Chapter 765 - So what exactly do you think you can do?
Beneath the tall wooden spires rose the long, sprawling Thornbriar Fortress Wall.
The surface of the wall was covered with the wails of restless spirits, rolling toward them like a wave.
Aaaaaaah—!
It was a chorus of unintelligible whispers, low, resonant tones weaving together something like a melody, and shrill, piercing screams cutting through two distinct voices.
This was a choir made up of evil spirits.
The choir of restless spirits clad in the Thorn Shroud echoed in their ears and set their hearts pounding.
It was a harmony laden with despair and fear, sorrow and agony intermingled.
Ominous—every note pressed anxiety onto its listeners, instilling the urge to either join them or simply die, so overwhelming was the sound.
But that effect was only for ordinary folks.
It didn't apply to the Madmen Knights.
"Man, they're really noisy," Rem commented.
He had already fortified his zone with sorcery.
Even without it, he wasn't the type to be rattled by the shrieks of such second-rate creatures.
He picked his ear with his pinky fingertip, then blew on it and, with a sigh, added,
"Could you keep it down?"
After all, visualization was a specialty of his sorcery.
Rem was especially good at conjuring whatever he needed, precisely when he needed it and customizing it on the spot.
No sooner had Rem finished speaking than a black shadow surged up behind him.
Nobody present knew it, but this was the manifestation of a Tiger Beast that had survived over a hundred years in the Pen-Hanil Mountains.
It was a being that fed on and devoured souls—a natural enemy of evil spirits.
Aaaaah—ah, ah.
The noise from the Thornbriar Fortress Wall gradually grew quieter.
The carved eyes of restless spirits embedded in the wall, hollowed out from trees, averted their gaze.
Though nothing more than round, pupil-less forms—hastily whittled from wood and lacking any real vigilance—they seemed to recoil.
It was as if the wall itself had become frightened.
"Shh."
Rem raised his index finger to his lips and hushed them.
Enkrid stared straight ahead, indifferent, while Teresa quietly opened her mouth in surprise before closing it again.
She hadn't been startled—she'd simply been about to step forward, only to realize now that it wasn't necessary.
After all, what Rem had done was impressive, but nobody here was surprised by it.
Around here, that was the expected minimum.
Naturally, everyone's gaze shifted upward.
The towering trees looked no different from spires built by humans.
Their broad branches served as a platform—which also explained how the midnight-blue-skinned fairy had managed to roll out of the way of Enkrid's thrown spear.
The figure clad in black armor lowered his shield slightly.
This was the shield that had shallow grooves—the marks left from blocking the Relic Throwing Spear that Enkrid hurled with all his strength.
Woo-ung—wooong.
A vibration rang out from within the visor.
Whatever it meant, it was impossible to decipher—just an attempt to communicate.
The fairy, who had been knocked down, pressed her hand to the ground and stood up again.
Her eyes locked onto Enkrid.
"You."
Her eyes weren't filled with shock, but she was clearly surprised as she glared at him.
"If you stare at me like that, I might get embarrassed," Enkrid replied with a shrug, and Shinar quietly echoed him from beside,
"Rotten and decayed, reeking of poison rather than nourishment—what makes such a thing dare to glare at anyone?"
Meanwhile, Luagarne took a few steps forward and skillfully snapped her whip, retrieving the fallen throwing spear and tossing it back to Enkrid.
He caught it with a sharp smack, grabbed the shaft, compressed it back into a stick, and secured it at his waist.
"We really made a flashy entrance," Ropord muttered.
"Is that the thing we're supposed to cut down?" Fel asked, pointing forward.
His intent to slice through even the fortress wall was clear.
"An old fairy like that is nothing."
Ignoring the Corrupted Fairy entirely, those two began to insult Shinar.
"Fruit is only delicious when it's ripe."
Shinar calmly shot back, whispering to Enkrid, "It's the law of the world that things get tastier the longer they age."
Regardless of her anger, she always spoke her mind.
That was a habit of Shinar's that Enkrid had noticed time and again.
This was the Demonic Domain, and in front of them stood Thornbriar Fortress—a rare structure even for this cursed land.
Yet, no one seemed afraid.
In fact, their composure bordered on nonchalance—it was an unhinged, almost leisurely behavior.
Their attitude clashed with the situation and environment; it was a clear dissonance.
"Look at these guys."
Just then, under the Spire Tree and atop the Thornbriar Fortress Wall, a man stepped out, staring intently in their direction.
His skin was dark, but he still fell within the range of what you'd call human, and his appearance was unremarkable—someone you'd see anywhere.
Brown hair, brown eyes.
The only unusual thing was that he was a bit larger than average, though still smaller than Audin or Teresa.
It was hard to gauge his exact height from up there, but they could guess well enough.
Enkrid's gaze moved toward him, and their eyes met.
The man seemed to immediately recognize who stood at the center of the group that had just arrived.
Enkrid hadn't thought there would be many humans living in the Demonic Domain, so he asked,
"Sacred Land Sect?"
He knew that the Demonic Domain Sacred Land Sect was a cult that worshiped the Demonic Domain.
So it wasn't too surprising if some of them were actually living here.
It was easy enough to expect that, aside from the ones operating on the Continent, there would still be some left in this place.
"Sacred Land Sect? Why are you bringing up those idiots? I'm an Apostle of Red Foot."
Enkrid didn't understand a word the man was saying.
Red Foot—what was that supposed to mean?
There was a gap in information between the two of them.
The problem was that neither of them seemed interested in filling in the gaps for each other.
There was something else unusual about the man, too.
Though he spoke the Imperial language, there was a distinctly odd accent to it.
"You sure talk a lot."
Rem cut in.
"Is he an enemy?"
Fel asked again.
Meanwhile, Luagarne and Ropord had been searching for the entrance to the Thornbriar Fortress Wall.
The two of them were whispering to each other and getting on with the job they were supposed to do.
But there was no sign of an entrance anywhere.
Do they climb up and down the fortress wall every time they come and go?
The Corrupted fairy, bow still in hand, glared at Enkrid, while Shinar calmly studied the spirit.
"What is Red Foot?"
Unconcerned with what his allies were busy doing, Enkrid questioned the man.
Instead of answering, the man glanced over the group and spoke.
"He is the one destined to become a god."
No point in asking more—he's not going to give a straight answer.
It was the kind of certainty that comes from intuition.
"Yeah, figured as much."
Enkrid replied indifferently.
The man standing atop the fortress wall smirked and mocked him.
"This is Thornbriar Fortress. I am its lord."
"Huh, looks about right."
While the man took a deep breath, Enkrid spoke up.
Both men raised their voices, which echoed across the area.
Then the man curled one side of his mouth into a sneer, looking down at the whole group as he spoke.
His manner was unsettlingly composed and casual—even more so for how out of place it was, making it all the more unpleasant.
The mere fact that he could sound so calm in this situation only added to the discomfort.
"So what do you think you can do?"
Even though the man's voice grew quiet, it was clearer than when he'd been shouting.
If anything, it cut straight into their ears.
"…Wow."
The group was momentarily at a loss for words, but Rem was the first to respond, sounding genuinely impressed.
Look at this guy—his confidence is off the charts.
The man lifted his foot and tapped it against the floor, a showy little gesture, as if to say, "I have this wall to protect me."
Enkrid laughed.
Moments like this, he couldn't help but feel a rush—maybe even excitement.
There had been times in the past when he hadn't been strong enough to protect those behind him.
It hadn't happened just once or twice.
'Strength is what you need if you want to achieve your goals.'
He'd heard similar advice more than once, and he himself had reached the same conclusion.
That's why he wielded his sword.
Sometimes, even when he threw everything he had into it—even when he fought as if his life depended on it—he'd accomplished nothing at all.
Yeah, he'd been there before.
There'd been times when he'd been knocked around because he simply wasn't strong enough.
But now?
That time had passed.
That's why.
Watching that guy step forward, I felt a surge of anticipation.
What would happen if the very thing he trusts in came crashing down?
I didn't know exactly what the Red Foot was, but it was obvious it was something comparable to the Sacred Land Sect.
And hadn't Zhoraslav warned us before we got here?
"You must be careful with the High Priest."
Well, that was all Zhoraslav knew.
Supposedly, he was the one who had taken people from the Village several times.
"You're the High Priest, aren't you?" Enkrid asked.
The man responded by curling both corners of his lips up gently now.
His grin was stretched so high, it looked like it might reach his eyes.
It was a twisted smile—not something you'd ever see on a normal person.
Yeah, there was no way this guy was human, just judging from that.
Honestly, looking so ordinary on the outside only drove home how abnormal he really was.
After all, who but a madman would build a castle like that and live out here in the Demonic Domain?
"So you really thought all you had to do was break through the Groomroot pack and it would be over?"
The man let out a chuckle.
Behind him, dark soot began to billow upward, taking shape.
It had no wings but formed a hulking, muscle-bound shadow.
Even though it was a shadow like black soot, its bulky, muscular shape was clearly visible.
"That's wishful thinking. Markante Burta ha-
He was not the one to finish the sentence.
"Bur."
The ending came from the corrupted fairy atop the spire.
She lowered her longbow and spoke.
"Survive. I'll be the one to kill you."
Her words were directed at Enkrid.
Somehow, even though she was whispering from way up there, the Corrupted Fairy's voice rang out clearly.
And yet, the Spire Tree was so tall you had to crane your neck just to see her high above.
"Don't worry. I'll protect him."
Shinar answered her.
"I feel like I've been the one protecting you all the way here."
Enkrid turned his head and replied dryly, and Shinar gave him a faint smile.
"And that's made me happy."
She spoke so openly and warmly, I found myself at a loss for words.
Aaaaaaaaaaa—
As soon as the one presumed to be the High Priest finished speaking, the fortress walls trembled once more.
The chanting of the Restless Spirits, each clothed in the Thornbriar Shroud, rose louder and deeper than before.
At this level, even a Knight would struggle not to be affected.
"Hmph."
Ropord let out a snort.
The grating sound shot straight from ear to body, sending a jarring chill through us.
"They're coming."
That was Jaxen speaking.
Even without being particularly sensitive, it was easy to sense their presence.
From both sides and the rear of the wall, black masses tumbled to the ground, rolling steadily closer.
It was a horde of Ghouls.
Judging by their completely blackened forms, it seemed the Ghouls of the Demonic Domain were something else entirely.
"Cry out until dawn. I'll use your screams as my lullaby."
The High Priest's voice brimmed with curiosity.
Yes, let's see how long these intruders can keep rampaging.
It had been so long since such entertaining prey had come along.
That was why he mocked them, almost in amusement.
Enkrid turned his head left and right, looking up at the fortress walls as he pondered.
What should I do next
Screeeech!
Overhead, three massive black birds—each easily large enough to snatch up a person—circled in the air.
Feathers fell from their bodies, drifting down.
Each of those fallen feathers was as big as half of Audin's forearm.
They were formidable Beasts, their size impossible to ignore.
To be precise, they were modified Beasts, but that was something none of those present could possibly know.
As Enkrid watched the Monsters and Beasts, there was one thing he understood with certainty.
'If we had left this place alone, everyone would have died.'
Even now, he recalled the Corruptors' Village.
Outside, they had already swept away all the Monsters and minor Colonies.
Because of that, they managed to protect a single Corruptors' Village tainted by Demonic Energy.
However, considering the sheer number of Monsters packed in here, claiming they had safeguarded anyone seemed nearly meaningless.
The approaching Ghouls looked strange as well.
Their bodies bore stitch marks all over their necks and heads.
Their mouths were sewn shut, and it seemed their skulls had been split open and then crudely pieced back together.
Someone had clearly tampered with these Monsters in some strange way.
As the Ghouls advanced, the first to move was Jaxen.
In an instant, he appeared behind one of the Ghouls.
He drove his stiletto into the creature's neck and, with his foot, smashed its ankle.
Then, abandoning any pretense of stealth, he darted away, leaving only a blur behind him It looked as if a long line made of Jaxen was stretching out.
On the wounded neck of the Ghoul, black and yellow pus-like lumps began to swell.
The swollen masses grew larger than the Ghoul's head, then expanded to nearly the size of its body before bursting.
Pop!
With a loud noise, the black and yellow pus sprayed in all directions.
The moment Jaxen saw the oddly shaped Ghouls, he sensed a bad omen and tried to figure out their method of attack.
His instincts had been spot on and effective—now they knew these things exploded with pus when killed.
"That smell is terrible."
Shinar spoke as he drew her Leafblade about a span from its sheath.
The fragrance of flowers and forest radiated from the sword, but that alone was no match for the oncoming wave of Ghouls bursting apart.
When attacked, they scattered their plague far and wide.
One could resist it to some extent, but there were simply too many Plague Ghouls.
Kekekeke.
Somewhere, they could hear the laughter of that bastard from before.
Enkrid watched as Ghouls came charging—not just on two legs, but bounding on all fours.
That's a bit much.
"Audin."
"It's not my turn yet, brother."
"Oh, then Teresa?"
"Yes."
At Enkrid's call, the Half-blood Giant stepped forward, her eyes calm and composed.
She drove her shield into the ground and then climbed on top of it, making it her own small stage—a narrow, raised platform just for her.
At one time, Count Molsan commanded the Chimera Corps.
He even tried to turn Junior Knights into Knights through body modification.
Tracing back the origins of all that research would lead you to this man.
'Would they be suitable as test subjects?'
It seemed like all the most outstanding figures from across the Continent had gathered here, so he would at least get that much from them.
The High Priest would empty the body of a Ghoul and then fill it with a refined Evil Spirit that spread the plague.
It was only possible because he dabbled in every field—spells, sorcery, alchemy, and more.
He had also unleashed modified Crow Beasts, as well as the likes of the Crystal Armor Knights.
'Hold out longer and show me something interesting.'
The High Priest sincerely hoped for it.
Surely, they would last quite a while?
If so, it would need time to mature.
With those thoughts, he went into his room to organize his ongoing research and ideas.
When night fell, it became the time when monsters were at their wildest.
Inside the Demonic Domain, even sunlight turned ashen.
If it wasn't under a Red Moon, even moonlight couldn't easily penetrate.
That was why nights inside the Demonic Domain were pitch black.
In other words, it was the time when the humans outside would suffer the most.
Much time passed that way.
It was just as he was about to get up, thinking he might as well take a look outside for a bit.
Rumble.
He felt a tremor.
It was no small vibration.
Screeee.
At the same time, the song of Thornbriar Fortress shifted, its haunting tune twisting into something more like a scream.
Rumble, rumble, rumble.
The tremor grew stronger.
It felt as if the entire fortress was shaking.
And it was no illusion.
***
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