Just as Irene and her group were enveloped by this eerie atmosphere, a voice, ancient and raspy like the scraping of rotting wood, suddenly echoed through the space:
“It has been a long time... It has been so long since any guests have come to visit this old man...”
In the dead silence, the voice seemed to reverberate through the air, refusing to dissipate for a long time.
Everyone's nerves instantly tensed, and they warily looked toward the source of the sound.
The elderly man who had been sculpting the drow flesh mountain slowly turned around.
Only then did Irene's group realize to their horror that the lower half of his body, hidden beneath his robes, was actually made of countless squirming, twisting tentacles.
These tentacles writhed like disgusting worms, making anyone who looked at them feel a wave of nausea.
Meanwhile, the old man's face was constantly bulging and collapsing, his features twisting and shifting as if they were a lump of kneaded dough rather than a living human's face.
The old man did not seem to care about their reaction. His shifting, distorted eyes widened and narrowed by turns, and his mouth stretched in a grotesque grin all the way to his ears as he spoke with a smile:
“My dear guests, would you be interested in hearing a story?”
Then, without waiting for a response, he began to recount on his own:
“Once upon a time... there was a Duchy of Reny, famous for its wine-making...”
“Back then... the old duke of that land had two children and a happy family...”
“But then...”
“Two evil black dragons appeared.”
“They committed all kinds of atrocities, domineeringly trampling upon the dignity of the Duchy of Reny. They... possessed absolutely no shame.”
“In his shame and anger, the elderly duke sent his two beloved sons to reason with them.”
“As a result...”
“The wicked dragons slaughtered those two poor children who had gone to negotiate.”
“And just as the old duke received this news and was consumed by grief... the mother of those two evil dragons appeared.”
“She brutally massacred the Duchy of Reny and plundered a vast amount of wealth.”
“She forced the elderly duke to use a magic scroll to flee in panic...”
“Yet, fate is a cruel mistress...”
“Having lost everything and being utterly grief-stricken, the old duke was teleported by the scroll's magic to this chaotic and debauched Underdark.”
“He was captured by a group of disgusting drow elves.”
“He was exploited and tortured day and night...”
Speaking up to this point, the old man's voice suddenly rose, as if he had recalled some unspeakable scene.
“To satisfy their abominable, selfish desires, the greedy drow actually forced the old duke to drink crudely made stamina potions!”
“The old duke... struggled in such despair and agony, tortured to the point where he was neither truly alive nor allowed to die...”
“Finally, on that day...”
“Taking advantage of the brief paralysis that overcame the drow after their indulgence, the old duke escaped from their clutches.”
“He fled to a drow treasury, initially only wishing to find a way to escape this place.”
“Yet by a stroke of luck, he obtained a heavily sealed tentacle...”
“It was... a relic from the Southern Continent.”
“It was... his salvation...”
“Before the drow could notice, the old duke swallowed that tentacle...”
“At that very moment, he understood everything. He received the Mother Goddess's favor and obtained endless power!”
“He cast aside his past grievances and allowed the drow who had once oppressed him to receive the Mother Goddess's grace, shedding their original filth and squalor to transform into noble servants of the Mother Goddess.”
“And now...”
The old man's gaze fell heavily upon Irene.
“The pitiful old duke is finally able to carry out the next step of his revenge...”
Rate on N.U.
