Chapter 171: Corruption

  The journey had been uneventful for the most part, but Abel remained vigilant. He had been traveling for a few days now, his supplies well-stocked within his bag of holding.

  Food and water were never an issue, and as a Rank 2 Apostle, he found that most creatures instinctively avoided him, as if sensing the unnatural energy that surrounded him.

  Tonight was no different. The forest stretched endlessly around him, dense with ancient trees that loomed high above, their tangled branches creating a web of shifting shadows.

  The wind howled through the foliage, sending a ghostly rustling through the canopy. Occasionally, he heard strange noises in the distance—disturbing, unnatural sounds that made even the night creatures go silent.

  Groans, guttural and broken. The snapping of twigs, heavy and deliberate. The scraping of something rough against bark.

  Abel pulled his cloak tighter against the cold wind, its icy fingers slipping through the fabric and attempting to bite at his skin.

  His starry orb floating around him like a sentinel, illuminating his surroundings, and giving him an extra sense of safety.

  His robe flapped aggressively at times, caught in sudden gusts that carried a scent both damp and metallic—like old blood seeping into wet soil.

  His grip on his knife tightened slightly as he navigated through the undergrowth, his boots crunching over dead leaves.

  His mind wandered back to the alert sent by Apostle Iron Knight—a request for assistance that had piqued Abel’s interest.

  Vitoria, a small but resilient town, had been struggling to recover from the devastation of the earthquakes. But then, something else had crawled out of the ruins.

  Flaming Hounds.

  At first, their officers had been able to handle them. They weren’t organized, just monstrous things dragging themselves up from beneath the earth. But over time, their numbers swelled, and the situation had spiraled out of control.

  Even Iron Knight, a Rank 2 Apostle like Abel, was asking for assistance.

  That alone unsettled Abel—he had assumed an Apostle of the same rank would be capable enough to deal with such a threat. If he was asking for outside help, then things were worse than they seemed.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, low groan—not far off. Abel stilled, his breath evening out as he focused.

  A mana fluctuation.

  It was strong. Too strong to be from just a wandering beast.

  And it was coming from the exact direction he had planned to go.

  His expression darkened as he adjusted his grip on his knife, his instincts sharpening. Whatever was out there… he would find out soon enough.

  Abel’s steps were light as he moved toward the old shack, its wooden frame barely holding together against the passage of time.

  The roof was caved in at certain places, and the windows were cracked and splintered, their glass fogged over with an unnatural, oily sheen. The door hung loosely on its hinges, creaking softly as it rocked back and forth in the evening breeze.

  A low groan drifted from within, warbled and uneven, like someone gargling on their own breath.

  Abel narrowed his eyes, his instincts screaming at him to stay alert. The mana fluctuation he had sensed earlier was pulsing from within the shack, erratic and unstable. Something unnatural was inside.

  Abel’s fingers tightened around the handle of his knife as he approached, his steps measured and quiet.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Then, before he could reach the entrance, a man stumbled out of the shack and collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud.

  The man convulsed violently, his fingers clawing at his own throat, his eyes bulging as if something was choking him—but there was no visible assailant.

  Abel’s gaze flickered downward, and he quickly noticed the grotesque truth:

  The man’s own arm—swollen, misshapen, and covered in a sickly purple hue—was wrapped around his throat, squeezing the life out of him.

  The skin of the arm looked bloated and pulsing, as if something was crawling beneath the surface. The veins were thick and webbed, spreading outward like the roots of a dying tree.

  The man gurgled a few unintelligible words, but his face turned an unnatural shade, his throat crushed under the strength of his own limb. With a sickening crack, his struggling ceased, his body going limp on the cold dirt.

  Abel remained still, watching as the grotesque arm slowly unfurled itself from the lifeless throat. He didn’t lower his guard—he could feel something was terribly wrong.

  Then, to his grim realization, the arm twitched.

  It didn’t belong to the man anymore.

  The purple flesh expanded, stretching over the dead man’s body like a parasitic growth. Abel watched as the skin rippled unnaturally, consuming the corpse entirely, bending and warping his form in unnatural ways.

  Bones cracked, flesh reshaped itself, and in mere seconds, what once was a man had morphed into something entirely inhuman.

  The abomination stood.

  Its flesh pulsated, covered in boils and twitching veins. The once-human form had been hollowed out and turned into a monstrous mockery of life, its eyes now nonexistent, replaced by gaping holes that leaked purple ichor.

  Then, it turned to Abel.

  A deep, guttural gurgle rattled from the creature’s twisted form, a sound that sent an unnatural vibration through the air.

  Its chest heaved, thick ropes of viscous purple saliva stretching between jagged teeth before splattering onto the ground with a sharp hiss. The dirt beneath it blackened instantly, sizzling as if consumed by acid.

  The creature trembled, its grotesque frame twitching in anticipation, and the moment its sickly, swollen eyes locked onto Abel, it lunged.

  Abel moved instinctively, sidestepping with ease, his speed vastly outmatching the abomination. Yet the moment its clawed feet slammed into the ground, something unexpected happened—veins bulged along its bloated flesh, and with a sickening pop, purple fluids burst outward in all directions.

  The corrosive sludge splattered across the earth, melting through the surface with an eerie bubbling hiss.

  Abel twisted mid-air, flipping back just in time to avoid the toxic spray. His robe fluttered as he landed smoothly, eyes narrowing in thought.

  A corrosive pseudo that lost control…?

  His grip tightened around the hilt of his knife, the starry light shimmering along its edge. Without hesitation, he slashed outward, sending a luminous crescent of energy hurtling through the air.

  The glowing arc carved cleanly through the abomination’s body, bisecting it in a single stroke. The two halves collapsed to the ground with a wet squelch, their flesh folding inward like melted wax.

  But Abel didn’t relax.

  The remains twitched. Then they writhed.

  A grotesque sound, something between a wet slurp and a squirming squelch, filled the air as the two severed halves convulsed and expanded, reshaping into smaller, yet fully formed versions of the original. Their movements were more erratic now, limbs snapping into place like marionettes on broken strings, their mouths splitting wider in unnatural grins.

  “…Multiplication?” Abel muttered, unamused.

  The two newly spawned creatures hesitated for a moment, then turned sharply, attempting to retreat into the darkness.

  Abel wouldn't allow it.

  His blade flashed again, the starry energy condensing into two swift arcs that streaked through the air like falling meteors.

  The slashes carved through the retreating figures, severing them into quivering chunks of flesh. Their twitching remnants sizzled on the corroded ground, writhing for mere seconds before finally falling still.

  Abel exhaled, his stance relaxing only slightly. He gazed at the scattered remains, waiting—watching for any further unnatural regeneration.

  Nothing.

  Satisfied, he flicked his blade clean, the residual stardust dispersing into the night air. Then, without another word, he turned, leaving the ruined shack behind, making a mental note—Whoever had experimented with that thing… had been playing with something far beyond their understanding.

  The acidic fluid sizzled on the ground, the putrid stench thickening the air, but Abel ignored it, his gaze lingering on the grotesque remains.

  What kind of twisted experimentation led to this?

  He knelt down, carefully extracting a sample of the purple flesh into a sealed vial. Whatever this was, it needed further study.

  The shack behind him had been entirely corroded, reduced to nothing but a skeletal ruin. He looked around but found nothing that had survived the corrosive force.

  With a final glance at the darkened forest beyond, Abel turned, continuing on his journey.