Red liquid dripped from the ceiling of the massive tunnel the group walked through, a surprising amount of light existing within. They'd experienced the same thing descending into the Devil's Den, where there were no torches. In fact, Worthy suspected that the settlement didn't require the sources of light it had. Instead, the place would've been sufficiently lit on its own.
There were shadows concealing the walls, but the oddities in its formation were evident.
Knowing they were walking through a corpse, Worthy understood that the wall probably consisted of thousands of other absorbed abominations. Thankfully, nothing was moving, nor did it appear that anything was inside of it.
"I can't get used to how odd the light is here."
Darkness was something very familiar to the young man. When there was no electricity, they'd huddle around fires for warmth and a source of light. Not needing to worry about darkness was something Worthy was starting to fear, because he did not want himself to grow comfortable.
This was only the First Floor. As hard as it was to believe, his ascension to the higher floors would be arduous, and many things would change. This was only a droplet of water in a massive ocean. Thus, growing too used to the environment would not benefit him later down the line.
Nevertheless, another source of anxiety was the fear that something in this tunnel would contract. The carcasses of the flesh monsters were not special. Once they were damaged enough to be considered dead, the piles did not go anywhere. Oftentimes, they'd sometimes be absorbed into the ground or assimilated by another abomination to allow it to grow stronger.
Still, the massive worm that War fought that burrowed through the titanic wall was not normal.
'If I had to fight something like that, I'd probably be swallowed whole before I knew what happened.'
In a strange turn of events, however, Worthy also realized how ludicrous it was to be walking in a deceased abomination. He half-expected to see a series of arteries and veins that were failing to produce life to the thing. Now, however, he was pleasantly disappointed. Within the creatures, there was no obvious means to explain how it once lived. No heart nor organs, despite consuming so many who possessed those things.
The Flesh Monsters were not carried by any known scientific means. Science became irrelevant in the mystical tower anyway. No, the abominations stood and walked simply because it was the will of their existence. Nothing explained it, but it happened. Thus, when something that should kill them delivered meaningful damage, so too would they be willed to die.
Through all his worries, nothing happened even after half an hour had passed.
Nobody went missing or was sucked into the ground. There were no fights, and the group had even erupted into different conversations once they realized how safe the place was. It was like the abominations hadn't entered the tunnel at all.
'Does that mean… that monsters don't wander beyond the boundary of that big wall?'
There were many ways to get around the wall. Humans did not take the path because it was long and dangerous, the threat of being attacked omnipresent no matter what path you venture through. Likewise, Worthy believed that only a few monsters had actually taken the time to venture around the great wall. There was plenty of prey on either side without the need to migrate, lest there be something to draw attention.
The child felt uncomfortable, even with all this knowledge. He felt like he was missing an important variable, but nothing came to mind.
War battled a titanic beast and killed it. Its corpse made a tunnel through the great wall.
That fact alone should not have made him unsettled. Abominations did not release the creatures they'd assimilated with after dying. Instead, the waste just… was. The carcass became a pile of gore with no purpose, except perhaps to fuel another abomination that may come to use it as sustenance to grow itself.
While he was thinking about what he could be missing, the group slowed to a halt when War raised his hand, followed by a few others, leading all the way to the end of the traveling party.
"Huh? What're we stopping for?" Someone asked, not receiving an answer.
Something must've been in front of them, blocking the way. No, that wasn't a possibility either. War could clear a path for them without needing the group to stop altogether.
Worthy knew better than to wait, unlike the person. Quickly, he made his way up to the front of the group, unimpeded by anyone.
Everyone was looking around, suddenly a bit more on edge at their halt of progress through the tunnel. Thoughts of the worst case scenario blossomed to life in their minds, but they quickly regained their composure by the time the child reached the front. Tightening their grips on their equipment, the group readied for an ambush or something of the sorts.
The roadblock ahead was shocking. Because, it was not a roadblock whatsoever, but instead a person — or rather, a group of people.
At least, what remained of a group of armored Knights, torn asunder by an unknown force.
'Holy…?! What could've done something like that?!' The child's face lost color at the scene ahead.
A series of tents and bags were lying about, some damaged and others unharmed but stained by the color of blood. Bags carrying supplies were scattered here and there, enchanted weaponry that the Knights once boasted embedded into various locations around the camp.
Corpses were spread around, the dismembered limbs and torso making it impossible to tell just how many had fallen here.
Broken fragments of blessed steel were lying around, some maintaining a vibrant glow while the energy in others had long dwindled. Their weapons and supplies looked undamaged in comparison to what was left of the knights and their armor.
In this tunnel, away from prying eyes, a group of soldiers that composed one of the world's mightiest forces were torn apart, massacred.
What was more horrifying was not the fact that a massacre of unrealistic scale was in front of the child. He'd seen more than his fair share of bodies in Malas Town, and had seen quite a few people devoured alive by living flesh on his way here.
In fact, what made him weary was the fact that these men had not been devoured at all. Each and every man in this group had been torn apart. Some limbs were ripped, others were cut through, and in some places, bite marks were visible — but their corpses were still here.
These men were not killed by Flesh Monsters. Rather, they'd been torn apart by someone with sentience, a human being.
'No, I can't assume that just yet. There isn't a human alive who should be able to do this to a group of Knights, unless they were a powerful Climber or Holy Knight.'
Beside War, Walkyr emerged and whistled a long, impressive sound. "Hot-damn! This 'yer handiwork, Reaver?"
War was speechless for a moment. No, he was quiet for far longer than a moment, and for good reason. These men, though they were far too young to be anyone he'd met before entering the tower, were his brothers in arms. Knights all swore the same oaths and fought for the same cause. Each was willing to give their lives for their nation and possessed enough power to tear through groups of mundane men.
So, to see a group of these comrades decimated in the belly of a beast that he killed…
The man must've first questioned if this was the result of an attack he delivered to the beast. Quickly, that line of thinking was dismissed; nonsensical.
"No. There is no Knight who would raise arms against their brother. To be more precise… Though I am not bound by the same restrictions as an ordinary Knight, that isn't to say I am inexperienced enough to have my own brothers caught in the crossfires of my war. No, Gunslinger. This was not my handiwork."
War's voice shook the air, a deep and powerful connection of words making the sharpshooter's hairs stand on edge. A smile stretched over his face before he realized it, unconscious steps moving him away from the Holy Knight before he could be caught in the middle of some rage-fueled punch.
Several minutes later, War and a few others were scavenging the camp.
'These guys… they're the knights from the first day.' On that day, he'd seen a group of 50 knights. He suspected that 40 of them were Enlisted Knights, which could explain how this massacre unfolded. Nevertheless, that did not make this any less disheartening.
Enlisted Knights were nothing to scoff at. If some of the best fighters in the group were to fight them without the assistance of War, it'd undoubtedly be a difficult battle. This was accounting for powerhouses like Walkyr and Cross, as well as Hiel's Mephistophelian Beast.
"...There are no 'Knights' among these men." War eventually spoke, and the group understood his meaning. All of the deceased, however many of them there were, had truly been Enlisted Knights.
"All of these men were Enlisted, seeking to prove their worth and rise the ranks. Ambitious boys and girls who had their lives snuffed far too early."
No one said a word. Old Lady Haul seemed to be uncharacteristically unsettled, her face scrunching as she looked around. It wasn't the death that bothered her, but something else.
War could not create graves for the deceased. It'd take too much time to individually identify which parts belonged to which person. They were on a time-sensitive expedition, so he had the group collect whatever valuable equipment they could find.
The enchanted armor was all but destroyed, but some components like their vambraces could be used to give enchanted protection.
Useful equipment was shared throughout the group, and in the end, they had an estimate for how many people were present in the camp based on the number of Divine Swords shared.
'17 Enlisted Knights, butchered in the stomach of a giant flesh-eating worm. That… is a scary thought.'
By the time they were setting off to depart again, they'd also managed to roll up some of the undamaged tents for future camping, though it would not be useful on this floor. Worthy already had camping equipment buried somewhere in his impossibly deep bag, so he wasn't concerned about that.
Instead, he really wished to get his hands on a Divine Sword. He wasn't strong enough to lift one or wield it effectively, and his Blood Knife was strong enough to compete with the cutting power of the weapons, yet he still felt greedy.
Thus, as they progressed deeper into the tunnel, an unspoken question was shared across the Army of Hope.
For the first time, or hopefully the first time, they'd witnessed the result of humans fighting each other. They'd seen Enlisted Knights, who could battle groups of soldiers alone, torn apart and beaten in a one-sided massacre, obviously because of the lack of blood on some of the shining blades.
Whoever was responsible had gone through this tunnel, dispatching the group they'd come across an unknown time ago — but certainly some time within the last week. So, they must've been a rather great distance away by now, since the battle looked to be a few days old.
Everyone wanted to know which way out of the tunnel the perpetrator had gone.
Did they go out the way they were heading to? Would a confrontation with the murderer be inevitable? Could War Reaver, their bastion, possibly overcome such fearsome might that left a group of powerful warriors helpless?
Or perhaps the killer had gone out the same way they came in. Maybe that person was now far behind them, searching for a gateway by butchering anything that crossed their path.
Whatever the case may be, Worthy had a sneaking suspicion. A suspicion that inevitably, they will meet the killer, with better or worse odds in their favor.