Chapter 325: Flesh Mountain

Chapter 325: Chapter 325: Flesh Mountain

Everything from here on out should have been smooth sailing—or at least, that’s what Seraphina Sinclair thought as she walked.

The group slowly descended the steps, the lanterns in their hands emitting a gentle glow. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

Along the way, any monster caught in the lantern light seemed petrified, standing motionless and rigid. Only their gazes, filled with a bitter reluctance, followed the four of them as they walked away.

Seraphina Sinclair used Insight on one of the monsters again.

The Emitter of Embers’s entire Description was the same as before, except the grade after its name... had changed from D-level to E-level.

’If they had status effects, they should all be paralyzed right now, shouldn’t they?’

Seraphina Sinclair mused.

’So "weaken" means dropping the monster’s grade by a level, and "deter" is what paralyzes them.’

’The lantern’s Description really is simple and easy to understand.’

She gave the lantern in her hand a little shake, its light swaying from side to side down the corridor.

Their progress through the corridor was smooth, until they once again reached its end.

"Wh-what is that?"

The moment Alaric Hawthorn’s lantern illuminated the end of the hall, his voice caught in his throat.

The end of the corridor wasn’t another flight of descending stairs, nor was it another door.

It was a... breathing wall.

To be more precise, it was a "wall of flesh" formed by countless twisting, squirming "things" packed tightly together, completely blocking the path forward.

The wall was composed of none other than the bodies of the Emitters of Embers.

Miner’s boots, work clothes, and yellow hard hats were all crushed together with human bodies, forming this wall of flesh.

Before, the air had smelled relatively normal, but the instant they got a clear look at the thing, the reek of blood and the stench of rotting flesh washed over them!

The foul stench assaulted their nostrils, and even Seraphina Sinclair couldn’t help but wrinkle her brow.

Lyra Lowell doubled over, retching several times. He fought back the urge to vomit, took the water bottle hanging from his waist, unscrewed the cap, and rinsed his mouth with a sip of water before turning to the others to ask, "What is that thing?"

Fayestar took one glance before turning her back to the "wall," her lips pressed into a thin line, her face pale.

Alaric Hawthorn’s grip on his long spear tightened. He turned to Seraphina Sinclair, his voice tinged with anxiety. "What do we do now? This thing is blocking our way; we can’t get through at all!"

"Shh." Seraphina Sinclair raised a hand, signaling for silence as her gaze locked onto the wall of flesh.

It wasn’t an illusion.

The thing was, in fact... writhing slowly.

It wasn’t moving as a whole. Rather, the countless limbs and torsos within were spasming or twitching minutely, like the restless murmurs of a sleeper lost in a nightmare.

Beneath the hard hats, blurry, melted faces were pressed and distorted against one another. Occasionally, a viscous, dark-red fluid seeped from the cracks, dripping to the floor with a faint SPLAT and leaving behind small, corrosive marks.

"This thing..." Lyra Lowell’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with irrepressible nausea and fear. "Is it alive? Or... is it coming to life?"

"It’s likely an amalgamation that was affected more deeply by the Embers, or was formed earlier," Seraphina Sinclair said, also lowering her voice, her sharp gaze scanning every inch of the flesh wall. "Does the lantern light still have an effect on it?"

At her words, Alaric Hawthorn tentatively pushed his lantern forward.

The dim yellow light spread like a thin veil over the nearest few twisted bodies.

The flesh wall’s writhing seemed to pause for an instant.

On the crushed and deformed faces, the flow of dark-red ooze slowed, but the wall didn’t become completely paralyzed like the Emitters outside.

On the contrary, in the illuminated area, the writhing of the bodies actually became more pronounced.

What’s more... the thing was writhing *into* the wall.

Seraphina Sinclair found it hard to imagine how such a massive entity could cram itself into the wall, but the scene before her eyes was undeniable. In fact...

A narrow gap had already appeared on one side of the corridor.

The gap was hidden where the flesh wall met the corridor wall. It was extremely narrow, just barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through sideways.

Previously obscured by the writhing bodies, it had only just become faintly visible under the lantern light as the flesh wall continued to squirm inward.

"Look there!" Seraphina Sinclair whispered, pointing at the gap.

Alaric Hawthorn immediately focused the beam of his lantern on it.

In the dim yellow light, they could see the corridor behind the mountain of flesh, though the gap was filled with a gory, viscous fluid.

"There’s a path!" Alaric Hawthorn’s spirits lifted, but his brow quickly furrowed again. "But... the gap is too narrow, and this damn thing is writhing right beside it. What if, while we’re squeezing through, it..."

He didn’t finish, but his meaning was obvious.

If the amalgamation was provoked and lashed out while someone was passing through, or if the gap suddenly closed, the person squeezed in the middle would be done for.

Lyra Lowell’s face went pale. "Is there no other way? This is like willingly walking into its mouth..."

He retched again at the thought and whispered, "This thing is just too disgusting."

"Should we wait a bit?" Alaric Hawthorn suggested, staring intently at the gap. The mountain of flesh was writhing into the wall, so the opening would gradually widen. The longer they waited, the safer it would be.

Everyone understood the logic.

But while they could wait, the lanterns in their hands could not.

They had tested it when they first set out; the illuminated area of each lantern could only ensure the safety of a single person.

Even if two people stood as close as possible, pressing against each other, the lantern’s light couldn’t completely envelop both of them.

This was why all of them had their lanterns lit.

If they stood there waiting in front of the wall, their lanterns would likely burn out long before the mountain of flesh had moved.

When that happened, the Emitters of Embers held back by the lanterns would swarm them, and there were still all those Ember’s Victims at the far end of the corridor.

They were caught between a rock and a hard place. To wait meant certain death.

Alaric Hawthorn seemed to realize the problem with his own suggestion. He suddenly raised a hand and lightly slapped his face, his tone becoming resolute. "We can’t just stand here and wait."

"He’s right." Fayestar took a deep breath. She finally turned back around, forcing herself to look at the gap despite her discomfort. She bit her lip. "Maybe... we could test it first?"

As she spoke, however, she looked toward Seraphina Sinclair, her expression questioning.

Seraphina Sinclair stared at the gap, silent for a few seconds.

There truly was no other way. They all knew what awaited them if they turned back. If the lantern oil ran out, staying here would be suicide.

She frowned slightly, pondering their next move.

As she fell silent, Fayestar shot a look at Alaric Hawthorn.

Though neither of them spoke, a silent, mutual understanding passed between them as their gazes fell in unison upon Lyra Lowell.

Lyra Lowell was confused at first, but as the meaning of their stares dawned on him, his face went deathly pale.