A gloomy flight of stairs led straight underground. Torches flickering on heavy stone walls cast faint light, while condensed droplets fell from above, striking the ground with a monotonous splash.
From the bottom of the stairs, intermittent growls and wails drifted faintly out, making the deep staircase feel all the quieter and more dead.
Accompanied by the rhythmic clack of footsteps, a tall figure walked down the dim staircase.
Standing at least two meters tall, the figure wore a cloak that nearly dragged along the ground, its head completely concealed under a deep hood. Beneath the shadow of the hood, only a pair of blood-red eyes gleamed ominously in the dark.
Clack, clack.
Heavy footsteps resounded with a slow, persistent cadence as the towering figure walked down the stairs and halted outside the dungeon door.
Beyond the crack of the door was pitch darkness. There were no human voices—only the maddened growls and shrieks of the infected violently slamming against the metal cell doors, creating a deafening racket.
Harried panting echoed from beneath the hood. The red glow in its eyes flared intensely as the breathing grew heavier and raspier.
Boom.
The heavy stone door of the dungeon was shoved open with ease. Inside was pitch-black, as expected. Within the gloom, the faint growls instantly became vivid and loud, the agonized roars sounding as if pouring out deep-seated anguish.
“Hehehehe.”
A chilling chuckle rasped from the intruder—a man's voice. He tilted his head at the doorway, listening intently for a moment before stepping into the dark dungeon.
Though surrounded by the din of roaring and frantic clawing, he paid it no mind. He walked straight in as though perfectly oriented, heading toward the center of the circular dungeon.
Sparks flickered.
With the scrape of flint, the figure lit a torch.
Several cramped cells instantly emerged into the light, each crammed with ghastly, wound-covered infected.
But the tall man couldn't see them yet; the sudden burst of light dazzled his eyes, momentarily blinding him.
Unbothered, he followed the stench of blood toward the cell door directly ahead, pulling out a cluster of bloodstained keys as he walked.
Yet just as his blurred vision almost brought him within reach of the cell entrance, an eerie power surged abruptly from within the cell.
With a sharp thud, he recoiled two steps as if slamming into a solid wall, unable to draw any closer to the iron bars.
Even as he stumbled back in confusion, a shrill howl of a blade tearing through the air erupted from behind him.
The cloaked man displayed astonishing physical prowess. Even mid-recoil, his body contorted unnaturally, allowing him to leap forward and to the side, relying on his rapidly recovering vision.
But halfway through his evasive roll—thud! His body hit another invisible wall, cutting his dodge short.
Blood sprayed into the air.
The cloaked man let out an agonizing shriek as a bone-deep slash opened along his left arm. Through the torn cloak, skin with the rubbery texture distinct to ghouls was laid bare.
Flustered, the cloaked man whirled around, only to find no one there. Before his brain could comprehend the situation, the whistle of a sword struck out from behind him once again.
This time, he didn't try to dodge. Twisting his torso, he thrust his right claw upward, raising bony talons to meet the incoming slash head-on.
Metal shrieked against metal as talon met blade. The talons endured for merely half a second before the sword gleam cleaved right through them, sweeping downward toward his chest.
Yet taking advantage of that split-second reprieve, the cloaked man threw himself backward with all his might. Though he failed to fully escape the sword's reach, the tip sliced across his chest, leaving a bloody gash but saving him from being cleaved in two.
Reeling back several steps, he slammed hard against the stone wall to prevent anyone from getting behind him again. Only now did he have a chance to survey his surroundings.
A tall woman stood behind him with sword in hand, glaring at him grimly as blood dripped from her blade. Behind her stood a cell with its door thrown wide open.
Clear laughter chimed from inside the cell. A petite, graceful lady stepped out beside Dr. Sven, half her face concealed behind a folding fan. Together, the three of them formed a semicircle, trapping the cloaked ghoul in the middle.
“We have been waiting for you for a long time, dear Mr. Ghoul,” said the count's daughter with an aristocratic smile—revealing herself to be Miss Diana alongside Officer Natalie. “Visiting us so late at night, you certainly didn't come just to say hello and look around. Your goal could only be two things: either Dr. Sven's medicine formulations or the victims kept here. Wanting to save you some trouble, we simply brought both of your targets together.”
The ghoul offered no response. Only his blood-red eyes flickered beneath the shadows of his hood, contemplating his next move.
“He doesn't understand you,” Dr. Sven said, taking a step forward with a dark expression as she switched to the local dialect. “Who on earth are you, and why are you doing this? Don't you know that a plague of this scale could end up implicating us as well? Besides, we have lived as neighbors alongside humans for so many years in harmony. Do you really wish to slaughter them all?”
The cloaked ghoul remained silent, his gaze darting between the three of them. Then, without warning, he launched himself straight at Miss Diana.
Facing the attacker, the count's daughter let out a soft chuckle, tapping her foot lightly against the stone.
【Authority, Protection, Ability, Lockdown】
An invisible barrier materialized once more directly in front of her. Safe behind the wall, Diana raised her folding fan, aiming it right at the charging ghoul.
But the instant before he collided with the lockdown wall, the ghoul veered abruptly at unprecedented speed, lunging toward Dr. Sven instead.
Dr. Sven's combat prowess was by no means inferior to the others. Yet as the ghoul lunged close, the wind blew back his hood, exposing his face to her. Dr. Sven froze as if struck by lightning, staring in utter shock at the enemy rushing toward her, completely forgetting to react.
Seemingly anticipating this, the ghoul swerved around the female doctor. Making no further attempt to unlock the cell doors and free the infected, he bolted straight out of the dungeon and bounded up the dark stairwell in a matter of strides.
“Dr. Sven!” Diana and Natalie gasped in unison, rushing to her side. “After him!”
Yet neither of them actually gave chase. Instead, they stood guard by Dr. Sven, watching the retreating ghoul out of the corner of their eyes. Once he vanished from sight, they glanced at the blood on the sword and exchanged a knowing smile.
“Now that we have his blood, tracking him down tomorrow will be a breeze. Not only will we find him, but we might even locate that body as well,” Miss Diana said with an admiring smile. “Dr. Sven, your act was so convincing, you... Huh?”
The two women noticed that although the ghoul had fled, Dr. Sven's stunned expression hadn't faded at all. It didn't look like an act.
“He...” The female doctor looked blankly at the two women beside her. “He is my father.”
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