It wasn't my initial plan,' Carnage thinks, the two demonic cores pulsing in his palms like beating hearts. 'There are too many variables. The cores could not be enough to ascend him to the first rank or Elzub could be lying. However, the rewards of its succession is worth it. It would be an other thing marked as truth and Evrad would become a useful ally.'
"How could you!" Flor's raspy scream tears through the chamber as she collapses to her knees. "No, no, no!"
Her hands clamp over Evrad's bleeding neck, trying to stop what cannot be stopped, her eyes wide with panic.
"Stop…" Ernest grabs her arm, dragging her back as anger suddenly overtakes him. "It's pointless! Look at him!"
Flor staggers, breath shuddering, as Evrad's body begins to convulse. His flesh twists, fingers stretching into long claws, blackened veins bursting across his skin like cracks in glass.
"The… hell?" Atticus whispers, backing away.
"That thing was no human," Ernest mutters, guilt rotting his voice from the inside out.
The blood pouring from Evrad's throat is not red, but a thick, lightless black. It pools at their feet, undeniable now.
「Last skinwalker defeated!」
「6/6」
"He was a…" Flor's stomach turns. "And I was…" She covers her mouth, gagging. "It can't be."
"Yes." Ernest steadies her. "I knew. For a while. I just needed to be sure, that's why I asked Carnage."
'Perfect,' Carnage thinks, already moving. 'No more time to hesitate.'
He steps over the fallen skinwalker and drops to one knee.
"Carnage," Ernest warns, dread curling in his chest. "What are you planning?"
No answer.
「Text extracted from Elzub's Guidebook: To activate the glitch, you must cave into the beast's chest and place the core beside the monster's own.」
Carnage draws the shard from his inventory. For a moment, all eyes lock on him. Then he drives it straight into Evrad's chest. A collective gasp fills the chamber as bone cracks and black blood sprays across Carnage's face and clothes. He digs deeper, merciless.
"What is he doing?" Flor whispers.
"I… I don't know," Ernest says, and somehow that's worse.
Carnage's fingers close around something solid inside the ruin of flesh, a darkened core, still faintly pulsing. Without hesitation, he presses the two glowing cores beside it.
The outer chamber holds its breath.
"What are you doing?" someone croaks.
The seconds stretch.
Then energy tears free from the two cores, warping the air as it pours into the hollowed one. The three orbs fuse into a single violent glow. Evrad's bones snap and reform, flesh knitting itself together, talons retracting.
"Don't tell me…" Ernest stumbles back. "You're bringing him back."
"Yes." Carnage stands as a sudden gasp tears from behind him. "That is exactly what I've done." He glances back, smiling faintly. "Welcome back. Now you can call yourself worthy."
"I was…" Evrad grips his healed throat. "I was dead, wasn't I?"
"For almost a minute," Carnage replies calmly.
"Then how am I alive?" Evrad rises, and the others recoil.
"This is impossible," Flor murmurs.
"What's impossible in Coronach can be possible in hell. Don't think so small." Carnage says smoothly. "Evrad, I have a question."
"Yes… anything." Evrad stares at him, desperation hollowing out his eyes.
"Is that name yours or did you steal it from the one who's face you wear?"
"It was stolen." He answers, guilt souring his tone.
"Then, give yourself a new name. Don't wear a stolen one." He commands. "So, what should I call you."
Evrad pauses for a moment, thinking deeply. "Call me Nuru."
"Nuru it is." Carnage turns toward the entrance of inner chamber. "Time is scarce, we must move."
Ernest, Flor, and Atticus stare at Carnage and Nuru like they're staring at two walking sins. Slowly, reluctantly, Nuru falls into step beside him. After a heartbeat, Ernest does too.
"I can't," Flor chokes. "He's a monster. You expect me to stand beside him?"
"You were clutching him a moment ago," Carnage replies without looking back. "Right up until you learned what he was." He pauses at the doorway. "If you'd rather stay behind, then do so. Rot here with your prejudice. This is hell, not your privileged little world. Adapt… or die."
He steps through. Ernest looks back once at Flor and Atticus, fear and survival wrestle in their eyes until survival wins and they follow.
.
.
'It's massive' Carnage thinks, surveying the area. 'I can hardly see where the ceiling lies.' He continues until his vision lands on a lone stone stand, a closed book hovering a few inches above it.
A few seconds later, they reached up to it, and with careful hands, Carnage turned it open to the first page.
.
.
.
The Skreigh village was famed for its tourists, who flocked each year to stroll along its winding cobblestone streets, tempted by the colorful wares of countless vendors.
Its taverns buzzed with life, the most renowned being Whalewick's Hut, where laughter and music spilled into the streets. Its owner, Whalewick the Third, came from a long line of successors and lived happily with his wife, Cassandra, and their daughter, Bella, a bright bundle of joy with baby-blue eyes whom he praised almost as fondly as his daily customers.
Past the old church, which the townsfolk used as their town hall, stretched the forest, a sea of vibrant trees whose hues formed a living tapestry that lured visitors deeper into its beauty.
The village was a haven, a blissful escape from the troubles of the first dimension, a place untouched by evil.
At least, it was…
The first whispers of a skinwalker came from Old Man Crow, a withered hermit on the village's edge. No one trusted him, and he was dismissed as a madman. His warnings came during preparations for the town's anniversary celebration.
He ran through the streets, chanting words no one understood, shouting of the village's end, of a monster hidden in their midst, waiting to feast.
No one listened.
Yet change crept in.
Some villagers began acting strangely, showing subtle differences in their faces, voices, and habits. Then the unraveling began. Whalewick and Cassandra's marriage soured, their nightly quarrels echoing through the village. The tavern stayed shut for days. Bella was no longer seen playing in the streets with the town's kids, and the scent of Cassandra's honey buns no longer lingered in the air, and soon a foul stench clung to the tavern's walls. One by one, customers stopped coming.
Soon, the celebration came, and with it, the end Old Man Crow had foretold. In the midst of music and dancing, Whalewick appeared no longer like himself; he began to scream, revealing the truth to everyone. He told the villagers of his wife, of a being that wore her face, claiming the life of his beloved and his kin.
Then, as if it were a cue, the ones who had acted strangely revealed their true forms as skinwalkers. They tore into the crowd, feasting and terrorizing without mercy. From the chaos emerged something greater: Enkindle, a Lesser demon classed monster who promised to erase Skreigh from existence.
In their darkest hour, Old Man Crow returned. He carried with him four black boxes, artifacts that possessed sealing abilities. The people worked together, carving the letters of their village's name into wood planks of differing fonts, then painted them in varying colors before locking them away within the boxes. Each box was placed in a different site of significance, each one fed by a source of power.
One was buried deep in the forest, drawing energy from the land itself to keep its seal unbroken. Another was hidden in the attic of Whalewick's tavern, sustained by the lingering life force of his daughter and the remains of his own. The last was lowered into the basement chambers of the church, where countless villagers gave their lives in sacrifice to empower it.
Afterwards, the scribes recorded Skreigh's history into a single book, and within the last box, they sealed Enkindle. To stop his return and to save what remained of their home, they destroyed every trace of their village, every relic, and every reminder.
And time answered their sacrifice with retribution, halting their entire village but its people in place.
.
.
.
'So that's the innkeeper's story,' Carnage thinks as they continue to flip through the pages, each one folded with the history of the old town; from the records of ancestors, to the first council, to those who shaped the village into what it became. They bear witness to everything that was hidden, to what made them who they were before time was stopped.
At last, they reached the final page and the book closes.
Flor sniffles, forcing the tears back, while Artticus breaks down completely, sobbing as tears and snot mix while he wails. Ernest stays quiet, lost in his thoughts. Nuru only watches.
Carnage… Carnage feels fulfilled, yet still far from worthy. As if what he did wasn't enough, as if something vital is still missing from it all. Everything was too easy.
「QUEST COMPLETED!」
<<
"We did it…" Everyone's shock turns into joy, even Carnage's.
'Just in time—'
「NIGHTMARE: Once you have completed the quest, you have a 50% chance of gaining an additional quest.」
'Huh?'
「Additional quest: Defeat Enkindle!」
「Demonic beast grade: (C) Lesser Demon」
「Power level: 500」
"Grade C beast?" Flor's face twists in confusion.
The earth under their feet begins to shake, and the stone stands open, revealing another black box.
'Enkindle.' Carnage recognizes grimly.
"I'm here!" Agnar hurries in, battered and bruised, her two swords covered in black blood, the stone door slamming shut behind her.
"According to the guidebook, monsters are ranked by grade. The lowest, Grade D known as Torment, begins at a power level of 100. From there, the ranks ascend in strength and rarity, with the highest currently known grade being the Dimension Wardens, existing beyond Grade SSS." Ernest explains. "This creature's rank stands as the second teir above Grade D- classified as a Lesser Demon. Don't allow it to fool you though, the power levels between each ascent is vast. Even if everyone joined forces, we wouldn't stand a chance of defeating it."
"So in other words, ya fucked." Artticus says, Agnar joining their side, as they watch in apprehension as the black box rises in the air above them.
'It can't be…all of that for nothing.' Carnage thinks. 'I have to be forgetting something , a hidden peice.'
"You look scared, Carnage." Agnar voices, passing him the sword. "You're giving up already?"
"No. Never." He takes it.
'I'll figure it out as I go; I must.'
"You guys plan on fighting that thing?" Flor inquires.
"There lies no other options." Agnar slips into a fighting stance.
"Both of you can't fight that thing alone and survive, haven't you heard what Ernest said?" Flor shouts back.
"Either way, we're dead if we lose this quest." Carnage says sternly. "How many critcal healing do you have?"
"One, as with basic healing." She states.
"Noted."
The black box convulsed, hairline cracks racing across its surface before it split open with a deafening eruption. A wave of energy burst out, hurling them back and forcing hands to shield their faces as surge after surge crashed against them.
Amidst the storm of energy, they slightly lowered their arms, only to fall into a tense silence, eyes locked on the horror forming before them.
It resembled the smaller skinwalker they had faced, but this was a nightmare magnified tenfold in size, its demonic core not hidden within but grafted grotesquely to its chest, glowing a furious crimson with black veins crawling outward like roots.
Jagged bones jutted through its flesh, shaping a crude, armored frame. Its talons are long, warped, and dripping with a tar-like fluid that turns the stone stand into dust when it strikes it.
"Yep, I repeat, we're fucked."