Chapter 701: The Deathhouse [Part 2]
The swarm of abominations surged forward in perfect unison, their blurred wings emitting a sound so grating it felt like claws raking across stone.
Northern's grip tightened on the Illusion blade, the weight of its presence settling into his hand like a trusted companion.
He flapped his Void wings once, steadying himself mid-air. His eyes darted from one abomination to another, each grotesque form blending into the mass of chaos.
They weren't attacking recklessly. They were synchronized-moving as a single entity, guided by something unseen.
'The wings are coordinated... too coordinated.'
There was no time to ponder further.
The lead abomination lunged, its serrated tongue slicing through the air like a whip.
Northern tilted his head, the tongue's edge grazing the air next to his cheek. In one swift motion, he brought the Illusion blade upward, severing the tongue with a precise strike.
Blood sprayed, but he ignored it. Instead, he propelled himself forward, twirled his sword, and slashed at the abomination from beneath.
One of the creature's hands flew off, gore spilling forth in a spiral pattern. The mournful bug buzzed erratically, emitting what seemed to be a guttural cry of pain.
Northern didn't care, seeing that the creature hadn't died. His suspicions were confirmed.
Northern rolled in the air as the creature lunged at him-others were already approaching in a terrifyingly coordinated array.
He slashed off the wing's root with a simple movement of his hand, quickly turning to deflect the next tongue with a swing of his sword.
Northern watched with a sidelong glance as the mournful bug succumbed to death, falling lifelessly and splashing on the ground like a mound of flesh.
'So, it really is the wing...'
Northern had suspected since he saw them move that the real creature was the wing. The rest of the body, aside from the transparent wing, looked like a lifeless form carried by it.
All of them were already closing in on him, the air trembling at the intensity of their approach.
Northern transferred the Illusion Sword to his other hand and extended out his now-free hand.
"Hidden Moon."
Instantly, the air filled with thick, hot fog, like the aftermath of an intense fire.
The abominations lost their sense of navigation. Because they had no eyes, Northern had suspected that using ordinary fog, such as the Void Aura's fog, would have been useless.
Hence, he decided to use [Hidden Moon].
[Hidden Moon] was an ability of [Nsair's Embrace], which he had copied from the Emperor of Luinngard. It allowed him to mask his presence in a fog of heat.
Another effect of the heat fog was that it messed with one's senses. The effect was minimized on beings that saw with their eyes-they would merely struggle to see through the hot smoke.
But creatures that relied on heat or sound perception were usually affected more severely, as the intense heat emanated by the fog disrupted everything to mask Northern's presence.
All of the mournful bugs suddenly lost their coordination. Northern moved through the dark fog like a wraith, the Illusion Sword floating ghostlike in his hands.
His movements were simple and efficient, swift and precise as he dismembered the wings from their backs.
As he did so, without further injury to the abominations, their bodies fell and splattered on the ground like paste.
A white trail of light from the sword flowed in sharp angles as he flew from place to place. Then the speed suddenly increased, the white light traveling terribly fast, drawing a pattern in the fog.
As it stopped, all the mournful bugs began to rain down on Bairan.
[You have slain Hazardous Hellion, Mourning Bug]
[You have gained +4 talent fragments]
[You have slain Hazardous Hellion, Mourning Bug]
[You have gained +4 talent fragments]
[You have slain Hazardous Hellion, Mourning Bug]
[You have gained +4 talent fragments]
Northern read the series of runes with a cold light in his eyes, one side of his face smeared with purple blood.
Swiftly, thanks to the fog, he had dispatched all the mournful bugs. He was tempted to say it had been strangely easy, but Northern knew that if he hadn't identified the wings as the real monster housing the soul, he would have continued futilely slashing at their bodies.
Hence, this wasn't a generally easy task-it was only easy because he was the one doing it. What Bairan had said suddenly seemed to be settling in.
'I'm not that strong...'
Even he couldn't help but feel like he was lying immediately after the thought crossed his mind.
'... Really, I mean, I know I am...'
Northern suddenly paused, frowning.
A second later, a much thicker and more intense buzz entered his ears. Following it, some truly crude insectoid monstrosities revealed themselves from the dark depths of the cave. They flew toward him, their hulking figures wrapped in layers of dark chitinous armor that glinted faintly in the sparse light.
Their massive wings, veined and orange, spread wide like the sails of a warship, stirring the air with a thick, ominous hum.
Razor-sharp claws clicked as their segmented tails coiled behind them, each ending in a wicked, barbed tip. Twin eyes, cold and expressionless, scanned their surroundings with an
alien intelligence.
Their eyes finally found the source of attraction. As one spotted him, all of them immediately turned their heads toward him.
'Eh? So those ones were the mobs.'
Northern sighed and dismissed his sword.
"Looks like I'll have to put aside getting used to the sword for a while and seriously deal with
you guys."
He muttered as he readied his hands, lowering them. Orange flames ignited like flaming spheres in his palms.
Northern slowly raised his hand to his face, extending two fingers to make a sign before his
eyes.
"Sun of Flame."
Whoooom!
The cavern expanse was suddenly illuminated by a frightening explosion of white, such that
one would think the very heart of the earth had been split open, spilling forth a searing light that chased away every shadow and left only stark, blinding brilliance.