The Grotesque's body finally showed clear signs of damage under the explosions of several grenades.
The grenades landed squarely beneath its massive form.
Its bloated, tumor-like body wasn't agile enough to evade.
Besides, these low-tier demons, lacking intelligence, had no concept of dodging.
The explosions erupted almost simultaneously, shrapnel propelled by the blasts completely shredding the Grotesque's disproportionately small legs.
Its spherical body also took a hit, resembling a potato with a chunk bitten out, its skin splitting open.
"Cease fire!"
Rumlow halted the continued barrage.
By his "common sense," a creature so mangled should already be dead.
Though he remained somewhat vigilant, his decision was still a mistake.
…
"This is what they call fighting? They stopped attacking without even confirming if it's dead? What, does he want to get a close look at how a Grotesque explodes?"
Vydar shouted, expressing his disdain for the agents, his eyes turning to Tess, the agent on standby.
"If you've got a way to contact them, you'd better tell them to keep firing."
Vydar was already bending the rules. In a secret realm, outsiders weren't allowed to aid combatants—that was the barbarian way.
"Shut it, Vydar."
Bul-Kathos hurled a piece of roasted meat at him, effectively sealing his mouth.
"Meat grilled by the future Immortal King himself!"
Vydar grinned, taking the meat and stepping back, signaling he'd say no more.
As for Tess, he tried using his radio to relay the warning to Rumlow, but no matter how he fiddled with the ever-reliable device, there was no response.
Even as Vydar spoke, the experts monitoring Bul-Kathos lost their audio feed.
This completely cut off any chance of warning Rumlow.
Mount Harrogath had its own rules. Though it never spoke, barbarians believed the mountain possessed its own consciousness.
Just as demons attacking the mountain often fell into suddenly appearing crevasses.
"How should I address you? Immortal King?"
Tess was growing anxious, needing more information and a channel to communicate with the only living person on this mountain.
Bul-Kathos glanced at him, then turned back to his roasted meat, occasionally sharing with the Ancient One and Jill.
Clearly, he had no interest in engaging with Tess.
Even if these agents earned the mountain's recognition as warriors, it didn't erase Bul-Kathos's distaste for their earlier, disrespectful probing.
The Ancient One remained silent about his choice—it wasn't necessary to comment.
Jill, meanwhile, kept his head down, struggling to suppress the nausea from the visuals before him.
He knew Bul-Kathos was his anchor. He wouldn't risk angering him by speaking up for a stranger.
Jill clearly remembered how his life was saved.
He wasn't foolish enough to think Bul-Kathos's care was owed to him.
The boy understood he had no right to demand anything from others.
…
Under Rumlow's orders, a scout cautiously approached the Grotesque's massive, motionless body. Not far behind, another agent stood ready with a shotgun, guarding against the prone creature.
The other team members spread out, aiming their weapons down the dark corridor, prepared for further combat.
The Grotesque's body was a tantalizing specimen for these agents, eager to understand the barbarians.
In Rumlow's ears, he could even hear the excited debates of biological experts.
A creature nearly impervious to gunfire was a beacon of hope for research breakthroughs.
The Super Soldier Serum was their dream and obsession.
Both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra desperately wanted samples of the Grotesque's flesh, forcing Rumlow's team into this reckless move.
The Grotesque lay still, unmoving.
It wasn't dead, of course—its signature explosion upon death hadn't occurred.
But the intense impact had temporarily knocked it out, leaving it in a state akin to a coma.
Demons, however, had a fascinating trait: an uncanny, almost eerie adaptability.
They could survive any terrain, any environment.
Even against conditions like unconsciousness or blindness, they developed strong resistance.
The more they were controlled, the less effective such measures became.
This coma wouldn't last long.
As the scout prodded the Grotesque's gaping maw with his gun barrel, the beast's hand shot out, seizing the unfortunate agent's leg in an instant.
Simultaneously, the agent behind him opened fire on the Grotesque!
A hail of shotgun pellets struck its chest, but it didn't halt its brutal advance!
In the blink of an eye, the scout was torn in two, his blood painting the Grotesque's mangled form red.
At that moment, Jill, struggling to suppress his nausea, finally lost control.
Even the Ancient One, who had lived for centuries, turned her head slightly, unable to bear the sight of death.
Bul-Kathos watched the massive projection, eating his roasted meat with an unchanged expression.
But his grip tightened.
Warriors knew death was inevitable, but seeing humans fall to demons still stoked their rage.
Beneath Bul-Kathos's stoic exterior, his killing intent toward demons reignited.
Even if these agents carried the taint of villains, he still felt a pang for the loss of life.
The dense gunfire resumed, yet the Grotesque crawled toward Rumlow's team with unrelenting determination.
"How many of these monsters are in here?!"
Tess shouted at Bul-Kathos, trembling. To him, this secret realm wasn't a trial—it was murder.
"The weakest secret realm has at least a dozen demons, plus one champion demon."
Vydar answered from afar. In barbarian understanding, entering a secret realm meant accepting the possibility of death.
But Vydar was different—more compassionate.
"They could choose to abandon it, but it seems they don't know the Town Portal spell…"
Vydar said with regret.
While the secret realm allowed retreat through its entrance, that required some knowledge of the Town Portal spell to activate.
Now, their only way out alive was to clear the realm.
(End of Chapter)
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