Chapter 143: The Rotting Kill II

Chapter 144: The Rotting Kill II

Beasts were stabbed through their heads and hearts. They fell in piles of cut-off limbs and black blood. Within three minutes, the area outside the wall was filled with dead bodies.

The valley went quiet.

The soldiers leaned on their shields, breathing hard. Their armor was covered in cold sweat and mud.

"We... we held," a young soldier whispered. He let out a shaky laugh. "We actually killed them all..."

Vaelric did not celebrate.

He did not lower his hand.

His silver eyes were locked on the pile of dead bodies against the wall.

Something was very wrong.

In the last month of war, every soldier had learned one thing: monsters killed by the palace usually rotted away in seconds. Their skin would turn into black slime almost instantly.

But these bodies stayed whole. They didn’t rot. Their blood didn’t dry; it was bubbling.

Vaelric’s voice was sharp and cold. "Nobody move! DO NOT TOUCH THE DEAD!"

The soldiers froze.

Then—from the throat of a dead wolf near the front shield—a sound came out.

HSSSSSSSS...

A thin line of oily black smoke crawled out from between the beast’s teeth.

A soldier nearby frowned. He leaned forward a little. "What is that...?"

Before anyone could shout, the black smoke shot through the air like a snake.

WHOOSH!

The smoke went through the golden-white wall like it wasn’t even there. It flew straight into the soldier’s nose and mouth.

The soldier’s eyes went wide.

"AGH—!"

Thick black veins popped out on his neck and face. They pulsed with evil energy. He dropped his spear.

CLANG!

"Brother!" Two soldiers ran forward to catch him.

Vaelric’s voice boomed like thunder. "STAY BACK! DO NOT TOUCH HIM!"

The infected soldier fell to his knees. His body shook and jerked. His breath was a rattling wheeze, and black fluid leaked from his eyes.

"I..."

He held up his shaking, black hands. He looked at them in terror.

"I killed it..." he cried. "The moment it died... it gave this to me..."

Estelle’s face turned white.

Lemo’s lightning flared around his chest. "Fall back! NOW!"

It was already too late.

HSSSS! HSSSS! HSSSS!

From every dead beast outside the wall, thick black smoke began to pour out of their mouths and eyes.

Dozens of black smoke-snakes shot through the air. They flew straight toward the specific soldiers who had killed them.

"AHHHH!"

"GET IT OFF ME!"

"MY ENERGY! IT’S BURNING MY SOUL!"

Screams of pain filled the ranks. Eight more soldiers were hit. Their skin turned black. Their eyes rolled back as the palace’s evil began to eat their minds.

The soldiers began to run back in panic.

Vaelric ground his teeth. "Hold still!"

He used his power to the limit. He sent his white energy into the soldiers’ minds, forcing them to stop screaming and stay in place.

He stared at the black smoke snakes with cold eyes.

The beasts.

Their crazy, suicidal attacks.

The fact that they didn’t rot.

It was a trap.

"The killing..." Vaelric whispered. He clenched his fists so hard his metal gloves bent. "Killing them is how it spreads."

Lemo looked at him, his face hard.

"The monsters were never meant to break the wall."

Estelle swallowed hard. Her hands were shaking. "They weren’t an army. They were just containers for the poison."

Roan Blackwood’s eyes burned with anger. "The palace filled them with this poison... knowing we would kill them. It needed our bodies to be open and active so the poison could move into us."

Another line of black smoke coiled out from a dead hound. It jumped toward a young soldier.

The boy stumbled back, screaming in fear.

WHOOM!

Vaelric blurred across the mud. He stepped between the boy and the smoke. White fire erupted from the general’s hand, burning the smoke to ash inches from the boy’s face.

The heat knocked the young soldier onto his back.

He looked up at the tall general. He was shaking and crying in pure terror.

"General..." the boy wept. "Please... look at my squad. Look at what happened to them..."

He looked at his eight friends shaking in the mud. Their skin was turning gray. Their teeth were clicking together like scissors.

"If the dark takes my mind..." the boy begged. "Kill me. Do not let me eat my friends. Promise me you will kill me!"

The two hundred survivors went dead silent.

Vaelric looked down at the crying soldier.

His silver eyes were cold and fierce.

"No," Vaelric said softly.

The soldier stared at him, stunned.

Vaelric turned his back. He faced the pile of dead monsters outside their wall. His voice rang out across the valley:

"We do not kill our own people. Not while I am alive."

He raised his iron hand toward the dark palace gates.

"And we will not kill one more beast until we understand this curse."

The soldiers slowly lowered their spears.

No one moved forward. No one crossed the line.

A heavy, scary silence fell over the area.

Outside their golden dome was a carpet of hundreds of dead monsters. Every single body was slowly leaking black poison into the air, waiting for someone to swing a sword.

Vaelric looked up at the floating sword in the sky, then at the other three leaders.

"From this moment on..." Vaelric said in a low, firm whisper. "No one kills."

The soldiers watched in silence.

"We defend."

Above them, Roan’s sword continued to hum. Lemo’s lightning crackled. Estelle’s wind circled the group.

For the first time since the palace appeared, the Four Great Families were not fighting an enemy they could crush.

They were fighting the result of their own victory.

And in the silence, the dead bodies continued to bleed poison into the world.

Across three kilometers of churned mud and fractured bedrock, hundreds of subterranean beast carcasses lay motionless. From their open maws, punctured carapaces, and severed limbs, thin ribbons of greasy, foul black vapor continued to rise into the cold air.

HSSSSSSS...

The sound was like grease spitting in an iron skillet.

Behind General Vaelric’s protective barrier, less than two hundred soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their boots frozen in the blackened mire. Not a single man moved. Not a single man dared draw a breath without filtering it through clenched teeth. They watched the carcasses outside with wide, bloodshot eyes, their knuckles white against the shafts of their spears.

Then—

THUD.

A young infantryman in the second rank collapsed onto his knees.​