were scattered. He remembered the corpses he had seen in the crimson world. His body shivered, his vision blurred—he was on the verge of another panic attack.
But then he felt a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his stupor. He looked at Erik through his blurred vision and saw the sorrow on his face. Erik opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, at a loss for words. He couldn't claim ignorance—he was the one who had told the Alliance about the tunnel.
"Let's go," was all Erik could manage as he moved forward, his shoulders heavy. Valcroy followed, his thoughts unclear. Both kept their heads low, each feeling a sense of responsibility for what had happened.
The gloomy atmosphere lingered as they entered the tunnel. After walking a little further, they stood before the puddle of blood. The air was thick with the metallic smell of blood mixed with the stench of rotting corpses. It was nauseating, but they both held it
Their eyes were completely focused on the puddle, which was large enough for all three of them to stand in. The humming inside both their bodies grew stronger, and soon they felt as though their cells were vibrating, almost as if they were about to alter their molecular structure. It was a warm and strange sensation.
The three of them stood there for a moment, Valcroy and Erik contemplating their next move while the infected just stood idly by.
After a bit more thought, Erik waved his hand, and suddenly...
Splash!
The infected leapt into the puddle, sending a spray of blood that drenched both Erik and Valcroy. Valcroy stared at his soaked clothes in disbelief, then turned to Erik. "Was that really necessary?" he seemed to be asking silently. The infected could have walked in slowly, after all—why the dramatic leap?
But Erik wasn't paying attention to Valcroy. He was focused on what he was seeing through the infected's eyes. To his surprise, it was as if the infected was traveling through a tunnel filled with blood-red water. But just as the scene began to clarify, a bright light flashed.
Both Erik and Valcroy instinctively closed their eyes. When they opened them again, they found themselves staring back at the puddle of blood. Their connection to the infected had been severed.
Valcroy, confused, looked to Erik for an explanation. Erik shook his head, equally puzzled. He reached out mentally to check the string that connected him to the infected, and to his relief, it was still there, though it moved lazily as if the creature was in a different state of being.
Erik didn't know exactly what had happened, but he had two theories. Either the infected had died while passing through the blood tunnel—a theory he dismissed upon noticing the string still active—or their connection had been cut because the infected had entered a different dimension, like a pocket dimension, which severed ties to the outside world. There could be other explanations, but without more information or tools, he couldn't say for sure.
Now they faced a dilemma: should they jump in and follow the infected? It was a dangerous decision. If something went wrong, both of them could lose their lives. Erik was still weighing the pros and cons when suddenly...
Splash!
Another wave of blood washed over him. Erik stared at the rippling puddle in disbelief, stunned by Valcroy's recklessness. He couldn't help but wonder why the Frostbornes were called reckless when there was clearly someone even more reckless standing right next to him. After a brief moment of exasperation, he sighed and muttered to himself, "If he dies, I die."
Sharing a heart really had its downsides.
And with that, Erik took a deep breath and followed.
Splash!