Chapter 57: Blood Quest
The ambush couldn't have gone cleaner. He'd watched, studied, and waited...Seo-jin's memories giving him the last edge he needed. The plan was simple: let them burn their ultimates, then strike.
Every shard user above a certain level had one. Trump cards. Lifelines. Skills with a price, usually a day-long cooldown, same as Savage Feed.
He'd wanted them all spent, but with only the scaled brute still holding his, the window opened. Azakh-Tur didn't waste it. One bite erased the biggest threat before the man could even swing.
Now, only scraps were left.
Through the Brood Link, he felt Pain and Panic circling back toward him. That meant the herd was down another. Only two humans remained. Looking to the Sentinels, their intention to stay put and heal obvious, he decided he had time. He could play.
He stepped toward the fire user. Cleavers dragged stone, his voice steady.
"Who did you contract with? Speak. I'll let you breathe a little longer."
Nox froze, eyes darting between his UI and the blades closing in, especially the one that rose to point at him.
"That fire… those embers somehow feel familiar."
The boy's fear bled through every twitch. Fingers shook, breath stuttered. Inexperience written all over him. Still, he spat out his answer, clinging to false bravado and hope.
"D-Demon—Demon Lord Skaal'ar! I'm contracted to him! If you touch me, he'll—he'll hunt you d—!"
Azakh-Tur paused, eyes narrowing.
"Skaal'ar?"
Seeing the flicker of reaction, Nox leaned in, desperate.
"Yes! Demon Lord Skaal'ar. Since you know him, then you should—!"
"Big bastard? Skull-face, too many teeth, weirdly obsessed with peeling skin? That Skaal'ar?"
The bravado cracked. Nox's confidence quickly began to waver.
"Y-yeah… and he's my backer. So if you let me live, I'll make sure he never—never finds out about this."
Azakh-Tur's expression shifted, brow tight one moment, eyes wide the next. He felt something. Something that made his gut twist, but in a good way. He was actually surprised when he started laughing uncontrollably, deep and jagged, a sound that didn't belong in a throat, but felt amazing for the soul.
Joys were often cut short.
"Shut up!"
The voice strained, begging with rage, followed immediately by the chamber shaking from a high-pitched roar. It ripped out of Baba-Yaga, not her mouth but the hollow inside her chest, her aura splitting wide with the sound.
"Nox! You filth! You useless fucking excrement! My children... all of my work! Dead, because of you!"
Azakh-Tur's brow knotted. His pride was hurt. For a moment, he felt dismissed, but the thought vanished as something inside the old woman swelled. The sounds of her ribs cracking made his skin tingle. Bloodlust, thick enough to choke on and sweet enough to drink spilled from her like a rolling fog.
"My children… my beautiful children—gone! All of you will pay! You thought you could cheat me?! Put on some trick, some performance, and I wouldn't see it?! You and your little demon… the Sentinels… this whole dungeon—you're already dead!"
Her shriek cut through the cavern, but what answered wasn't just fury. It was power clawing its way out of her, splitting skin, spilling sickly orange mana in waves.
Azakh-Tur's lips peeled back. He had misread her. When she'd poured down potions and her centipedes had surged with strength, he had thought that was her trump card. That she had been at her limit.
Now he knew. That had only been the surface.
"Finish the human while I deal with this."
For a heartbeat Nox thought the demon was talking to him. Then the broodlings turned, eyes fixed, teeth bared. His blood froze. He bolted, feet slipping, tears beginning to fall.
"No! Someone—Stay back! Help—!"
Their screeches cut his escape short. Behind Azakh-Tur, the boy's scream split high and thin. Flesh tearing, bones snapping. The sound chased him as he turned toward the true threat.
Pressure slammed into him, a weight so heavy it made the stone shudder. The frail old crone was dissapearing; something inside her was clawing free.
His easy meal was fighting back.
Butcher's Wrath vibrated in his hands as the broodlings tore into the twitching boy behind him. Nox didn't last long. The old woman's body swelled, aura spilling from her like broken dam. Too much power. Twisted.
He glanced at the two bears...still bleeding, still mending, then back to the aura bleeding out ahead. The AP from leveling when he killed Jackle shoved where it mattered most.
[AP // 3 -> 0]
[STR // 26 -> 29 D]
[VIT // 25 D]
[AGI // 33 C]
[INT // 14 E]
[FLH // 23 D]
[WIL // 17 E]
With Hellfire burning and Butcher's Wrath drawn, every swing now tore for 102–105 damage. Enough to split any F rank in half.
He didn't wait to see what she birthed. His claws dug into stone as he lunged, cleaver aimed for her throat.
Baba-Yaga smiled, even as the blade cut.
"Filth-spaw—"
Steel bit deep. Her neck severed in one clean stroke...
"...Huh?"
No notifications. No system chimes.
Hitting the ground with a wet crunch, her head rolling a few feet before settling. He moved to cleave the body again—but a new sound turned his attention. Spindly pincer-legs sprouted from the severed head, skittering fast across stone. His claws twitched to give chase, but in front of him the corpse buckled, then collapsed inward on itself.
"Shit—"
The crones body didn't just collapse, it also detonated. Flesh sank, bones cracked inward, organs burst like rotten fruit. The sound was wet and grinding, a stomach-turning mix of suction and splintering marrow all grinding to a moment. The implosion punched the air out of the chamber, a shockwave rolling stone and dust.
Skidding back on his claws, his feet dragged trenches across the floor before he caught himself. Pain and Panic slammed in beside him, crouched low, hackles raised, eyes locked on the swelling carcass.
Even the Sentinels froze mid-feast. Their flames guttered, dimming against the sudden pressure. Only the Fae-fire held steady, anchoring the beasts as the aura thickened, heavy as a boulder pressing down on the lungs.
"System… what the fuck is that?"
[Unknown. Appears to be a big bug.]
"Yeah… very big…"
The imploded fleshball swelled violently, distending like a carcass left in the sun. Plates of chitin burst through skin, oozing and knitting into armor. Limbs split, sharpened, bent wrong. It rose higher and higher until the ceiling itself seemed too low.
Two stories tall now. An insect's body stretched on orange-black plates. Arms bent into serrated scythes. And the head, half mantis, half woman, twitched as the mouth tore open in a dripping scream.
The shriek shredded the chamber. Azakh-Tur staggered, claws clamped over his ears as the sound drilled bone. Even Panic's laughter choked off.
Something monstrous had been born.
[System // Notification]
[Class Quest Available // Slaughter Them All]
[Conditions // Kill the Giant Mantis, and both Scorchclaw Sentinels / User must provide the killing blow ×3]
[Reward // Mutation Bloodline x1]
[Accept // Yes/No]
He didn't hesitate.
[Class Quest // Slaughter Them All // Accepted]
A smile tugged at his cracked lips. It had been a while since he'd got a quest. His first class one was definitely something he wasn't going to turn down.
"Already planned on it… one way or another."
His gaze snapped back to the Sentinels as he slid a few steps back, cleavers ready, bloodlight twitching at his edges. He didn't need to deal with this mantis immediately, but the bears were still gorging, still healing. That couldn't stand.
"Inspect."
[Name // Scorchclaw Sentinel]
[Classification // Fae Beast]
[Sex // Male]
[Level // 28]
[Rank // C]
[HP // 1746/2,240]
[Mana // 65/95]
[STR // 40 C]
[VIT // 38 C]
[AGI // 28 D]
[INT // 12 E]
[WIL // 22 D]
[Name // Scorchclaw Sentinel]
[Classification // Fae Beast]
[Sex // Female]
[Level // 25]
[Rank // C]
[HP // 790/1750]
[Mana // 33/80]
[STR // 45 B]
[VIT // 42 B]
[AGI // 26 D]
[INT // 14 E]
[WIL // 26 D]
His mind snapped through the numbers. Plan formed. Orders barked.
"You two handle the Sentinels."
Panic looked to the two beasts, his head tilted, brow tight. Pain's face hardened, clenching his claws as he stepped forward.
"I'll die for the Boss."
Not to be outdone, Panic hurriedly pressed his dagger to his gut.
"I'll kill myself now!"
"I don't want you to die. I want you to kill them."
His tone was iron.
"Their fire won't burn you, same as me. Stay fast, climb high, chew their fucking heads off. Now move."
They didn't hesitate again. He watched them go, unbothered...broodlings were meat he could always make again. Soulmass ticked down under Hellfire's drain, every second cut thinner.
He started. The earth exploded beneath him as he vanished.
[-2SM]
[Rend Activated]
[+15% Slicing Damage]
Butcher's Wrath swelled to four feet, cleaver-edge hissing with bloodlight. It slammed down and sparked across the mantis's carapace. No cut. Only screeching metal and light.
The insect's head tilted. One foreleg swept.
"Fuc—!"
BOOM!
He blocked, but the impact hurled him like a toy, body skipping like a stone until he cratered into an overgrown traincar.
[-57HP]
[HP // 403/460]
[SM // 24/36]
[Demonic Will // Active]
[Stacks // 0]
Light detonated behind his eyes. Rocks pinned him, ribs screamed. Rage boiled louder than the system prompt. He shoved free, handles cutting into his palms. Then the Link tugged. A notification flared.
[Brood Link / Feed // Active]
[+2%HP/5sec]
[+9HP]
His grin split raw and bloody. Across the chamber, by the blaze of the Fae-fire, his spawn clung to their prey—Pain and Panic gnawing into the napes of both Sentinels like tics. Small wounds, but steady. Distracting. Exactly what he needed.
The mantis loomed closer, its newborn body flexing, dripping slabs of half-formed flesh.
"You're gonna be a problem."
He spat blood, cleavers rising.
"Maybe I bit off too much. But this is fucking fun."
He rose, bloodlight crawling his blades. Broodlings tore at their quarry. The mantis locked eyes, carapace snapping into place. All threads wound tight. Only one hadn't pulled yet.
'Hurry, Grimm. Don't fail me.'
His pet's turn. His kill to set.