Numbers x Casket-Chapter 33: Smell of Blood

Back at the surface, the warrior watched his companions writhe in pain; the black veins had already started spreading all over their bodies.

"Hang in there, guys!" Daniel stated, his face laced with worry.

He wanted to help them ease their suffering, but aside from wiping their sweat, he had no idea how to minimize their pain.

"Where are you, Efraim?" he uttered, praying that the appraiser return as soon as possible.

With his thoughts busy worrying about his comrades, Daniel heard noises from a distance. Its screeching sound caused him to hold his sword and stand up.

Then, he turned his head around bit by bit, hoping that his mind was only playing tricks on him, but the eyes glowing in a crimson hue shattered his line of thought.

Another cluster of spider-scorpion-like creatures emerged from the ground. Daniel gulped as he stared at them. Their long limbs crawling towards his direction.

Blobs of sweat protruded on his forehead as he looked at those giant pincers.

"I-I could probably handle one on my own, but I’m afraid this horde is too much," Daniel uttered, stuttering in fear.

Despite the terror evident in his eyes, he tightened his grip on his sword and raised it in front.

"Come! If this really is my end, I’ll die standing, fighting you ugly insects!" He shouted, taunting the swarm of monsters.

Upon hearing his war cry, the spider-scorpions lunged forward. They raced against their own kind, their mouths drooling for the equators’ flesh.

Armed with determination and the will to fight, Daniel swung his sword with the thought of killing even one. However, his blade crumbled into pieces upon contact with the creature’s pincer.

The warrior froze in his position, his gaze staring at the sword’s fragments falling bit by bit while his mind was still in the process of rejecting his demise.

Memories of his life flashed through his eyes, and he began to accept his fate; however, in that split second before his death, with all hopes broken, he heard a voice coming from behind.

"Duck," it said.

Though a little bit hoarse, it was enough for the warrior to sigh in relief.

. . . . .

A little earlier, Efraim stared at the massacre with his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He gave a glance at the number floating above his head, and upon seeing its value increase by one, his lips curled into a smile.

"It increased again, a little bit slow, but progress is still progress," he stated.

Then he waved his blades to shake off the blood, and in that moment, he noticed a sweet fragrance coming from it. His eyes squinted in confusion, and curiosity got him good.

Thus, he searched for the source of the smell; however, it was coming from all directions, which made him wonder what it was. Aside from the carcasses around him, there was nothing in that darkness.

Afterward, as he continued inhaling deeper, he realized something was amiss: the metallic scent that was supposed to come from the monsters’ blood was missing.

’Is it coming from that?’ Efraim thought.

He smelled his clothes and the bloodstains present on his hands to confirm his suspicion.

"It really is," he uttered, surprised by his discovery.

The appraiser stared at the blood; its smell was so delicious that he wondered what it tasted like. He gulped several times, trying to reject his thoughts, but after a few more seconds, he gave in.

Efraim licked the bloodstains on his hands and was impressed by how good their taste was.

"Did I turn into a vampire?" he pondered and touched his fangs afterward, checking if they grew longer, but they were not.

They remained the same, like of a living human. The appraiser still wandering about his situation, though he knew that it was related to the casket, he still had no idea what changes had occurred to his body.

Unlike before, he saw a glimpse of the monarch when his relic was absorbed, but it was different this time; there was no such thing that happened during the absorption.

Efraim glanced at the pile of corpses; there was something inside his thoughts that wanted him to drink the fresh blood dripping from their flesh. However, he resisted the urge to do so.

He wanted to know first what the casket did to his body, so without anything left to do underneath, he sprinted towards the burrow’s exit.

. . . . .

A thick wave slash of energy passed above Daniel’s head, cutting several monsters with ease. He glanced above him and saw Efraim leaping towards the horde. He watched in awe as he saw his blades dissecting the spider-scorpions’ limbs like they were as soft as paper.

Efraim’s performance was in a full display, which made the warrior stunned. He knew that the appraiser was strong, but he didn’t expect him to be this powerful. The cluster of giant insects posed no threat to him.

"And he’s just a second string with that level of sword mastery—what a beast!" Daniel exclaimed; he couldn’t help but admire the man.

He already saw him in a different light; he considered him a hero, his savior. He kept on watching how he disposed of the enemies in a single swing and imprinted this particular scene deep inside his mind.

This would be a story that he would always be proud to talk about for the rest of his life, a tale about a person who stood and singlehandedly destroyed a monster horde.

. . . . .

The silk-like webs were painted red, while elongated limbs and heads scattered throughout the area. Like what happened underneath the ground, the surface was filled with carnage.

Efraim shot a glance at the stinger coming from his right and blocked it with his blade. Only a few spider-scorpions were left standing, and it was time to end their suffering.

He pushed the monster away from his side and sliced the one standing in front of him. Then, he leaped forward and beheaded another two. Their blood sprouted from their necks like a fountain before their headless bodies fell on the ground.

Then, the appraiser glanced at the insect he pushed away, and a menacing smirk flashed on his lips.

"Finally, the last one," he uttered.

Drenched from the creatures’ blood, his silhouette rivaled that of a demon fresh from hell. Efraim swirled the Serpentine Fang in his hand and threw it in the monster’s direction.

With the Ironclad Brawler’s strength present on his right arm, the blade flew at such unimaginable speed that the spider-scorpion hybrid failed to react. The sword pierced its forehead, giving it a quick, painless death.

Efraim walked towards its corpse to retrieve his weapon, and while at it, the urge to drink the monster’s blood came knocking on his mind once again.

’Not now,’ he thought and picked up his blade.

Afterward, he looked at the equator’s direction, and upon seeing Daniel still fine and breathing, a smile flashed across his lips.

However, in the next moment, he was startled upon hearing Michael and Nathan screaming in pain. He sprinted towards them, and his eyebrows furrowed the moment he saw their current state. Their mouths were foaming with bubbles, and their complexions were paler than before, while all of their veins had turned black in color.

Daniel glanced at him; tears were about to fall from his eyes.

"P-Please do something," he pleaded, hoping that the appraiser could save his friends.

Meanwhile, Efraim stared at them; he believed that they were poisoned and the unknown substance came from the monarch’s relic, the drake that the casket absorbed.

Therefore, it was a given that he had the remedy for their situation, and he was right about it.

As soon as he came closer, the intoxicating fragrance became stronger, and the source of this was the poison inside the two equators’ bodies.

’So, it’s not the blood that I want to drink but the poison mixed in it,’ Efraim concluded while sitting beside the mage.

’But the question is how? How to cure them? Should I need to suck their blood or what?’ he pondered.

Though he knew the problem, the solution remained a mystery; he had no idea how to get the poison out of their bodies.

Given this fact, he placed his hands on both of their chests, hoping for some kind of reaction, but seconds passed and there wasn’t any.

Left with no other choice, Efraim chose to gamble; he unsheathed the Seventeenth Shard and slit his wrist.

"W-What are you doing?" Daniel asked, gasping upon seeing the appraiser’s action.

Efraim chose not to reply; instead, he put his hand above Nathan’s face and let his blood drip into his mouth.

After a few drops, he retracted his arm and did the same to Michael. He watched their struggles, the way they writhed in pain, hoping for a miracle to take effect.

However, a minute later, the two of them coughed up a mouthful of darkened blood, enough to give horror to the equators’ minds.

. . . . .