Karnak, Monarch of Death-Chapter 109: The House of Flesh (3)

This was an endless expanse of a nightmare. Walls of flesh quivered, closing in from both sides. The ceiling collapsed, extending blood-red tentacles that transformed into razor-sharp spears, piercing through bodies.

A scream broke the silence. "Aaaahhh!"

Continuing forward meant nothing but destruction. They ran, fleeing from the collapsing world behind them in a frantic dash. It was futile. The world crumbled far faster than they could escape.

"Aaaahhhh!"

They howled and howled again, for there were no other options. Around them, their comrades fell one by one. Tentacles coiled around throats, yanking limbs clean off. The floor and ceiling crushed bodies together, grinding them into pulp. Fluids splattered and splashed in every direction, while everything was crushed, mangled, and torn apart.

No matter how fast they ran, the nightmare never receded. The ceiling became the floor, walls transformed into windows, and a new corridor appeared beyond the shattered wall. A sea of blood surged forth, swallowing everything whole.

And beyond that endless nightmare, they stood. Cold eyes and expressions devoid of mercy unfolded hell itself onto reality, annihilating everything in their path.

All they could do was scream.

"Aaaahhhhh!"

In this terror and despair, screaming was the only freedom left to them.

"AAAAHHHHHHH!"

***

"Why does this feel like we're the villains?" Serati clicked her tongue as she gazed down the corridor.

Karnak and Varos both shook their heads.

"It's just your imagination."

"That's just leftover remnants of the hellscape. Just because something screams doesn't mean it's alive."

The scene before them was as follows: Winged monkeys and slime-like creatures were chasing after Karnak's group with wild abandon. But before they could get close, they were crushed by walls of flesh, entangled in rampaging tentacles, and torn apart.

"Kyaaaah!"

"Aaaaahhh!"

"Kiiiiaaah!"

This entire area was now under Karnak's complete control. He could manipulate the space however he pleased, slicing apart the monsters at will. Thanks to this, Varos and Serati had little to do. All they had to do was follow Karnak and remain on guard.

As they leisurely strolled over the skeletal floor, Karnak observed his surroundings with an oddly serene expression. "This feels much more familiar and comforting than that candy house nonsense, don't you think?"

Serati sighed. "It sounds ridiculous, but what's funny is that I actually understand what you mean."

Somehow, being surrounded by grotesque flesh and bones was less unsettling than the garish candy-filled corridors. It wasn't that this scenery was pleasant, but at least it lacked the dissonant unease that the previous environment had radiated.

Continuing onward, Karnak focused his mind. "Now then, where could Alius be?"

Though Karnak's control over the space was solid, it wasn't expansive. His ability to hijack domains was perfect, but his necromantic reach had its limits. So, they had to keep moving and searching. And along the way, monsters continued to swarm toward them, screaming incessantly.

The relentless cries of the monsters faded into the background as the group continued their march.

"Aha, is this it?"

The scene before them distorted and twisted like a whirlwind before revealing a massive entrance. Beyond the entrance lay a grand hall lavishly decorated with intricate confections. Cats in boots scurried about with trays in hand, and upon spotting Karnak's party, they let out warning cries.

"Meow!"

"Meow-meow!"

"Oh, my. Why are those cats meowing normally?" Serati asked, puzzled.

"It's because the distortion here is too strong," Karnak replied nonchalantly.

Her confusion only deepened. "Distortion is too strong? Then why are they normal again?"

"Do they look normal to you? That's not real-world normal. It's storybook normal."

Indeed, the boot-wearing cats weren't turning into slime monsters as before. Instead, they were frantically fleeing with their trays intact. They even ran on two legs. Indeed, they looked very much like characters from a fairy tale.

"I still don't quite get it...," Serati muttered, tilting her head just as something caught her eye. "Ah!"

Hanging from the vast ceiling of the hall were dozens of cages. She had been so distracted by the cats that she hadn't noticed until now. Inside each cage were the missing people, all shouting at the top of their lungs, but no voices could be heard.

Naturally, to Karnak's group, it looked as if the captives were merely opening and closing their mouths like fish gasping for air.

"Ah, they're alive," Karnak murmured calmly.

"Every single one of them," Varos added, equally composed.

"Why are so many of them still alive?"

"What are you two doing just standing there? We need to rescue them—"

Serati started to take a step toward the cages.

"Hold up." Varos stopped her, gesturing around the hall. "Why is everything still made of candy, young master?"

It was then that Serati sensed something was wrong. The surroundings were still covered in vibrant confections. Normally, Karnak's influence would have turned this place into a grotesque hall of flesh, yet it remained untouched.

"I told you. The distortion here is too strong," Karnak said coolly.

This meant his authority no longer extended to this space. The distorted imagery here was so potent that it resisted his control. It also implied they were approaching the heart of the entity behind this domain.

With cold eyes, Karnak stared beyond the cages into the depths of the hall. "The witch is close."

A chilling voice echoed from beyond the rows of cages. "Ke-he-he-he-he..."

It was the spine-tingling voice of an old crone.

"What lovely little ones you are," she crooned.

***

The witch was grotesque to behold.

Her face, etched with countless wrinkles, made it impossible to guess her age, and her hooked nose jutted out prominently. She wore a wide-brimmed pointed hat and a tattered robe, with a broomstick gripped in one hand.

As Karnak glared at the witch, a thought crossed his mind. Exactly as I saw in the memory projection.

On this continent, the definition of a witch was precise: a female necromancer wielding the powers of darkness and death. Merely being a female mage did not make one a witch. Otherwise, one of the three Archmages, Elezar, would have been called such.

The woman before them was a hunched old crone, clearly a practitioner of advanced necromancy. By all appearances, she fit the textbook image of a witch.

And yet, something feels off.

The witch moved toward Karnak's party. Slowly, Karnak pulled out his staff and pointed it at her, shouting, "Hey, old hag! Are you really a witch?"

The witch scowled. "Tsk, you're all so scrawny."

"Why did you capture these people? To eat them?"

"This old woman likes eating plump, chubby children!"

Her nonsensical response was the very definition of suspicious.

Serati sent a telepathic message.

—This is exactly like when we first met Lapicel.

Everything—her ignoring questions, repeating the same lines over and over—was eerily similar.

—With this many similarities, are we sure someone else hasn't crossed over?

Given the situation, her theory was reasonable and he agreed with her logically.

—That's what it looks like to me too, even though my gut is screaming otherwise.

Karnak hadn't expected a clear answer from the witch. He'd simply been gauging her reaction.

Time for a closer look.

As always, his method for resolving curiosity was the same: violence.

"Varos!"

The blond knight stepped forward eagerly. "Yes, sir!"

The witch launched herself forward, her robe billowing like a ghost as she closed the distance to Varos in an instant. Startled by her unexpected speed, Varos' expression stiffened slightly.

She's really fast!

The witch swung her broomstick down, and Varos raised his aura blade to block it. Stick and blade collided, sending out a powerful shockwave.

Boom!

The impact shattered the candy-coated floor and sent debris flying in every direction. Even the cages hanging above swayed violently under the force of the blow. Yet, Varos didn't yield an inch.

I won't get pushed back that easily.

He absorbed the shock by bending his knees slightly, redirecting the force into the ground. At first glance, it was a deceptively simple move, but one requiring mastery that few aura users could hope to achieve.

The witch, however, didn't budge either. "Ke-he-he, such a disobedient child!"

Her method, however, was entirely different. She didn't redirect the force or employ any technique. She simply endured it head-on. And that left Varos puzzled.

She's holding her ground just fine, but why isn't she budging?

Varos found it odd. The witch didn't appear particularly heavy, nor was she rooted to the ground. Something was off. Before he could ponder further, Serati leapt into action.

—I'll join in!

Drawing her aura blade, she positioned herself behind the witch. As a precaution, she sent Karnak a mental message.

—Don't give me the hell armor! I'll fight on my own strength!

The hell-forged armor she'd worn in the fight against Lapicel had been immensely powerful, but it also corrupted the wearer's soul. She didn't want to rely on it unless she was at death's door. Of course, Karnak had no intention of offering it in the first place.

—Even if you asked, I wouldn't. There are too many eyes on us for that.

Dozens of people were watching the battle from their cages. Their voices might be muted, but their sight wasn't obscured.

—Ah, right.

Varos and Serati closed in, flanking the witch on both sides with their aura swords raised. The witch hurled her broomstick aside and lunged at Serati, her long, clawed hands slashing wildly.

"Ke-he-he-he!"

The attacks were blatant and predictable—something any skilled aura user could dodge with their eyes closed. Of course, Serati wasn't foolish. She kept her eyes wide open and moved with caution, avoiding the claws while aiming for a counterstrike. Her aura blade slashed at the witch's shoulder, but it failed to pierce the fluttering fabric of the witch's robe and bounced off.

Serati clicked her tongue. Of course, that wouldn't work.

She wasn't surprised. She had seen the memory projection of the fight between the witch and the red knights, Leocolt and Lestane. Both of them were red knights like herself, and they hadn't managed to injure the witch either. She needed something more. Serati shifted tactics and darted closer, slipping into the witch's guard.

Let's try this....

Recalling Varos' relentless combat style, which she had observed countless times, she deftly maneuvered her sword.

"Take this!"

The witch's claws narrowly missed her hair as Serati's aura blade struck the shoulder again. This time, with precision and timing.

The robe tore, and thick black smoke poured out from her wound like blood. The witch's forward momentum had been turned against her. Serati hadn't just struck her shoulder. She had essentially forced the witch to impale herself on the blade.

"This works."

Satisfied with the result, Serati smiled briefly. For once, even she felt she'd done well. Watching from the other side, Varos nodded approvingly.

—Not bad at all, Sir Serati. That was solid.

The witch grimaced, her twisted face contorting further in anger. "Disobedient children, aren't you?!"

***

From inside his cage, Alius observed Karnak's group.

I knew they'd find us.

His trust had been rewarded beyond expectations. They'd arrived far sooner than he had dared hope. But something felt strange. The group hadn't brought along an inquisitor to aid them.

How did they find this place?

The divine energy trail he had left was too faint for an aura user or mage to detect. Only two kinds of people could have followed it: a properly trained inquisitor or—

A necromancer...