Kelt drew his sword, hand shaking, but his aim true. He stepped in without hesitation and swung in a clean arc.
The blade sliced into the grotesque man's chest.
Blood sprayed.
The man stumbled back slightly, coughed up a mouthful of dark blood.
But then he laughed.
Not a normal laugh.
A dry, ragged, choking laugh that twisted through the air like a curse.
"Hahahaha... delicious."
He said
Kelt scowled.
"Lunatic."
Geld moved in next. His massive axe swung in a brutal overhead strike, splitting the man's head down to his neck. The blade crushed into his spine, right through the medulla oblongata.
The sound of bone cracking echoed.
The man's body crumpled to the ground.
The group didn't wait. The mercenaries rushed in together, steel flashing in the dim light. Blades slashed through skin. Arrows pierced his flesh. Fireballs and mana bursts burned his limbs.
Swoosh.
Slash.
Crack.
Splatter.
By the end of it, the ground was soaked red. Meat chunks, crushed bones, snapped fingers, a tongue, a jaw, what looked like part of a lung—everything was scattered.
The forest was silent for a moment.
Breathing heavy, Kelt looked down at the pile of gore.
"Is it over?"
Ran couldn't even speak. His hands clutched his knees. He was trembling.
Then the laughter came again.
Low at first.
Then louder.
Unnatural. Shrill.
The flesh pile twitched.
Bones snapped in reverse.
Skin knit together like liquid threads.
A limb grew. Then another. Spine. Skull. Hair.
The man stood up again, completely restored.
He smiled, teeth too wide for his face.
"Is that all you have?"
Then he tilted his head back and laughed.
"Ahahahahahahahahahahaha!"
The group stepped back in terror.
Suddenly, the man reached behind his back and gripped his own spine.
With a sickening crack, he broke it in half.
Snap.
He twisted it like a rope, contorting his body backward until his torso bent in an impossible angle. His spine stuck out from his back like a snapped branch.
Then...
Three mercenaries screamed.
And dropped.
Blood poured from their mouths.
Their backs split open, bones cracking and tearing through flesh.
Their bodies collapsed, lifeless, twitching slightly before going still.
Everyone froze.
Ran's eyes widened. His legs gave out again.
What is this? What kind of monster is this?
Kelt looked like he was going to vomit. He backed away, hand covering his mouth, pale as a corpse.
"This... this isn't human. This is no sorcerer, no beast."
Geld roared.
"Formation! Don't stand there like fools!"
The mages rushed to cast support spells. Buffs flew through the air—enhanced strength, hardened skin, sharpened senses.
Geld didn't wait.
He charged.
The earth beneath him cracked with each step. Mana surged around him, his axe glowing with layered enchantments.
He jumped.
And came down with everything he had.
BOOM.
The impact shook the ground. The trees nearby bent from the shockwave. Dirt exploded in all directions.
Blood and organs flew like shrapnel.
The grotesque man was reduced to red mist and unrecognizable pulp.
Intestines wrapped around tree trunks.
A piece of skull flew past Ran and landed with a soft thunk beside him.
The man's dick was stuck to a tree branch, limp and twitching.
Silence.
No one moved.
Then from the shadows...
The laughter returned.
"Ahahahahahaha... delightful."
The man stepped out of the darkness again, completely intact. His skin clean, robes untouched.
"This is my slaughterhouse."
Kelt's eyes twitched. His sword dropped a little.
Geld took a step back.
"No more. Fall back! Everyone retreat now!"
He shouted.
No one argued.
They turned and ran.
Geld, the bravest man there was now bolting through the trees, axe in hand.
Ran didn't even think. His body moved on instinct.
He ran.
Stumbling. Tripping.
Branches hit his face. His lungs burned. He couldn't even scream.
He could barely breathe.
The grotesque man raised his hand.
And whispered.
"Void Magic: Absolute Stillness."
The world changed.
Ran fell face-first, hard.
He couldn't move.
He tried to raise his arm.
Nothing.
He tried to scream.
His mouth wouldn't open.
Everyone around him was frozen mid-run. Suspended in air. Feet inches above the ground.
Their eyes moved. That was all.
Panic set in.
Some were screaming without sound. Some were crying. Some wet themselves.
Ran's heart pounded. He couldn't feel his limbs.
Then—
POP.
A mercenary's head exploded like a melon.
Blood sprayed in a cone across two others.
Then another.
POP.
Then three more.
POP. POP. POP.
Their skulls burst into fragments. Brains and blood splattered like fireworks.
The air smelled like iron and piss.
Ran watched in horror, his jaw still locked. His breathing shallow. His mind spiraling.
This was the second time he felt this kind of despair.
The first time was when he was twelve—when he came back from the woods and suffered mana drain.
But this…
This was worse.
Because now, it wasn't just pain or sickness.
This was death.
Inevitable.
Merciless.
Unstoppable.
'What do I do?'
The thought repeated.
'What do I do?'
His mind clung to it like a drowning man to driftwood.
'What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?'
He couldn't fight. He couldn't flee.
Even his thoughts were starting to crumble.