When Dorian regained consciousness, he found himself surrounded by a thick fog that reduced visibility to barely two meters.
"What happened? Haah… haah…"
His breath came in ragged gasps, as if every muscle in his body had been pushed to its limits. Licking his dry lips, he realised just how parched his throat felt; he was desperately thirsty. After swallowing hard, he managed to stand up.
Blinking a few times, he slowly began to bring his surroundings into focus.
As the fog started to come into proper view he couldn't help but make connections.
In essence, it was the same fog that had shrouded the outside world during his time confined within his house.
This is no mere coincidence.
The source of this thick fog was also the one responsible for his inexplicable confinement back then.
'So, that serpent made out of the thick fog was the cause of my entry into this world.' Or, perhaps, it was the serpent's master. Wait, did such a catastrophic serpent even have an owner? Why was he thinking along those lines? 'Ah…' he didn't have the answer.
"..." After a few moments of silence, he let out a long, weary sigh.
"So, where am I?"
Dorian was probably thinking of some kind of out-of-body experience after a big plot development in a webnovel and was going to meet the god or entity that summoned him into this world, but it wasn't that.
Dorian glanced down, realising he was still standing on the jagged metal surface of the great wall.
It seemed likely that the entire area around the wall, where the great serpent had swallowed, was now shrouded in thick, impenetrable fog.
A sense of unease settled over him.
Before, when he had been trapped in his house, the dense fog had only been outside. Now, however, there was nothing separating him from the vast expanse of fog, which appeared to bind everything in its shackles.
However, it would be inaccurate to say he was panicking. No, right now he was feeling strangely calm. But he did not know why.
Dorian started to evaluate his situation, contemplating a way to escape this swirling fog before he got trapped inside forever.
Rustle Rustle
Just then, suddenly, Dorian caught a faint rustling sound nearby. He moved his eyes and looked towards the sound's direction.
"..."
After a brief moment of hesitation, he decided to follow the sound.
Piercing through the thick fog with uncertainty and caution, Dorian walked towards the strange sound.
Dorian was uncertain whether he was moving too quickly or too slowly, but he soon arrived at the source of the noise.
On the ground, two men were locked in a fierce struggle with each other.
One on top seemed to be moving abnormally, like a frenzied animal, as he tried to bite into the other man's neck. The other one was obviously struggling not to let that happen.
Dorian couldn't be more specific about the situation, as the thick fog rendered the two figures blurry and hard to make out.
Without pausing to think, he took a few steps forward towards the struggling men.
However, what he discovered upon reaching them caused Dorian to seriously reconsider his decision.
...
Inside the cockpit of the giant cannon that had just devastated the Dreadwalkers moments ago, Commander Obyron struggled to sit upright.
Suddenly, almost as if possessed, he turned his head to the left.
A figure stood there, motionless, draped in a light silk garment embroidered with intricate patterns.
It was headless.
Or rather, where a head should have been was a deep wound from which bloomed a sunflower.
Greenish-grey vines clung to the place where the neck met the flower.
The enigmatic headless figure began to walk slowly toward Commander Obyron.
Obyron gasped, tumbling from his seat. In a frantic panic, he scrambled toward the escape hatch, hands clawing at the floor.
But he abruptly froze up, cursed under his breath, and looked up.
The headless man looked down on him from above.
Fear and confusion twisted Obyron's expression as his gaze darted around, desperate for anything, anything that could save him from this thing. He turned and pathetically crawled in the opposite direction.
Again, he stopped. Slowly, he looked up.
"...!"
His eyes met a blooming sunflower.
The headless man was crouched low, reaching out with his hands.
Obyron was certain this being had no eyes, yet he felt as though countless unseen ones were boring into him, stripping him bare. Every part of him lay exposed beneath the gaze of the headless man with the sunflower sprouting from his neck.
Obyron felt despair in its purest form.
His head buzzed with helpless, tangled thoughts until a sudden realisation struck him.
"You… you're one of the Headless Commanders of the Mirror Queen, aren't you?"
"..."
The headless man appeared reluctant to answer.
"Why? Why did the Mirror Queen attack us now, of all times? Is it because of that young man? You can have him! Take him! We don't need him. Just let me and my men live. We'll never interfere with your affairs again. Please… please…"
Unmoved by his desperate begging, tiny, indistinct vines sprouted from the headless man's outstretched hand.
They slithered into Obyron's mouth, nostrils, ears, and even the corners of his eyes.
Fresh blood burst forth as Obyron felt his brain being violated, as if writhing worms were squirming inside his skull, crushing and devouring the mushy flesh within.
He thrashed.
He clawed at the vines with trembling hands.
But more and more of them tore through his skin, burrowing into his flesh, shredding his organs one by one.
"Agahh… aga… haaah… agggg… kwwak… hagaaagg…"
His words dissolved into garbled noises.
Slowly, his movements became sluggish, his body decaying before his own mind could process it.
In the end, what remained was an unmoving mass of rotted flesh and bone, wrapped in greenish-grey vines.
Obyron Friscus, Commander of the 10th Ward of Wall-Guards, was dead.
As his lifeless body lay still, the headless man rose to his full height and looked down upon the corpse. He waved a hand over it.
Small sunflowers began to bloom from the corners of Obyron's eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils.
Though no sunlight touched them, the flowers bloomed brightly, fresh and alive.
In the dim light, the corpse stirred.
With a stiff, unnatural motion, it rose to its feet. Tiny sunflowers now covered its entirety.
It turned mechanically toward the escape hatch.
After tapping a few buttons, the hatch slid open, allowing a dense fog to seep inside.
Then it sat down and looked at the headless man. It looked as though he wasn't addressing his own killer but his master.
Giving him a single glance, the headless man stepped out of the cockpit, disappearing into the thick mist.
His pace was slow and deliberate, hands clasped behind his back, as if walking not through some foreign fog, but within his own domain.
...
It was a face with two eyes and a mouth.
But inside the hollow eye sockets were jagged, spike-like teeth. And outside the gaping mouth… was a bloodshot eyeball.
The moment Dorian looked at them, the eyeballs shifted and locked onto him.
A chill ran down his spine as he realised the number of people here wasn't two; it was three. And two of them were these grotesque abominations, looking as if they'd crawled straight out of the underworld. The third… was human.
…Probably?
"Help me! Please!" The man's voice cracked, yanking Dorian from his thoughts. "Please… there, please… take that crossbow and use it!"
Tears streamed down his face as he stared desperately at Dorian.
Following his gaze, Dorian caught sight of a faint outline of the crossbow lying nearby, shrouded in thick fog.
"Grrrr…"
The two monsters growled, low and menacing.
Dorian flinched, his body recoiling instinctively.
"…" The creatures' teeth gleamed as they stared at him with ravenous hunger.
Grinding his molars, Dorian made his choice.
As one of the monsters lunged, he pivoted sharply and bolted toward the crossbow.
The creature was, in all honesty, faster, and Dorian was still disoriented from blacking out earlier. Dorian was uncertain whether he'd make it in time.
He cursed under his breath and leapt forward, stretching his arms out.
…
What happened after that, Dorian didn't know.
When his mind cleared, he was gripping an abnormally large crossbow, and a monster's carcass lay sprawled over him. Blood gushed from it, soaking him to the bone. The entire left side of the beast was gone, vanished into thin air, as if its flesh and bone had simply ceased to exist.
The other monster, the one beside the man, turned to face Dorian.
Dorian levelled the crossbow at it.
Sheeek! Sheeek!
Two spears of light burst forth, striking the creature.
Before he knew it, the monster was obliterated, chunks of flesh and bone scattered, blood painting the metal floor in dark smears.
Dorian pushed himself up and approached the man.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes… I think. Just a scratch. Thank you for saving me."
The wound on his neck was deep enough that it could hardly pass as a scratch. But it did not seem fatal.
Dorian exhaled and relaxed slightly.
"Don't mention it," he said.
Only then did he recognise the man. He was the same subordinate Commander Obyron had left him with.
Dorian casually sat beside him.
"It would've been easier if I weren't cuffed."
The man shrugged. "Can't uncuff you even if I wanted to. They can only be unlocked by the one who put them on. The cuffs feed on their spirituality."
"…Is that so…." Dorian's shoulders sagged. 'So, the only one who can free me… is that guy Obyron.'
"Haaaaaah…" He let out a long sigh.
"Where are we?" the man asked.
"Inside the Great Serpent's belly," Dorian deadpanned, then smirked faintly. "Or that's what I'd say if I was an idiot. We're still on the wall, it's just… everything's enveloped in this thick fog."
"I see…" The man absently scratched his bleeding neck, lost in thought.
Dorian watched him, hoping he had some kind of plan.
But then something strange happened.
For some reason, the man's scratching grew harder. And harder still.
In the next instant, a massive chunk of flesh tore free from his wound and dropped to the ground with a wet slap.
"..." Dorian looked at it, dumbfounded. Then he raised his head and looked at the man.
The man didn't look in its direction, nor did he look pained by it. To be blunt, it felt like he didn't even notice.
He only looked at Dorian and said, "For now, we should head down. Let's find the elevator."
He stood abruptly and began walking. After a few steps, he stopped and glanced back.
"Come."
A shiver ran down Dorian's spine.
'What's happening?'
He opened his mouth to ask, but the man suddenly stepped toward him, extending a hand.
"Come… we need to go. Now."
Dorian's pupils widened. Against his better judgment, he took the hand and rose to his feet.
'The fuck…?' Dorian looked at the man who had just torn off his own flesh.
The man smiled and started walking.
Cold sweat trickled down Dorian's back as he followed from a cautious distance.
Behind them, the discarded chunk of flesh began to rot.
It convulsed - greenish-grey vines erupted from it, their tips budding into small, bright sunflowers.