Victory cries rose to the sky as the marks of battle shone on the soldiers like medals. Blood and sweat lingered in the air, a heavy, suffocating curtain.
Exhausted but drunk on triumph, the soldiers tried to smile at one another.
At last… this nightmare was ending.
It had to end.
A guard raised his sword, panting heavily.
"Vict—"
Before he could finish his sentence, something shot up from beneath the ground.
Hot. Wet. Slippery.
A texture resembling human flesh… but something that shouldn't belong to a human.
A hand, a grotesque nightmare of raw meat, lashed out and wrapped around the guard's leg.
His eyes widened. That victorious smile twisted into sheer terror.
"Ahh! Ahh, no! Help me!"
His scream drowned out all other sounds in the fortress.
A few soldiers turned to look at him— but it was too late. That hand… was pulling him down.
As if he were sinking into a swamp.
But this swamp was warm. And alive.
The Flesh Sphere…
Yosukez's mind rang with warning bells. Deep inside, something primal in him recoiled in horror.
"No."
"We completely forgot about it."
Some of the guards rushed forward, grabbing the man's arms, pulling with all their strength. But it was no use.
First his leg. Then his waist. Then his torso…
With a single, grotesque gulp, the man was swallowed whole by the Flesh Sphere.
And in that moment…
A deadly silence fell over the battlefield.
The guards stared at each other, paralyzed with horror. Nothing moved.
But then… the Flesh Sphere began to shift.
First, its surface quivered. The muscles and tissues within writhed, reshaping themselves.
It was becoming something.
Then…
A face emerged.
That face.
The face of the soldier who had just been devoured.
Identical. Same eyes. Same nose. Same scars.
But the eyes…
They were empty.
The guards staggered back. Some couldn't even breathe.
Then, one of them, suppressing his terror, raised his sword and roared:
"Come on! This is the last one! No time for fear! If we kill this thing, we win!"
His words silenced their panic for a moment. Some hesitated, but the others gritted their teeth, lifted their swords, and charged with a battle cry.
The fight had begun.
The first soldier raised his blade high and swung down with all his might.
Steel slashed through flesh.
But—
A hand shot out of the Flesh Sphere and clamped onto the soldier's wrist.
His eyes widened. He pulled with all his strength, but the grip was too powerful— he couldn't move an inch.
Then— with a swift motion, another guard slashed the grotesque hand, severing it at the wrist.
But no blood poured out.
The severed hand hovered in the air for a moment. Then, it dropped to the ground.
The attack didn't stop. Guards swarmed the Flesh Sphere from all sides. Blades tore through its hide. Flesh was ripped apart, blood splattered.
But something was wrong.
Every severed chunk of flesh fell to the ground… yet no wounds remained. The torn flesh regenerated instantly, sealing the injuries within seconds.
And the worst part…
The Flesh Sphere wasn't fighting back.
It just stood there.
Waiting.
Yosukez froze.
His eyes darted to the scattered flesh on the ground.
And then he realized.
The soldiers' feet…
They were inside the flesh.
At first, no one noticed. Amidst the chaos and the stench of blood, no one paid attention to where they were standing.
But now…
Now it was too late.
A shiver of dread ran through Yosukez's spine as he screamed:
"Fall back! It's a trap!"
Some tried to retreat— but when they moved, they realized…
They were stuck.
"I… I can't move!"
"My feet are stuck! Help me!"
The others desperately tried to pull their comrades free. But no matter how hard they struggled, they couldn't break free.
And then…
The Flesh Sphere exploded.
Like an eruption, chunks of raw meat burst outward, latching onto the trapped soldiers.
Screams filled the battlefield.
And from within…
A figure emerged.
But… was it really a person?
Its body was still an amalgamation of flesh. Stitched together, incomplete.
But its face…
Its face was identical.
The soldier who had just been devoured.
Like a newborn creature, it stared at the world with confusion.
Then… its voice echoed.
Deep. Hollow. Eerily human.
"Who… am I?"
The words rippled across the battlefield.
No one moved.
Then, suddenly, it moved.
It was so fast— before the guard next to it could even react, it appeared right beside him.
The creature gazed into the man's eyes.
"I asked you. Who am I?"
The guard trembled. His breath was erratic.
"I-I don't know!"
The new creature tilted its head.
Then, placing a hand on the man's chest, it whispered:
"I… remember this. Like someone taught me before."
Omicron Death Techniques, Number Eight: Heart Remover.
In an instant, its hand plunged into the guard's chest.
Flesh and bone shattered instantly.
The guard couldn't even scream. His eyes turned white.
The creature pulled out his trembling heart.
It stared at it for a moment.
Then…
It put it into its mouth.
Blood dripped down its lips. Its eyes closed. It felt something.
And it whispered:
"Strange… Eating a heart… does something to my body."
The remaining guards shivered. One of them clenched his teeth and roared:
"You bastard! You took our friend's form?!"
The creature turned to him.
Its eyes darkened.
And, in an eerily human voice, it replied:
"Took… his form? You call me… an imitation?"
At that moment, they all understood.
This creature…
It was truly gaining consciousness.
Yosukez stepped forward.
"Hey… monster."
The creature looked at him.
"What are you?"
"And why the hell are you doing this?"
The creature…
Had no answer.
Because even it didn't know.
Yosukez took a deep breath, pushing down the fear rising within him. He knew this battle wouldn't be easy.
His eyes locked onto the flesh creature, his fingers tightening around his sword's hilt.
"Form up behind me," he ordered, his voice steady. "If we fight together, we have a better chance of winning."
The soldiers quickly fell into formation behind him. There were fifteen of them left.
The remaining five guards stood near Fauriel.
Fauriel…
The fat man's body crouched low, his breathing erratic, his eyes filled with fear. The stress and panic were wearing him down. He wanted to escape from here— as soon as possible.
And as he looked at the scene before him, he made his decision.
While Yosukez and his soldiers prepared to battle the monstrous creature, Fauriel clenched his teeth and, with a trembling voice, gave his order:
"Hey! You… Listen to me!"
The five guards in front of him immediately turned to him.
"What is it, Lord Fauriel?"
The man took a deep breath and, despite his trembling, forced himself to stand up.
"We're leaving. While they fight that thing, take care of that old man and open the gate!"
The guards hesitated for a moment. Leaving their comrades behind on the battlefield…
But the seriousness and fear in Fauriel's eyes pushed them into action.
They lowered their heads and silently followed him toward the gate.
When they reached it, a man was waiting for them.
Jiho.
An old yet unwavering figure, standing tall. A long black cane rested in his hand.
His eyes shifted toward the approaching guards.
There was no anger in his expression. No surprise.
Only deep, unwavering resolve.
One of the guards stepped forward, gritting his teeth as if trying to leave behind the horror of the battlefield. He spoke harshly:
"Hey, old servant! Open the damn gate!"
Jiho's expression didn't change. His gaze swept over the men before him. And in a steady voice, completely devoid of fear, he spoke:
"This old man… cannot allow you to leave."
Fauriel's eyebrows twitched. His fear was slowly giving way to frustration.
"W-What do you mean you can't?! You're just a servant! I can give you anything to open that gate. If you serve me instead of that pathetic lord, I'll grant you whatever you desire!"
Jiho didn't react. Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face.
He simply lifted his head slightly.
Then…
His eyes landed on Raviene, who was seated in the distance.
And he… smiled.
"This old man… already has everything he wants."
An indescribable fury ignited within Fauriel. His fists clenched tight.
"So you're refusing…?"
He took a deep breath, then turned to his guards.
"In that case… kill him. And open the gate."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances.
But the desperate need to escape crushed any sense of morality they had left.
They stepped forward.
One of them sighed.
"This isn't what we wanted either… but we have to get out of here."
Jiho's face remained unreadable.
He simply… slowly tapped his cane against the ground.
And then, his voice rang out— deep, firm, and absolute:
"If you cross this line… I will not be held responsible."
But no one listened.
The first guard took a step forward.
Jiho tapped his cane against the ground again.
And in that instant—
An explosion.
The sound was deafening.
The guard's body detonated like a bomb.
Blood and flesh splattered in every direction.
Where he had stood, there was nothing left but a crimson stain. His skull, his lungs, his limbs… Everything had been utterly obliterated.
Blood splattered across the faces of the remaining four guards. Their eyes widened in sheer horror.
Fauriel was blown back by the shockwave, tumbling onto the ground. His silk robes were drenched in warm blood.
The guards stood frozen.
Jiho remained where he was, standing tall.
And his voice… had not changed.
"This old man warned you," he said coldly.
"If you cross this line… I take no responsibility."