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Devouring the finest flesh nutrients, a corrupted monster named the son of Lyle appeared on this land, rooted in the lifeblood like a parasitic flower. These creatures unfolded their wrinkled flesh petals, spraying an intolerable stench into the air as malignant mud oozed down the petals, revealing densely packed wailing missiles within. The four sons of Lyle emitted cries mixed with canine barks, as if celebrating their birth.
"How beautiful..." Mr. Crimson stood aside, stroking his chin as he watched this grotesque assembly of life's poison.
Such a thing, far beyond the aesthetic, even the members of the Necromancer Figure Club couldn't express approval.
"Plague Doctor is indeed rotten through and through." With such a bizarre creation, its creator must not be much better.
