Endless Debt Chapter 1077 - 111: Carrion Body (Part 3)
Previously on Endless Debt...
The glare of the Fourth Seat was fixed and unwavering.
He observed the monster's limb twisting unnaturally, its very cells and muscles succumbing to destruction and collapse. The creature's body underwent a constant process of shrinking and contorting, accompanied by ear-splitting screams that seemed to rip the very air asunder.
Shortly thereafter, a dreadful sound of mastication echoed.
Casually plucking a corpse from the debris, it bit off the head, extracted the spinal cord, and commenced its pathological consumption. All the while, its throat emitted a continuous wail, and its convulsing limbs pulsed with formidable power.
With swift efficiency, the corpse was finished. The monstrous entity then began to rummage through the ruins with ravenous hunger, devouring one head after another as its distorted form commenced a rapid regeneration.
This was 'Protection·Bloodthirsty Healing'.
The cruel protection bestowed by that lady had now become the very source of its vigorous recovery.
The Fourth Seat had never encountered a monstrosity like this.
Agonizing moans erupted once more; its body was wracked with unbearable torment, as if being mercilessly lacerated by a thousand blades. Every muscle fiber, every segment of skin twitched uncontrollably, eliciting the emergence of bruises that spread across its form.
Amidst the rampant proliferation of fleshy tumors, the Fourth Seat discerned vestiges of nearly shattered armor... it was the First Seat's armor.
The Fourth Seat felt his breath catch in his throat.
He witnessed the mass of flesh expanding exponentially, the creature struggling to support its own bulk. Its body writhed and rolled ceaselessly, intertwined in a grotesque tangle, limbs flailing in a desperate, futile attempt to grasp for stability, ultimately confined to a groveling state on the ground.
Its teeth ground together with a sharp, cracking sound.
"The... First Seat?"
In a response devoid of logical reasoning, the Fourth Seat uttered that name.
The monster abruptly lifted its blood-drenched head. Its gaze fell upon the Fourth Seat, and a peculiar, unsettling giggle escaped its throat.
"Fourth Seat? You've arrived at the perfect moment."
Upon hearing the disquieting voice, the Fourth Seat instinctively recoiled, an overwhelming premonition of peril surging within him.
He had encountered whispers, rumors of a monstrous entity lurking within the Pillar of Royal Authority. It was said to hold sway over the current King of Slaughter and several of the King's Secret Swords. Even the Red Dog had purportedly descended into madness after becoming aware of this creature's existence... The Fourth Seat had previously dismissed these tales as mere enemy propaganda, designed to sow discord and undermine their unity.
Now, he understood: it was no rumor.
The muscles on the monster's back continued to swell dramatically, appearing on the verge of explosion. Its internal organs seemed to be compressed by the burgeoning flesh, threatening to be crushed. The groans intensified, becoming more piercing, their sound imbued with a chilling despair and terror, as if proclaiming to the world: 'I have endured the apex of agony.'
The Plague of Decay, an alchemical agent synthesized by man, was classified as an Extraordinary Disaster due to its unfathomably lethal properties.
The First Seat had borne the brunt of the Plague of Decay's initial impact, acting as a crucial buffer that significantly minimized its pervasive influence. Had it not been for this intervention, such a potent concentration of the Plague of Decay, upon detonation, would have annihilated everyone within the confines of the Great Rift.
This act was not motivated by any noble self-sacrificing spirit on the First Seat's part, but rather by a deliberate design orchestrated by the Shadow King and the Tyrant.
"Bastard!"
The First Seat bellowed in curses. Under the overwhelming influence of the Devil's Power, the Plague of Decay cascaded over his being like a relentless torrent; even a formidable cultivator like the Seeker of Glory would struggle to withstand such a concentrated assault.
Regardless of how many times he gnawed on the corpses buried beneath the rubble, his body's cycle of regeneration and decay persisted relentlessly.
"It's fortunate you are here... Fourth Seat."
Unyielding to the agony and terror, driven by immense willpower and resolve, he staggered to his feet. Flesh regenerated and then decayed anew, a swollen arm raising a severely damaged Skull Scythe.
By the time the Fourth Seat recognized the dire turn of events, it was already too late.
A whistling gale swept past him, his entire arm severed and sent flying.
"Such hideousness should not meet the eyes of others."
The bloodthirsty voice emanated from behind him. Before he could even turn his head, a colossal maw clamped onto the Fourth Seat's neck, effortlessly tearing away a substantial portion of flesh.
The unnerving sound of chewing resumed without cessation.
The Fourth Seat initiated an immediate counter-offensive. The wound began to Etherealize, the Alchemy Matrix ignited, and simultaneously, an Ether reaction far surpassing the Fourth Seat's own erupted.
This was the strength of the dying, the deranged, the Seeker of Glory.
Faced with the ultimate existential threat, the ensuing battle was tragically brief.
The Fourth Seat collapsed onto the ground, his gaze filled with despair as he looked upward. The incessant rustling of chewing sounds originated from his lower body. Following an extreme surge of pain, his senses grew numb.
Even his Etherealized body was inevitably consumed and swallowed by the monster; it drained his blood, channeling pure Ether down its gullet.
Eerie whispers mingled with the raw bloodlust.
"Great lady, I present you with fresh flesh."
The monster murmured its words while devouring the Fourth Seat's form, consuming him alive down to the very bone.
Not even the slightest fragment of bone was left behind.
The Defender's flesh, as it was consumed, gradually reversed the effects of the Plague of Decay upon him, and the consuming hunger he felt began to recede. With the final morsel of flesh devoured, the First Seat experienced a profound sense of satisfaction welling up from within his mouth, yet this was swiftly followed by the resurgence of an unending hunger. The Gourmand, by its very nature, is never truly sated. Utterly disoriented, the First Seat steadied himself with the Great Scythe. After tending to his bodily wounds, the dissipating Ether began to neutralize the surrounding intense concentration of the Plague of Decay. His eyes scanned the devastation of the ruins as the First Seat searched for the Shadow King's remains. When the Plague of Decay had erupted, both of them had taken the full force of the deadly Extraordinary Disaster. The First Seat was certain the Shadow King had perished, but even in death, he was determined to locate and completely devour his corpse. Only in this way could the First Seat's deep-seated resentment be appeased, only then could the lady be pleased with more flesh, and only then could the First Seat's subsequent plans unfold without a hitch. "Return Xilin's corpse to me," the King of Slaughter's voice echoed in his mind. "This matter is crucial for the Empire's survival." Enduring the excruciating pain radiating through his body, the First Seat powerfully swung the Great Scythe, its scarred blade smashing into the ground.