When the intimidating aura finally subsided, Rosacer peeked out of the building. The alleyway now looked silent.
He waited for a moment, searching for any movement. When he finally confirmed that there was no one, he stepped out.
Moving slowly along the wall, his eyes constantly scanned for the slightest hint of danger. Using his grafted sigil, he conjured more eyes, though five was his limit. His brain was already frying from all the incoming information. His intuition warned him that he could only maintain them for a few more seconds.
Fortunately, there were no surprises this time. He crossed the alley safely.
Beyond his sight lay rubble and broken buildings, with narrow passages between them forming a maze.
But it was not too far.
The heavier mist curled at the border. The Southern Sector was now within sight. He could see the familiar fog, thick enough to feel as though it compressed his chest.
Before his grafted eyes could collapse, they suddenly caught a movement. Slippery tentacles were creeping closer and closer. Their target was one of the cult members who had been hiding meters away.
The tentacles shot out from the darkness, their source concealed by pitch-black mist. They seized the Plague Priest and wrapped around him. Slowly, they tightened their grip, smothering the priest as he groaned in desperate pleas.
Crunching sounds of bones reverberated as the victim's internal organs were being squished into a smoothie.
When the tentacles finally sensed no movement, they scurried back into the dark.
Rosacer had already hidden behind the rubble, his five eyes collapsing one by one. He watched the tentacles retreat into the shadows, holding his breath the entire time.
When everything was finally over and silence returned, he dashed toward the broken city, his steps light yet fast. After defeating Darious, he had grown much stronger and faster. His nimble legs were swift and agile enough to make him one of the fastest creatures left on earth.
Broken buildings swayed as he passed. Some collapsed, crashing down with thunderous noise. But beneath the chaos, he heard something else.
A bell.
His eyes widened in horror. The sound was right beside him. He turned on instinct, but there was no one there.
Then, from the corner of his vision, he spotted it.
A monster holding a staff with a bell, a dreadful smile hidden beneath the shadows of its hooded face. A dark cloak draped over its form. It was watching him.
"Crap… the Bell Monster." Rosacer gritted his teeth and ran faster.
He summoned his Gewehr, loading it with his own blood. He grafted a crude arm with a thumb and handed the weapon to it.
Gewehr roared as the trigger was pressed. Perhaps the panic and terror in Rosacer's blood made the shots unstable. But accuracy was not what he wanted. Only distraction. He kept firing without pause.
Blood bullets tore into rubble. Some struck the creature, but they did nothing. It moved through them as if they were smoke.
Rosacer could not conjure more body parts. He had reached his limit. Without extra eyes, he could only guess the creature's distance by the chime of the bells. Worse, the sound itself caused illusions. The ringing felt closer than the monster truly was.
With no way to judge its position, fear flooded him.
He cried out to the system.
"Nightmare Realm. Now."
But instead of the world shifting in hue, a window appeared before him.
[Cooldown: 60 days remaining.]
He roared in anger. Now it did not matter if he stayed quiet. The monster had already marked him. It was closing in, slowly but relentlessly.
He tried to place obstacles in its path, turning sharp corners to lose the chase, but nothing worked. It was as if a tracker had been planted on him. No matter what he did, the monster always found his exact location.
For a brief moment, he lost the monster again. He rushed into a nearby building, its entrance broken, and hid inside.
Breathing heavily, he called out to the system. "Tell me about that monster."
The window appeared once more.
[A monster from corrupted power…]
Then it closed again. It did not even mention the creature's class.
Frustrated and desperate, Rosacer ran again. He could already feel that the monster had found him. Jumping through a shattered window, he landed back on the street.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he heard it.
The bell.
Right beside him.
"Damn it, he is clo—"
Suddenly, he felt something tap him on the head.
Clang
The window appeared again.
[You have been enslaved.]
[Master: Gordon of Might (Corrupted)]
His eyes widened in horror as the swaying cloak brushed against his neck.
Without hesitation, he flicked his fingers. Pale yellow flames engulfed his body.
Pain surged from his nerves straight into his brain, overwhelming, crushing. Now he felt the agony he had once inflicted on Darious. His eyes swelled. Tears poured down as he slowly burned, flesh smoldering and blackening.
The monster watched in silence. Perhaps there was an expression on its face, but it was concealed beneath the ugly smile it wore.
It stayed still.
Moments passed.
Finally, realizing that his slave had chosen death, the dreadful, smiling Bell Monster turned away and began to walk back.
The cries and the crackling of burning flesh echoed through the maze of ruins. Yet no creature dared to come closer, as if something terrifying roamed the streets that day.
Long, thread-like strands of hair slowly slipped out from beneath the bell, spreading through the maze, searching.
The monster continued forward, its stride slow and unhurried.
Within the Blight Flames, Rosacer's screams finally ceased.
He was dead.
Mist curled around the still-warm, burned body, trying to steal the last traces of heat from it.
Suddenly, flowers burst from the corpse, only to wither moments later. They crumbled into a dark veil that draped over the remains. Beneath it, regeneration began. Flesh reformed, bones set, and soon enough, a human body took shape once more.
His clothes followed. As if sensing his return, the dark suit wove itself back onto him, fitting perfectly.
Rosacer drew a shaky breath. "It worked."
He quickly checked his status. The word enslaved was gone.
"It was Gordon…" he muttered. "But isn't he in the Northern Sector?"