Terry had been fortunate to see only its eyes, but Lynch saw the whole picture.
What walked out wasn't quite the same as those mad infected.
The creature still maintained a human shape and was even wearing human clothes, but Lynch really didn't want to call it a human.
Its features vaguely resembled a human's, complete with a pair of blood-red eyes, but its uneven skin had a rubbery texture similar to a ghoul's.
Large swaths of rot covered its exposed skin. Disgusting fluid dripped from beneath the festering flesh, while dark brown rotten meat curled out from open wounds. Tiny pustules grew over the decaying meat, bursting in large numbers as it moved to reveal uncanny sprouts of flesh leaking yellowish-green pus. These tiny sprouts wriggled like worms, emanating a thick, putrid stench that made Lynch gag even from a few meters away.
With every step it took, a layer of frost condensed on the ground where its feet fell. As the distance closed, an exceptionally eerie aura radiated from its body—cold, sinister, and steeped in the dread of death.
Enormous pressure instantly enveloped Lynch. It wasn't targeted at him, but that was precisely what made it horrifying—its mere unconscious existence generated such overwhelming pressure, striking directly at the soul and driving one to despair.
Lynch now understood what Terry had felt back then; this truly wasn't a pressure an ordinary person could withstand. But Lynch was no ordinary person. An immense willpower surged from the depths of his soul, enabling him to withstand the pressure without losing his composure on the spot.
This aura was all too familiar to Lynch. Furthermore, peering through the creature's body, Lynch felt as if he could see a phantom looming behind it.
An eerie green orb bobbed up and down in midair, with countless hideous tentacles extending from it and squirming aimlessly in the void.
Fuck, it really is you, Mordiggian, the King of Ghouls.
Lynch's heart tightened. His concealment technique was far from enough against an evil god, but he quickly calmed down.
He was inside an out-of-control mystery relic, not reality. What he was encountering wasn't a real evil god either, but merely a memory concerning one. In other words, in actual history, there really was an evil god here... Wait, no.
Lynch suddenly realized that this divine will lacked any vitality whatsoever. It was likely just a dormant will, much like the avatar of the King of Ghouls he had encountered back in Zur-Baha-Sahr; before awakening, its influence on the world wasn't that immense.
There's no need to worry about being discovered for now. But... earlier, I wanted to take the vessel of an evil god's will as a hostage? Damn, I was brave.
Lynch let out a self-deprecating laugh as he watched the monster pass by his side.
He really wanted to pull out his gun and blow the little monster's head to pieces, but in the end, he refrained.
Not only because he still needed to buy time, but as a vessel for an evil god's will, God only knew what would happen if it got shot in the head. The danger was simply too high; caution was best.
While Lynch was hesitating, the thing had already walked past him and entered the cavern.
An exclamation of shock immediately erupted from the city lord inside the cavern.
Seeing his son's image clearly once more, Jackson still couldn't help taking half a step back before turning around to glare furiously at Old Sven.
“What are you trying to show me? Jack, he... isn't he still the same as last night?”
“Pa... pa...”
A thick, raspy voice suddenly emerged from the monster's mouth, bringing everything inside and outside the cavern to a sudden standstill.
The muscles on the city lord's face twitched violently as his lips trembled and a gurgling sound echoed from his throat. He reached out, wanting to touch his son's face, yet after several attempts, he still couldn't bring himself to do it. Beside him, Old Sven's aged, deep voice sounded like the whisper of an evil god.
“Now you know why I invited you here, don't you? I told you I would help you and return a normal son to you. I wouldn't lie to you. I didn't waste last night, did I? How is it? Quite impressive, isn't it? Unfortunately, it isn't fully complete yet. I invited you here today because there's something I need your cooperation with.”
“What is it? Tell me quickly! As long as I can do it, I'll agree to anything!” The city lord trembled all over with excitement, speaking with a sob in his voice. “Kill those busybody travelers? Or get rid of that troublesome Terry?”
“No, no, no, none of that matters. Rest assured, what I need you to do is very simple.”
Old Sven smiled, in no rush to explain. Instead, he pulled out a chair, invited the city lord to sit down, and began chatting with him.
With the help of Judy's translation via the telepathic conch, combined with his own guesses and analysis, Lynch finally gained a general understanding of what had happened here.
Half a year ago, the city lord's youngest son was murdered by his three daughters working together. Deeply grieved, the city lord was on the verge of accepting reality when his old friend Sven suddenly approached him. Sven claimed that Mordiggian, the King of Ghouls, possessed the power to resurrect little Jack, though at an immense cost—and little Jack would have to become a container for Mordiggian's will.
The city lord had actually long known the true identity of the Sven family, so he wasn't surprised. Blinded by his hatred for his daughters and grief for his youngest son, he lost his mind and agreed to Old Sven's proposal.
First, relying on Mordiggian's power, they turned little Jack's corpse into a half-dead, half-alive infected state. According to Old Sven's explanation, this was straddling both banks of the River Styx, neither dead nor alive. Next was burying the corpse, which was meant to use the vitality of this year's newly grown crops to drain the concept of death from the corpse, returning it to the bank of the living. After that, they would use the grain drained of death as a medium to kill a vast number of living beings as a sacrifice to Mordiggian, seeking its mercy to awaken little Jack.
The moment Lynch heard this, he realized it was utter nonsense. This was clearly a man-made plague. Everyone who died from this plague would become a sacrifice to Mordiggian; the more people died, the greater the gains for the King of Ghouls. As for choosing little Jack, it was very likely because he was a suitable vessel for Mordiggian's manifestation. Perhaps even little Jack's death itself had been orchestrated behind the scenes by this old ghoul.
All gifts of fate come with a hidden price tag, but unfortunately, the Third Age city lord failed to grasp this truth. Instead, he was overjoyed. Faced with a choice between conscience and personal desire, he didn't hesitate for even a second before choosing personal desire. He fully cooperated with all of Old Sven's demands, allowing Old Sven to conduct experiment after experiment to gradually shape the plague, until last night, when the controlled little Jack was finally brought before him.
However, that was still a shell devoid of memory and mind, not the outcome Jackson wished to see, which led to everything that happened last night.
“To awaken his consciousness, we must replicate the process of his birth from his mother's womb, re-establishing a connection with this world through the flesh and blood of his closest kin. Since his mother is no longer alive, his three sisters were his closest kin. By devouring their flesh, blood, and souls, he finally re-established his connection with this world.”
“But he's still so dull!” The city lord didn't give a damn about his daughters at all, pressing further, “Why?”
“The effect wasn't enough,” Old Sven sighed. “Fortunately, there is a remedy.”
The city lord asked impatiently, “What remedy?”
Old Sven didn't answer, merely pointing behind the city lord. Turning around, the city lord saw his beloved son standing right behind him. Opening its rotting, gaping mouth, the monster bit directly into his carotid artery.
Amidst the splashing blood, Old Sven's eerie voice drifted over.
“Missing one was naturally not enough, but now the effect is complete. The connection will be successfully established very soon. Only, what awakens will not be Jack, but our master. Hehehe... Perfect timing. Now that your life and soul are in place, alongside those humans outside as master's first nourishment, master's will can smoothly descend into this vessel and recreate the glory of Zur-Baha-Sahr. When the time comes, master will remember your family... Who's there?”
Just as Old Sven was smilingly watching little Jack gnaw on his father's neck while whispering softly, he suddenly whipped his head around, catching sight of a figure flashing past behind him as a serrated sword lunged directly at his face.
Rate on N.U.
