Chapter 765: So, What Can You Even Do?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 765: So, What Can You Even Do?
Beneath the towering wooden spire, a long wall of thorns stretched to the left and right. The resentment of the wraiths adorning the outer wall washed over them like crashing waves.
Ahhhhh—!
An unintelligible whispering was overlaid by a low, rumbling melody, punctuated by a piercing shriek that cut through the cacophony.
It was a choir of evil spirits. The chorus of the thorn-shrouded wraiths rang in their ears, making their hearts pound with a heavy, rhythmic dread. It was a harmony of despair, fear, sorrow, and agony.
The ominous chord instilled a deep anxiety in all who heard it, a burning urge to either join the chorus or die rather than endure another moment of the sound.
Of course, that only applied to ordinary people. It did not apply to the Order of Madness.
"Man, that’s noisy."
Rem had already established his domain with sorcery. Even if he hadn't, there was no way he would be affected by the screams of such trivial things. He picked his ear with his pinky, pulled it out, and blew on it. Then, he tossed out a casual command.
"How about shutting up?"
Sorcery specialized in manifestation, and Rem’s specialty was pulling out whatever was needed at the moment and customizing it to fit the situation. No sooner had he finished speaking than a black shadow surged from behind his back.
Though no one present knew its origin, this shadow was possessed by a tiger demonic beast that had survived for over a hundred years in the Pen-Hanil Mountains. It was a creature that burned, chewed, and swallowed souls—the natural enemy of evil spirits.
Ahhh— ah, ah.
The sound from the thorn wall gradually died down.
The eyes of the wraiths, carved into the wood atop the wall, averted their gaze. Though they were mere wooden carvings lacking pupils or borders, the effect was unmistakable. The wall itself appeared to be struck with terror.
"Shh," Rem said, raising his index finger to his nose.
While Encrid stared blankly ahead, Teresa opened her mouth slightly and then closed it. She wasn't surprised; she had simply been about to step forward but stopped when she realized there was no need for her to intervene.
What Rem had done was a feat anyone would admire, but no one here was shocked to see it.
Of course he should be able to do at least that much.
Naturally, everyone's gaze shifted upward.
The towering tree was as imposing as any man-made spire. Its wide branches served as platforms, which was how the indigo-skinned elf had been able to roll aside and dodge the spearhead Encrid had thrown.
Nearby, a figure clad in black armor loosely lowered his shield. The metal bore a shallow dent from blocking the javelin Encrid had thrown with all his might.
Woo-woong-woong.
A vibration echoed from inside the visor—an unintelligible expression of intent. The fallen elf pushed off the ground with her hands and stood back up, her eyes snapping toward Encrid.
"You."
Though not quite in shock, her startled eyes glared at him with pure venom.
"It's embarrassing when you stare so hard," Encrid replied with a shrug.
Sinar chimed in from beside him in a low, cold tone. "How dare a rotten, decayed thing that cannot even become nourishment, holding only malice, look at anyone?"
Meanwhile, Luagarne took a few steps forward, deftly flicked her whip to retrieve the fallen relic javelin, and tossed it back to Encrid. Catching it with a clack, Encrid pressed down on the shaft, folding it back into its rod form, and secured it at his waist.
"They certainly made a noisy entrance," Ropode muttered.
"Do we cut that down?" Pel asked, pointing ahead. He radiated a fierce determination to hack through the wall or whatever else stood in their way.
"A mere ancient elf..." The demonic spirit hissed, completely ignoring the two of them to curse Sinar.
"Fruit only tastes good when it is ripe," Sinar retorted calmly. She even whispered to Encrid, "It is the way of the world that things taste better when aged."
Regardless of her anger, she was the type who had to say what was on her mind. That was the habit of Sinar's that Encrid had observed so far.
This was the Demon Realm, and what lay before them was the Thorn Castle—a structure rare even within these dark lands—yet no one was intimidated. They were beyond calm; they were practically leisurely. It was an attitude completely out of sync with their environment—a sheer, jarring dissonance.
"Look at these guys."
It was then that a man emerged beneath the spire tree and atop the thorn wall, staring blankly down at them. His skin was dark, but he still fell within the category of human, possessing an ordinary appearance one might see anywhere. He had brown hair and brown eyes. His only notable feature was his slightly large build, though he was still smaller than Audin or Teresa.
Since he was perched so high, his exact height couldn't be measured, but it could be estimated.
Encrid's gaze shifted toward him. Their eyes met. The man also seemed to quickly realize who stood at the center of the newly arrived group. Since Encrid did not think there were many humans living in the Demon Realm, he asked, "The Holy Land Cult?"
He knew that the heretics of the Holy Land Cult worshipped the Demon Realm. It wouldn't be surprising if some of them lived here. It was expected that some would remain on this side in addition to those active on the continent.
"The Holy Land Cult? Why bring up those retards? I am an apostle who serves the Red Foot."
Encrid didn't understand a single word the man said. What on earth was the Red Foot? A massive gap in information existed between the two, but neither had any intention of resolving the other's questions.
There was another peculiar thing about the man. Although he spoke the Imperial language, his accent was strangely distorted.
"Man, you talk too much," Rem chimed in.
"Do we cut him down?" Pel asked again.
Luagarne and Ropode had been searching for the entrance to the thorn wall for a while now. While the others conversed, those two were simply doing their jobs. Yet, no entrance was visible. Did they have to climb the wall every time they entered?
The demonic spirit glared at Encrid while clutching her longbow, and Sinar stared intently back at her.
"What is the Red Foot?" Encrid asked the man, ignoring his companions' movements.
Instead of answering, the man looked over the group and said, "The one who will become a god."
Even if I ask more, I won't get a proper answer. That was the conclusion Encrid’s intuition gave him.
"Right. I see," Encrid replied half-heartedly.
The man standing atop the wall sneered. "This is the Thorn Castle. And I am its lord."
"Yeah, looks like it," Encrid said.
As the man caught his breath, their voices echoed through the clearing. The man curled up one corner of his mouth and looked down at the group. His calm, casual tone was highly unpleasant. Speaking so leisurely in a situation like this was an insult in itself.
"So, what can you even do?"
Although the man's voice had grown quieter, it was heard more clearly than when he had shouted. It pierced straight into their ears.
"...Damn."
The group was momentarily speechless, but Rem was the first to react, marveling at the audacity. Look at this bastard, he's overflowing with confidence.
The man lifted his foot and tapped the wall lightly. It was a demonstration, as if to say, I have a wall, and you do not.
Encrid smiled. At times like this, he felt a certain thrill. There had been times when his skills were lacking, and he couldn't protect the people behind him. Such moments had happened more than once or twice.
'To achieve what you desire, what you need is strength.'
He had heard similar advice many times, and Encrid himself had reached the same conclusion. That was why he swung his sword. At certain moments, even when he swung with all his might, he had been unable to do anything. Yes, there were times like that—times when he was pushed around because he lacked strength.
But that was no longer the case.
That was why, looking at the man acting so cocky, he felt a sense of anticipation. What would happen when the foundation of that bastard's belief crumbled? He didn't know what the Red Foot was, but he could tell it was something comparable to the Holy Land Cult.
And hadn't Zoraslav warned him before they came here?
"You must be careful of the one called the High Priest."
Well, that was all Zoraslav knew. He was said to be the fellow who had taken people from the village multiple times.
"You're the High Priest, aren't you?" Encrid asked.
The man gently curled up both corners of his mouth. They rose so high they seemed about to touch the corners of his eyes. It was an abnormal smile, distinctly different from a human's.
Right, you wouldn't be an ordinary human either.
Since he looked ordinary on the outside, he was likely all the more removed from the realm of normalcy. After all, there was no way someone who built a castle like this and lived in the Demon Realm could be sane.
"You must have thought it was over once you broke through the Groomroot pack." The man chuckled. Behind his back, black soot billowed and took shape. It was a wingless shadow composed of monstrous muscles. Even though it was a shadow like black soot, its rugged contours were clearly visible.
"Absurd. Marcante burta han—"
Those last words were not directed at Encrid's group.
"Bur."
The response came from the woman atop the spire, the demonic spirit. She lowered her longbow and said, "Survive. Because I will be the one to kill you."
Her words were directed at Encrid. By some trick, even though she whispered from high above, her words were perfectly audible, despite the spire tree being so tall that one had to crane their neck to see the top.
"Do not worry. I shall protect you," Sinar countered.
"I feel like I've been the one protecting you the whole way here," Encrid said, turning his head blankly, to which Sinar offered a gentle smile.
"And that is why I was pleased."
Since she was so straightforward in expressing her affection, he had nothing to say.
Ahhhhhhh—
As the words of the man presumed to be the High Priest ended, the wall wailed once more. The chorus of the thorn-shrouded wraiths grew louder and deeper than before. At this level, even a knight would find it difficult to remain unaffected.
"Hmm." Ropode snorted. The grating sound vibrated sharply from his ears through his entire body.
"They're coming," Sachsen said.
Even without keen senses, it wasn't hard to feel their presence. From the left, right, and rear of the wall, black masses tumbled and rolled onto the ground, drawing closer. It was a pack of ghouls. Seeing their entire bodies stained black, the ghouls of the Demon Realm seemed distinctly different.
"Scream through the night. I shall use your shrieks as a lullaby."
The High Priest felt a surge of curiosity. Yes, let's see how long they can run wild. It's been a while since such interesting guests arrived.
That was why he added those words.
Encrid turned his head left and right, then looked at the wall and thought. What should we do now?
Cawww!
Meanwhile, overhead, three black birds large enough to easily carry off a grown man circled in the air. A few feathers drifted down from their bodies. Each falling feather was half the size of Audin's forearm. They were demonic beasts of considerable size—to be precise, they were modified demonic beasts, though no one present could know that.
Looking at the monsters and demonic beasts, Encrid knew one thing for certain.
If we had left this place alone, everyone would have died.
Even in this situation, he thought of the village of the Eroded. They had already wiped out all the monsters and small colonies outside. Because of that, they had protected a village of the Eroded tainted by demonic energy. However, monsters of a scale that made finding meaning in protecting them utterly pointless were teeming inside here.
As the ghouls approached, their appearances were also peculiar. Their necks and heads were covered in stitch marks. It looked as though their mouths had been sewn shut, and their skulls split open and pieced back together. It was clear that someone had experimented on the monsters.
Sachsen was the quickest to move upon seeing the approaching ghouls. In an instant, he took up a position behind one of them. He stabbed its neck with his stiletto and kicked its ankle, snapping the bone. Then, throwing stealth to the wind, he retreated, leaving afterimages in his wake. It looked as if a long line made of Sachsen was stretching out.
Black and yellow pus-like lumps swelled on the neck of the stabbed ghoul. The swelling lumps grew larger than the ghoul's head, expanding to nearly the size of its body, before bursting.
Pop!
With a loud noise, black and yellow pus splattered in all directions.
Sachsen had sensed something ominous the moment he saw the ghouls' irregular appearances and had moved to ascertain their method of attack. It was a timely and effective move. Now they knew that these creatures died by exploding with pus.
"The smell is foul," Sinar said, drawing her Leaf Sword by a span. A fragrance of flowers and forest wafted from the blade, but that alone was not enough to stop a horde of exploding ghouls.
They scattered plague in all directions when attacked. While they could resist it to some extent, the number of Plague Ghouls was simply too great.
Hehehe.
It felt as though that bastard's laughter from earlier was echoing from somewhere. Encrid watched the pack of ghouls charging toward them, some running on two legs, others on all fours.
There certainly are a lot of them.
"Audin."
"It is not my turn, brother," Audin replied.
"Ah, then Teresa?"
"Yes."
At Encrid's call, the half-giant stepped forward, her eyes calm and steady. She slammed her shield into the ground. Then, she stepped up onto the embedded shield, using it as a small, narrow platform. With this, her own small stage was set.
* * *
Once, Count Molsen had commanded a chimera unit. He had even tried to modify associate knights to raise them to the level of knights. And if one traced the origin of all those studies, they would find this man.
Would they make suitable test subjects for the plague ghouls?
Since it seemed the most prominent figures from the continent had gathered here, they would surely serve that purpose. The High Priest had hollowed out the ghouls' bodies and filled them with refined evil spirits that scattered plague. It was a feat possible only by dabbling in various fields, including spells, sorcery, and alchemy.
In addition, he had sent out modified crow demonic beasts, and there were also things like crystal armor knights.
Hold out longer and show me something amusing.
The High Priest sincerely hoped so. They would probably hold out for quite a while, wouldn't they? Then he would need time for things to mature. With that thought, he returned to his room to organize his ongoing research and ideas. Once night fell, it would be time for the monsters to run even wilder.
Inside the Demon Realm, even the sunlight turned ash-gray. Unless it was a Red Moon, even moonlight could not easily penetrate. Thus, the night of the Demon Realm was pitch black. In other words, it was a time when the humans outside would suffer even more.
A long time passed. It was just as he was about to get up, thinking he might go take a look.
Rumble.
He felt a vibration. The tremor was not small.
Screeech.
At the same time, the ahhhh song of the Thorn Castle turned into something resembling a shriek.
Ruuuumble.
The vibration grew stronger. It felt as though the entire castle was shaking. And that was no illusion.