With a stifled exclamation, Miss Valente was already pressed to the ground by Lynch. As they rolled, both of them saw the spot where the muffled thud had originated from behind them. There was nothing there, just the same pitch-black darkness as the rest of the surroundings.
But the muffled thud and the impact were not illusions.
Lynch did not dwell on the awkwardness of holding the noblewoman in his arms. They exchanged a look of shock, each stepped back two paces, and quickly vacated their original position, moving swiftly while trying to observe carefully.
The darkness was thick. The beam of the Torch of Light barely pierced the gloom to illuminate the ground. They had not been mistaken; the floor was indeed empty. As they raised the beam upward, they saw the second-floor ceiling from which they had just dropped. Just like the lower level, the light struggling through the darkness revealed no foreign objects.
Damn it, what kind of monster is hiding in this darkness?
Fear often stems from the unknown. The less they could see, the more tense they became.
There was definitely something there, and it had acted with hostility, yet nothing could be seen in the shadows. They had to flush it out, otherwise, they would never know if it would attack again, and they might not be so lucky next time.
"Cover me, Mr. Levive."
Miss Valente, standing opposite him, swayed her light source. Seeing Lynch shake his 'flashlight' in response, she moved her feet cautiously, approaching the dark location.
That made sense; a different way of perceiving might work. Lynch nodded. He had intended to draw his revolver to cover her, but after a moment's thought, he gripped his cane instead and moved forward, staying close to Miss Valente, ready to strike at any moment.
But strike what? There really was nothing there.
As Miss Valente approached step by step, Lynch swept his light beam back and forth in front of her. Nothing changed. The beam barely penetrated the darkness, shining onto...
Hm?
Why did it barely penetrate the darkness? Why was there always a sense of haziness behind the gloom?
No, it wasn't that there was nothing there; it was that the darkness itself existed as an entity.
Upon realizing this, Lynch felt a wave of instinctive terror. He knew from experience that this was the physiological reaction to first understanding a mystery-type anomaly, but he still felt a chill in his heart, as if thorns were pricking his back.
"Watch the ground!"
Suppressing his instinct, Lynch only had time for a low roar. He swung his cane, smashing it heavily into the thick darkness.
A muffled thud followed. The sensation was like striking a rubber tire, and a powerful counter-shock far exceeding his own arm strength surged up the cane. Because he held the cane with a death grip, his entire body was shaken off the ground by the force, sliding backward several steps until he crashed hard against a stone pillar.
Miss Valente froze at the sound. Though she did not understand what she was supposed to be careful of, she had already stopped in her tracks. She witnessed the entire process of his flight, and although her brain had not yet processed it, her body had already reacted.
A burst of flame ignited at the tip of her folding fan. With a roar, a large spread of buckshot erupted from the muzzle, plunging into the darkness before her. The darkness hesitated as if it had a physical form, before continuing to envelop her.
The light shield reappeared. An eggshell-like barrier popped out from her body, shimmering as it collided with the darkness in front.
A wave of pressure impacted the air, enough for even the distant Lynch to notice. Miss Valente stumbled back a few steps under the force, and only by Lynch reaching out to steady her did she barely manage to avoid falling.
"Oh, by Fiona, it is a Son of the Formless."
Lynch's wrist trembled. He had heard the name when his professor mentioned anecdotes during archaeology class. It was said to occasionally appear in ancient ruins and was a very troublesome, weird creature. Without time to think, Miss Valente pulled his arm, and they retreated another two steps. At this moment, Lynch finally saw the enemy's appearance.
It was a translucent black mass, like a slime, a huge blob slowly writhing. Its volume was enough to envelop several people, and when it stood up, it was taller than a human. This thing was pitch black and impossible to distinguish while hiding in the shadows, especially since it seemed to have pounced from above just moments ago, making it even harder to detect.
Wait, from above?
A chill ran through both of them simultaneously. They exchanged a look and quickly shifted positions again, simultaneously raising their light beams upward. Sure enough, within the visible range above, another one was perched right above where they had been standing, on the verge of pouncing down.
"We cannot fight them head-on, Mr. Levive. They have immense strength. Once swallowed, you will be crushed just like those mummified corpses. And take note, they are immune to physical attacks."
Miss Valente looked up to confirm there were no enemies overhead, stopped, and opened her folding fan. She popped out the shell casings and took out two red bullets, intending to load them:
"You must use attacks with supplementary effects, such as fire."
"Stop, it is best not to use fire." Seeing the noblewoman's movements, Lynch grabbed her hand. "Starting a fire will only make us live shorter lives here; we will run out of air."
"Then we will use acid."
Miss Valente did not seem troubled at all. Like a magic trick, she swapped them for two shotgun shells with green casings and loaded them into the fan. With her left hand, she pulled the front section of the fan, and it emitted a clicking sound like a chambering bolt, her movements as proficient as those of a veteran soldier in a movie.
"Take these two. It is a pity I did not bring acid shells for your pistol. I will help you bring some next time."
Lynch was slightly stunned, subconsciously accepting the two brown glass bottles the noblewoman handed him. The bottles were sealed tightly, containing more than half a bottle of liquid each. What was this?
"Strong acid. Just throw them directly. I saw I had some extra space earlier and packed a dozen, though I did not expect to actually use them."
Hiss. Young lady, why do you have everything? Are you planning to throw various items to kill all the monsters along the way? And you brought a dozen of them? Forget it, you have 'money power,' you are amazing.
"Then save your ammunition; I will handle it."
Lynch tucked one bottle away with some hesitation. After unscrewing the other, he rushed toward the writhing Son of the Formless.
This thing was not fast; it relied on its massive size. Its relative speed exceeded that of an ordinary human, but in small-scale dodging and maneuvering, it was far inferior to Lynch, who had been blessed by the cat. Lynch rushed forward, suddenly turning sharply while the slime-like darkness enveloped him head-on, and hurled the open bottle hard against the monster's body.
The bottle vanished into the darkness without a sound, as if swallowed by a swamp.
Hm?
Lynch hesitated for a split second, his footsteps subconsciously halting. Then, Miss Valente's anxious warning rang out from behind him.
"Above!"
Crap, I was careless.
Lynch's heart sank. He felt a gust of wind descending from the sky, aimed straight at his head. He used almost every ounce of his strength, trying to step back to avoid the overhead attack, but the sound of the wind had already reached his scalp; there was no time to dodge.
Lynch gritted his teeth. At the last moment, he gripped the acid bottle he had stowed away. Feeding it a bottle of acid while being swallowed was his final way to seek survival from death. However, at that moment, a beam of light suddenly appeared out of thin air between him and Miss Valente, and then a tremendous force came from the beam, dragging him away instantly.
【Authority, Protection, ability, Grasp of Protection.】
Bang! Another Son of the Formless slammed down, brushing past Lynch's head, kicking up a gust of wind on the ground. Lynch had already been pulled back by the light beam, staggering to land beside a pale-faced Miss Valente, and sat down with a thud.
Miss Valente had just reached out to pull him up when she saw his expression change again. He jumped up and pulled Miss Valente back, and at the same time, a third Son of the Formless pounced on the spot above Miss Valente, missing its mark.
That was dangerous. The two exchanged a lingering look of fear, both seeing the unease in the other's heart.
Inside the Son of the Formless that had swallowed the acid bottle, a series of glass-shattering sounds suddenly erupted. Then, large amounts of acidic smoke spewed from its body. Like a leech sprinkled with salt, it dissolved rapidly, eventually turning into a puddle of darkness stuck to the ground. The two newly appeared ones were completely unaffected by their peer's death and continued to writhe persistently toward the pair.
Just how many are there? Having more and more of them will not do.
"We are here to destroy the avatar of the evil god, not to clean up the city. We cannot get bogged down in a fight; we must find the target as quickly as possible."
"Alright, the evil god's avatar should be hiding in their temple of the dead, but I do not know what that looks like or where it is."
"I know. I have been to the one in Maya's dream; it should be the same as this one. The temple has a green light."
Lynch pulled Miss Valente's hand. One checking the ceiling and the other checking the front, they bypassed the two Sons of the Formless and sprinted out of the area surrounded by stone pillars, charging into the ancient city.
It was indeed the same as the city in the dream, only there were no ghouls wandering the streets.
At the edge of their vision, in the distance, a beam of green light emitted an eerie glow.
Sure enough. Joy appeared on both their faces. The target being so obvious was clearly the best possible news.
However, a hint of unease lingered in Lynch's heart. Could it be a little too obvious?
Just as the unease rose, a rustling sound came from the surrounding darkness. It was the sound of the Sons of the Formless writhing against the ground.
They were in multiple directions. Heaven knows how many were hidden in the dark.
The pursuers had arrived, and with the target so clear, there was no room for further hesitation.
The two nodded to each other, one holding acid and the other holding a shotgun, and turned toward the direction of the light beam.
Rate on N.U.
