Chapter 32: Worm Pest Within the Walls
The mercenary patrolling the inner castle walls trudged carefully through the pouring rain. On any other night, he'd have slacked off on watch duty and caught some sleep, but a strange unease kept him awake. The fierce downpour, the oppressive darkness, and the empty village—it was an ill omen if ever there was one. The anxiety bubbling up now might not be just his imagination.
"…Please, just let the day pass without incident."
He pulled his waterproof robe tight and used a lantern instead of a torch. The chill from the rain had fogged the glass with misty condensation. The light was faint, but better than nothing.
"Hmm… Do we really need to patrol near the walls?"
His companion's words made the mercenary shake his head.
"You never know. Besides, this village… it's weird."
"…Don't say that. You have a weirdly good gut, and when you get anxious, it makes me anxious too."
They'd spent enough time together that the companion trusted him deeply. So when the mercenary voiced his suspicions, unease crept into him as well.
The mercenary who'd brought up the village shrugged playfully. "But it's just a hunch. I admit my instincts are sharp, but they're not foolproof. If something's up, they'd signal from the gates or the walls anyway."
The gates and wall tops were best for scouting outside. But on a pitch-black night like this, with clouds swallowing the moon and stars and rain lashing down, visibility was poor. Darkness blinded the eyes, and the rain dulled smell and hearing. Nature rendered humans helpless with ease.
The mercenary scanned around with his lantern—and froze.
"…Hey, check this out."
He thrust the lantern toward the wall. Stone piled high, cracked and crumbling from age, in dire need of repair. But that wasn't what caught his eye.
A massive hole gaped in one side. And clinging to it was some thick, viscous substance.
Staring at the black-stained wall, the mercenary and his companion tilted their heads.
The mercenary reached out, touched the surface, and pulled back. It stretched like cheese. And wriggling within the elongated black goo were red-tinged worms.
"…What the hell is this?"
As he frowned, a sharp pain stabbed his hand. The red worm had burrowed into his finger.
"What the…! What is this?!"
He flung his hand in panic. The pain vanished instantly, the wound gone without a trace. As if it'd been a hallucination—his hand bore only the black slime.
"…D-did I imagine that?"
He glanced at his companion, but the man had backed away considerably, face pale with an awkward expression.
"What're you doing?"
"Don't… don't come closer."
"Why? What's wrong?"
As anxiety drove the mercenary a step forward, his companion drew his sword.
"…!"
"Stay right there."
"What the…! Quit messing around!"
"This isn't a joke! Come any closer and I'll kill you!"
The companion glanced around—no one in sight. He pulled a small whistle from his pocket and blew. A shrill pik! echoed everywhere. The mercenary paled further. The tension and actions screamed anything but a prank.
"Why are you—urgh!"
Suddenly, the mercenary's stomach twisted. Dizziness hit, legs buckling.
"Wh-what…? Urgh…!"
He vomited everything in his gut. No—worse poured out. A heavy clot of blood oozed from his mouth, turning his face ashen like his companion's.
"Wh-what the hell… is happening!"
Pain throbbed through his body. His head spun too fiercely for thought. Fluids leaked from eyes, nose, mouth—then blood from every orifice. Skin paling as if drained dry, his body writhed with worm-like squirms in every crevice.
In agony, he begged for help.
"H-help… me…."
Pfsh!
But the outstretched hand brought no salvation—it ended him. A sword pierced through his mouth.
"S-sorry! I'm sorry! Really sorry!"
Face drained of color, the companion grimly shoved the blade deeper, then yanked it free. The mercenary crumpled like the dead.
"I-I have to warn them! This is… the plague! Why is Worm Pest here…!"
Trembling in terror, the mercenary—the survivor—knew it well. Worm Pest, the plague that birthed the undead. It parasitized humans, laying countless eggs inside, killing the host to seize and control the corpse. What emerged obeyed two instincts: hunger and reproduction. They devoured only humans, and when sated, bit to implant eggs in wounds. Lethal infection in under ten minutes.
"Now I get why the village is empty!"
With this plague, everyone would've fled without their belongings—no bodies left. These things sucked every drop of blood!
"…The Church! We have to tell the Holy Church! If the plague's spreading, the holy knights…!"
Then, something grabbed his ankle.
"…!"
The infected mercenary—or corpse—looked up with dead eyes and a smile. It crushed his ankle mercilessly.
***
The whistle pierced the air. Rapilta whipped toward the keep in shock. Guarding the gate, he couldn't fathom the sound from the inner walls with the main gate intact.
"What! What's going on!"
He yelled to the mercenaries atop the walls, but they shook their heads, clueless. Then screams erupted.
"Aaaargh!"
"…?!"
The wall mercenaries panicked, shouting hastily. "Go check it out! Blow the whistle if something's wrong!"
They vanished from sight. Rapilta stared ahead in alarm. From the village below the hill, a group approached steadily through the rain. Dark red skin, monstrous human shapes.
Rapilta's face turned to dirt.
"Worm Pest!"
***
The whistle, followed by screams. Loki frowned. The sleeping mercenaries stirred one by one.
Ajar burst from his room in a frenzy. "What! What's happening! My slaves…!"
Goods first, he demanded of the mercenaries. Still groggy, they turned to Loki. He'd patrolled inside—they assumed he knew more.
"What is it?"
Alber, now awake, gripped his sword tensely. Pol still slept beside him.
Loki had dealt with the slave-thieving mercenaries earlier, so he knew nothing.
"…I'll check."
He gripped the door handle. As he moved to open it, footsteps approached from beyond.
And—crunch!
The door splintered. A hand shot out, seizing Loki's nape.
"…?"
Inside the crow helm, Loki blinked in surprise at the hand. He'd barely sensed it. And the speed wasn't human.
…Not human. And the grip strength…
The red-skinned hand clamped his neck vise-like. Muscles writhed, nails gouging to tear. But no matter the force, Loki's skin stayed unscratched.
"What!? That's…!"
The startled mercenaries leaped up. Loki seized the arm choking him and twisted.
Crack!
The arm wrenched unnaturally, rotten black bone piercing flesh. Thick putrid blood spilled, along with unknown centipedes. They clung to Loki's arm, burrowing futilely—denied entry.
"Disgus—"
Before Loki finished, the door shattered fully. The monster lunged. Melted face, torn mouth yawning impossibly wide—beyond human jaw limits, as if to swallow his head whole. Rotten stench wafted with wriggling black masses inside.
Loki smashed it with his fist.
"…ting."
The skull exploded, spraying rot-blood and centipedes. Some worms thicker than fingers. The headless body collapsed but the hand clawed at Loki's ankle, trying to snap it. Loki stomped; worms slithered up in between.
Loathing the filthy things, Loki stepped back.
What are these…?
Not fear—revulsion. Brushing them off disgusted him. He tensed, and the climbers burst dead.
…Gotta wash later. What the hell is this?
"…Worm Pest…."
Someone's cry made Loki turn.
"How did the plague…!"
"My… God!"
"R-run…!"
"No, before that, that Nord…!"
The mercenaries paled. Pol, just woken by the noise, glanced bewildered between them and Loki—then saw the thick rot-blood on him, wriggling red worms atop. His face drained.
"…Infected."
Infected? Loki eyed the worms.
That what they mean? But…
Infection? Wait… is that the plague? But this is more like…
He studied the corpse.
…parasites. With a bit of mana inside…
The wriggling bugs held faint mana—immense relative to size. Enough to pierce human skin easily. They'd strained against Loki's, failing where nails couldn't. No way mere bugs pierced it.
Does getting these inside turn you into one of them?
Ha, ridiculous. Like some B-movie zombie flick…
Loki chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head.
"But…."
He frowned, senses probing the keep. Rain muffled it, but countless monsters already roamed inside.
…I didn't notice? Why?
Even with rain masking scent and sound, he should've sensed them….
"Because they're not alive?"
The headless corpse moved, yet wasn't alive. The worms were. Detecting them meant sensing the bugs.
"H-he's infected!"
"What do we do?!"
"Kill him! Kill it!"
Weapons raised, the mercenaries aimed at Loki.