"Hmm. This has become troublesome."
Basilio scratched his helmeted head as he looked at the pink, writhing cave. With the appearance of Archbishop Mirak, the party had been scattered in all directions due to the sorcery he had used.
While they were all people who could handle themselves well wherever they went, having their forces dispersed like this was not a welcome development.
Of course, if there was any consolation in this situation, it was that he wasn't completely alone.
"I never imagined we'd end up together like this, Sir Basilio."
"Ah. Right. You said your name was Delford?"
"That's correct."
Delford, who spoke with a heavy and polite tone, was a gentlemanly man whose demeanor was completely at odds with the typically ferocious appearance characteristic of werewolves.
"I suppose you can see what the current situation is."
What they hadn't quite anticipated was that this entire building had become a living, breathing monster.
They hadn't harbored such naive thoughts as being able to kill Cardinal Zaxilos in one strike. But they had planned to inflict serious damage on him and then sweep him away without giving him any opportunity to recover.
As expected, the power of the heretics far exceeded common sense.
"Truly remarkable. To think they could transform an environment that's essentially no different from inanimate matter in such a way."
Delford had fought against the Eternal Church before when attacking the CEO of Full Metal Heart. There, they had pressed their attack with horrific forms created by transforming their own bodies.
A truly free-spirited approach that was bound neither by mass nor volume. Those transformations, which gave no consideration whatsoever to aesthetic elements, were enough to disgust even him, who prided himself on having a strong stomach.
So he thought he had mentally prepared himself, but the power of the Outer God exceeded his imagination.
"It can't be helped. The power they use comes from outside this world. They're not bound by common sense or standards."
"The outside. Come to think of it, Sir Basilio seems to know something about this."
Delford's question was sharp. In fact, this wasn't something that could be hidden.
Not only had Basilio used his power in front of everyone, but Zaxilos' words to Basilio alone were enough to make deductions.
"Well, it's a relationship bound by a tiresome evil fate. This power is something I never intended to have."
Delford quietly observed Basilio, who had manifested red thorns above his palm. Basilio turned around and asked.
"Do you find me repulsive? After all, what I wield is not much different from those monster bastards."
"That's actually what I wanted to ask you."
Delford shook his head and loosened up his body.
"I'm the one who's not human, with this terrible appearance, aren't I?"
"Why? You look quite impressive."
"Haha. Thank you for the compliment. But I too never wanted to become like this. Yes, if we're being precise, you could say my situation is similar to yours, Sir Basilio."
Delford looked down at his palm covered in black fur.
"This appearance is something I never intended."
"...Right. We all have our circumstances."
"Indeed. That's why I'm somewhat relieved. The fact that a man I respect is in a similar situation to mine. I suppose you could say I feel a sense of kinship."
"Haha. That's quite a positive way to put it. However, it seems too early to feel relieved yet."
"I agree. Given the circumstances, we have no choice."
He could feel the corrupted beings in the distance sensing their presence and approaching. Among them were specially powerful entities mixed in as well.
Right. Now that they had separated their prey, it was time to begin the real hunt.
Basilio and Delford stood shoulder to shoulder and took combat stances.
"We'll show them directly who the real prey is."
"My thoughts exactly."
At the same time Basilio and Delford entered combat, fights were breaking out in other places as well.
"Damn it. They're really swarming us disgustingly!"
Krollakia, moving along the walls like a cockroach with a shaashak sound, shouted in an irritated voice. On Krollakia’s back, Senaka was clinging while keeping watch behind them.
Along the path Krollakia passed, the flesh walls froze as white frost formed, but new red waves quickly covered them over.
They were doing their best to escape, pushed back by the army of corrupted beings surging like waves.
"Sister! I'm going to run faster, so hold on tight! We need to somehow reunite with the others!"
Senaka didn't respond. Instead, she gripped Krollakia’s scales even tighter with her small hands.
-Crackle crackle crackle.
The corrupted beings froze and shattered into pieces as they fell, but beyond them, even more corrupted beings continued to charge forward.
"This should be sufficient."
Archbishop Mirak, having grasped roughly how the situation was unfolding, wore a satisfied smile. He had separated all the troublesome ones. They would wander in this endless labyrinth, fall into traps, and eventually collapse from exhaustion.
But that didn't mean he, as an archbishop, could just sit idle with his hands folded. His Eminence the Cardinal had sustained considerable injuries. As someone in a position to assist him, he needed to handle matters a bit more thoroughly.
"It's definitely better to minimize unnecessary possibilities as much as possible. Don't you think so?"
Archbishop Mirak asked the seductive black-haired woman standing before him, Grace Seeker.
"Oh my. Has an old man who's lived long enough actually taken an interest in a young lady like me and called me here separately? How terrible."
"Haha. Are you pretending to be relaxed? Yes, as the leader of the infamous Blood Brotherhood, you certainly have reason to be. But aren't you being too ignorant of the current situation? All your precious comrades have been scattered. You're here alone."
Flesh masses writhed and moved around Archbishop Mirak. Here and there, with gurgling sounds, corrupted beings, believers, and priests began to reveal themselves between the opened flesh walls.
"Your manners are absolutely terrible. To have so many ganging up on a young lady like me. Or should I call it the slyness that perfectly fits the situation?"
"Actually, I've been interested in you for some time. Your origins and that vitality. That brilliant scent of blood that rivals those who serve Red Eternity, despite not serving him yourself."
At Archbishop Mirak's words, which nakedly revealed his greed, Grace wore a deep smile.
"Right. I do have quite a good bloodline. Compared to you lot who I don't know where you've been rolling around, honestly, shouldn't you feel honored just to be standing here?"
"...You might not know about other things, but you'd better be careful with that mouth of yours."
Archbishop Mirak contorted his face. To a degree completely different from his previously benevolent-looking impression, he truly looked like an evil spirit.
What Grace had just done was nothing less than insult the god they served.
For Mirak, who had risen to the position of archbishop through steel-like faith, this was an absolutely unforgivable act.
Of course, Grace wasn't one to yield to such murderous threats.
"Oh really? But what can I do about this? Even if I were to speak more modestly, it doesn't seem like your attitude toward me would change particularly."
"...I'm very interested in your blood. That vitality, the source of that power. I don't know where it comes from, but I'd like to study it."
"Not study it, but you want to devour it whole, right? I haven't seen much, but I think I roughly understand what you're trying to do. Devouring other people and increasing your own power. That's how you live. Don't you think it's too primitive and lowly?"
Even though Archbishop Mirak spoke like that, ultimately he was saying he wanted to take her power.
"What would you do after becoming that strong? Ah, perhaps you're aiming for a cardinal position by reaching a higher level? From what I can see, you seem to have been suppressed for a long time. Sorry, but I can't understand that feeling. I have no intention of sympathizing either."
"Enough! No more useless talk!"
When Archbishop Mirak raised his hand, the corrupted beings that had been waiting around began to move.
"She's valuable material. Capture her with minimal damage."
Red waves rushed toward Grace from all directions. Considering this massive tsunami, the delicate Grace looked precarious, as if she would break helplessly the moment it touched her.
But Grace wasn't frightened at all. Rather, she curved her bright red lips into an arc and smiled as if enjoying herself.
'She's smiling?'
Seeing this, Archbishop Mirak thought Grace had gone mad. What confidence could she possibly have to smile like that when she was left alone? Soon after, the red wave completely engulfed Grace's body. Just when he was inwardly worried that she might become just a handful of blood from the pressure alone.
-Swiiiiish!
Countless black whip-like bundles tore through the inside of the red wave and burst out. Archbishop Mirak belatedly realized that these were hair strands imbued with darkness. The protruding black bundles were soon violently swung, tearing through space itself.
Countless pieces of flesh and corpses scattered in all directions. The corrupted beings that had charged forward with such vigor were killed without even having a proper fight.
At the center of that slaughter, Grace Seeker stood proudly with her darkness-rippling hair wrapped around her body. Like a black swan floating on a tranquil lake.
"I suppose you looked down on me because I was left alone?"
Grace's hair lashed toward Archbishop Mirak.
"Actually, I'm sufficient by myself."
The shadows move. Behind the shadows moving secretly like dancers, pitch-black beasts pursued relentlessly.
Black threads streaked, crossed, and collided over the large passages writhing with flesh masses. Each time, along with bright red blood, the corpses of black-clothed assassins fell one by one from the shadows.
Malina, who was in the lead, snapped the neck of a Dead Dagger assassin charging at her in reverse and looked back.
Even coming this far, she had easily killed double digits of them, but the ones now pursuing her were twice as many as those she had killed.
Silent, stealthy movements that made no sound. Yet the sight of the darkness moving little by little gave a creepy feeling, like cockroaches chasing after her.
'Moreover, this persistent and blatant tracking method. Sabrina, is it you again?'
Malina bit her lips. She had vaguely expected it, but she never thought it would really turn out like this. She was separated from the other party members, and what awaited her was an attack by Dead Dagger assassins.
She was trying to shake off the pursuit somehow, but they had no intention of letting go of the reins they had once grasped.
'Only at the crucial moment when I'm trying to escape do they throw away their lives one by one to interfere. They're not trying to kill me immediately, but planning to gradually corner me and gnaw at me.'
This kind of malicious cornering of opponents was Sabrina's specialty, that woman's trademark. Malina knew well that if things continued like this, she would be dancing to her tune.
But that didn't make the situation any better. Sabrina had set a trap, and she was even receiving help from the Eternal Church.
Every time Malina moved, the flesh passages writhed and tried to interfere with her movement. Each time, the distance she had put between herself and her pursuers was closed again repeatedly.
Malina didn't have the ability to split all the walls with a single sword like Osian. Her power was thoroughly limited to interpersonal combat only.
Just as she was wondering whether she should use her trump card in this situation, a woman appeared beyond the shadows of the pursuers.
"Hey there, Malina. How long are you going to keep running? Wasn't I the one you were looking for?"
When Sabrina, who should have been hiding behind giving orders, openly appeared, Malina's pupils trembled. Her, who would somehow avoid dangerous situations, stepping forward? Was this a trap to lure her in?
But at the same time, it was an irresistible temptation. If she could just kill Sabrina right here and now, those mindless assassins would be no match for her.
Then what should she do?
Malina stopped running, lowered her posture, and conversely charged toward Sabrina.
Assassins blocked her path to interfere, but what faced them was black death. Countless black threads were drawn, butchering the assassins, and that momentum was driven like a storm, shooting toward Sabrina like a cannonball.
'The aged Sabrina can't block this!'
Malina knew Sabrina's skills well. She was certainly an excellent assassin, but Malina had long since surpassed such a Sabrina. Moreover, as time passed, Sabrina had aged and her body had grown frail, while conversely, Malina had accumulated experience and improved tremendously.
-Clang!
But surprisingly, Sabrina blocked the dagger Malina had swung far too easily. Sabrina smiled at Malina, who stared wide-eyed in surprise.
"Your skills have improved even more. Truly worthy of being my greatest masterpiece. If it had been the old me, my head would have been severed in one stroke without even being able to react."
Sabrina's leg moved like lightning, kicking up toward Malina's chin.