Chapter 328: Bringing Up the Rear

Chapter 328: Chapter 328: Bringing Up the Rear

"Holy shit... Alaric Hawthorn, are you really trying to get me killed?"

"If I die... I’ll come back to haunt you!"

Seraphina Sinclair had to give him credit. Because Fayestar had saved his life, he didn’t curse her once, even as she and Alaric hauled him before the mountain of flesh.

But Alaric Hawthorn, the target of all the curses, clearly had no time to dwell on that. He bent down and growled in Lyra Lowell’s ear, "Hold your breath, close your eyes, and just imagine you’re already through!"

He used a commanding tone, and in his panic, Lyra Lowell almost instinctively obeyed.

Fayestar gave him a hard shove too. "Quick! Don’t hesitate!"

Just as Lyra Lowell’s body was being forcefully shoved into the narrow crevice.

"Wait a minute."

Seraphina Sinclair’s voice suddenly cut in.

Alaric Hawthorn and Fayestar both froze, looking at her in confusion.

Seraphina Sinclair wasn’t looking at them. Her gaze had fallen on the potted Sunflower that Lyra Lowell had placed on the ground earlier. It was now sitting quietly in a corner.

"Take his Sunflower with him," Seraphina Sinclair said calmly.

"What?" Alaric Hawthorn thought he’d misheard. "You’re worried about that stupid flower at a time like this?"

"Take it," Seraphina Sinclair repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Tie it to his back with a rope, or have him hold it. Don’t forget where the lamp oil came from."

Alaric Hawthorn froze, instantly understanding Seraphina Sinclair’s intention.

’This Sunflower... it’s probably more than just an oil extractor.’

"Hurry up!" Alaric Hawthorn no longer hesitated, signaling for Fayestar to grab the Sunflower.

Fayestar moved quickly. She picked up the Sunflower and, using a leftover piece of rope, hastily tied it to Lyra Lowell’s chest.

The Sunflower’s leaves brushed against Lyra Lowell’s chin, bringing with them the fresh scent unique to plants. In this foul, bloody environment, it strangely cleared his chaotic mind, if only a little.

"Go!"

There was no more time.

Alaric Hawthorn and Fayestar pushed with all their might, ramming Lyra Lowell—with the Sunflower strapped to his chest and his hands bound—into the fleshy crevice!

"NGH—!"

Lyra Lowell felt himself instantly enveloped by cold, slimy, and elastic walls of flesh.

The pressure came from all sides, threatening to crush his bones.

A foul, stinking liquid smeared across his face, trying to force its way into his mouth and nose.

He desperately held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut. His mind went blank, leaving only the instinctive squirming to break free and move forward.

One second, two seconds... Time seemed to stretch infinitely.

He could feel the flesh walls faintly contracting and squirming as he passed, but there was none of the strangulation or consumption he had expected.

They simply existed, enveloping him in cold silence.

Just as the air in his lungs was about to run out and he could no longer resist opening his mouth to gasp in the foul liquid...

The space ahead suddenly opened up!

The pressure vanished in an instant. His whole body pitched forward, and he fell onto a hard, cold floor.

Fresh air—still murky, but far cleaner than before—flooded his lungs, sending him into a fit of violent coughing. Tears and snot mixed with the slime on his face and streamed down.

’I... I made it through?’

Lyra Lowell lay collapsed on the ground, overwhelmed by the exhaustion of having survived. He couldn’t even move a finger, only gasp for breath and feel the solid ground beneath him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crevice, Alaric Hawthorn and Fayestar stared intently at the opening. They didn’t relax until Lyra Lowell’s body had completely vanished into the shadows on the other side and, a few seconds later, they heard his suppressed coughs. Only then did they both breathe a sigh of relief.

"It worked," Alaric Hawthorn said in a low voice, turning to Seraphina Sinclair. "He’s through."

Seraphina Sinclair nodded, her expression still unreadable.

After Lyra Lowell passed through, the meat wall didn’t seem to have changed significantly; it continued its slow, inward pulsation.

But Seraphina Sinclair noticed that the bulges that had previously formed in response to the flashlight and lantern beams seemed to have subsided somewhat.

"Pass his lantern over. Then... you’re next." Seraphina Sinclair looked at Alaric Hawthorn. "It’s your turn."

Alaric Hawthorn bent down and picked up Lyra Lowell’s lantern, which had been left carelessly on the floor. The metal hook made a faint scraping sound in the silence.

He glanced at Seraphina Sinclair, who gave a slight nod.

Taking a deep breath, Alaric Hawthorn took two steps forward to the edge of the crevice.

First, he hooked the lantern onto the tip of his long spear. Then, he carefully extended the spear shaft, along with the lantern, slowly into the slime-dripping crevice.

His movements were slow and steady.

The lantern was off, and the meat wall had no particular reaction.

A few seconds later, the spear shaft stopped abruptly, as if it had hit the opposite wall or the floor.

With a flick of his wrist, Alaric Hawthorn easily dislodged the hook and quickly pulled the spear back.

The coughing on the other side paused, followed by Lyra Lowell’s muffled, choked response: "...Got... the lantern..."

Alaric Hawthorn’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction.

He turned, planting his spear on the ground, and looked at Seraphina Sinclair and Fayestar. "I’m going through."

He gave the crevice one last look, then without further hesitation, squeezed in sideways.

His movements were far more agile and composed than Lyra Lowell’s.

Though he was also enveloped by the cold, slimy sensation and foul stench, his breathing was well-controlled, and he passed through quickly, minimizing friction.

He held the long spear horizontally across his chest, partly for support and partly... as a defensive posture, though its effectiveness in this environment was questionable.

The entire process took no more than four or five seconds.

A soft thud came from the other side, followed by Alaric Hawthorn’s deliberately lowered voice: "I’m through."

Before his voice had even faded, there was another distinct THUD, followed by Lyra Lowell’s pained cry and suppressed curse: "Ow! Alaric Hawthorn, you... why the hell did you kick me?!"

"...You were in my way. Move," came Alaric Hawthorn’s cold, hard voice, tinged with impatience.

Back on their side, Seraphina Sinclair and Fayestar exchanged a glance, each seeing a subtle emotion in the other’s eyes.

The fact that those two still had the energy to argue meant that it was temporarily safe on the other side, and that Lyra Lowell had recovered a bit.

"So... Boss, should I go first?" Fayestar asked tentatively, though her eyes couldn’t help but dart back to the blood-dripping crevice as she swallowed hard.

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t scared at all. But rather than go last and face this nauseating meat wall and the monster behind her alone, it was better to muster her courage now.

Seraphina Sinclair nodded. She had intended to go last anyway.

"Once you’re through, tell Alaric Hawthorn to watch for any movement up ahead. I won’t be long."

Her tone was still calm, as if she were just arranging a simple task, not at all like someone volunteering to bring up the rear.

"Okay!"

Fayestar nodded forcefully, as if to psych herself up.

She hugged Mimi, the cat in her arms, a little tighter, turned off her lantern, and took a deep breath before walking toward the crevice.

Without incident, Fayestar also made it through successfully. On this side of the meat wall, only Seraphina Sinclair remained.