Dog staggered unsteadily for a few steps before finally coming to a stop. Waves of pitch-black smoke rose from the gaps in his bones, and his entire body seed to tremble spasmodically while those blood-red eye sockets flickered intermittently.
Seeing such an obvious and abnormal reaction, Shirley was naturally startled. She imdiately stopped and anxiously called out Dog’s na while shaking his massive head. After calling out nurous tis, Dog finally regained his senses and spoke up with a hoarse, low voice, “Why do I suddenly feel… unable to move?”
“Are you okay?” Duncan approached at that mont, frowning at the clearly unwell dark hound, concern evident in his voice, “Is sothing wrong with you?”
“I… don’t feel unwell,” Dog’s head wobbled as if it might fall asleep any mont, “I just feel weak, and… I really don’t want to get close to that pile of stuff.”
“Really don’t want to get close?” Duncan turned to look at the strange, slow-moving pile that resembled mud under the firelight.
Could this odd “mud” be affecting Dog? Was it so kind of instinctive suppression?
Dog’s unusual reaction captured everyone’s attention and set Duncan’s mind racing. His first thought was whether Dog’s exceptional perception, which far exceeded that of humans, had detected sothing invisible.
However, Dog’s reaction indicated that it hadn’t “seen” anything out of the ordinary.
“Dark hounds are among the more powerful shadow demons, and they rarely beco like this just because they face a more powerful individual’s pressure,” Vanna crouched down and stroked the bone fragnts on Dog’s body without any hesitation. She then turned back and said, “Besides, that thing doesn’t emit any intimidating aura…”
“You can remove the ‘more’ part,” Shirley mumbled beside her, “Dog is truly powerful…”
“Not powerful, I’m not powerful at all,” Dog quickly shook its head, “This place is a bit too creepy. Should we co back next ti?”
“Coming back next ti is impossible, as this ghost ship might not stay here obediently waiting for us to explore it repeatedly,” Duncan shook his head, “But your current condition is indeed not suitable for continuing.”
Dog was being affected by so inexplicable force, and allowing it to get closer to that pile of stuff might lead to unforeseen consequences. The best course of action now was to have Dog and Shirley temporarily return to the Vanished.
Duncan gestured to the side, and Ai imdiately flew over, circling in the air while shouting, “Who’s calling the ship… This is a trap! Abandon ship and escape!”
“You take Shirley and Dog back to the Vanished first,” Duncan ignored the bird’s outcry, pointed to Dog lying on the ground and Shirley with a concerned expression beside him, then thought for a mont and pointed to Nina, “Take Nina back, too.”
“Huh?” Nina didn’t react right away, “Why do I have to go back too? I’m in great shape now!”
“Earlier, that thing attempted to replicate you. Although you ‘hit’ it and interrupted the process, we don’t know if those larger entities at the end will have any other reactions when you get closer,” Duncan explained succinctly, “it’s better to be cautious in such a situation.”
After listening carefully, Nina nodded obediently: “Ah, alright, I’ll go back.”
Duncan had prepared so persuasive words, expecting that Nina, being a curious girl, would be eager for such adventures. However, he was surprised that she agreed so readily, and soon he just shook his head with a smile.
She was still so sensible.
The undead bird’s flas whisked Shirley, Dog, and Nina out of the Obsidian.
But the space didn’t descend into darkness with Ai’s departure – the bonfires Duncan lit using the dry and stagnant mud as fuel still illuminated the gloomy and eerie place.
The strange substance coiled at the end of the cabin continued to wriggle quietly as if half-asleep or dormant in its dreams.
But when Duncan’s gaze fell on the pile of material again, a distinct “thump” sound emanated from within.
“The kids have left,” Duncan breathed a sigh of relief and took a step towards the dark matter, “Now it’s ti for the adults to deal with this problem.”
His steps were unhesitant, and as he approached, the previously seemingly asleep wriggling matter imdiately responded – the wriggling at its edges beca more pronounced, its surface expansion and contraction more frequent, and the pulsating sounds from within grew faster and louder.
It had completely turned into a clear rhythmic heartbeat when he was within the last ten ters.
Thump, thump, thump – the distinct and powerful heartbeat resounded clearly in the spacious and dim cabin!
But besides the continuous heartbeat and the increasingly intense surface wriggling, the pile of material showed no other reactions.
Until Duncan stood before it, it rely maintained this “vibrant” state.
“By the goddess… what on earth is this blasphemous thing…”
Vanna frowned deeply, unable to conceal her disgust.
Only after getting close enough did she see the material more clearly. It had no outline of a biological entity; its surface flowed like mud, yet from ti to ti, suspicious indentations erged in the mud, appearing like half-lted organs, suddenly swollen blood vessels or nerve bundles. While constantly emitting a heartbeat, it also displayed characteristics as if reacting to external stimuli – these characteristics eventually returned to aimless, blind wriggling.
From the day she beca an inquisitor, Vanna had seen countless heretical evils, but the blasphemy and strangeness of the thing before her still shocked her.
Even Alice next to her seed dazed. The doll-like girl stared at the material for a long ti before saying, “It doesn’t look like it can be cooked…”
Vanna imdiately stared at Alice with wide eyes – she was shocked once again.
On the other hand, Morris displayed the ticulousness and curiosity that a scholar should have. He seed to ignore the psychological discomfort and aversion, and after getting close to the material, he studied it carefully for a while. Then, he suddenly noticed sothing during its expansion and contraction process: “It seems there’s sothing wrapped inside!”
“Just now?” Duncan hesitated for a mont before noticing the clue Morris had discovered: at the edge of the pile of mud, there seed to be a small piece of sothing resembling a fragnt of clothing.
Was this constantly wriggling mud just a layer of covering?
Upon realizing this, Duncan imdiately extended his hand and pointed at the wriggling object.
Nurous bonfires burning around the cabin instantly emitted lines of fire, and the ghost flas converged almost in the blink of an eye on the pile of “living mud.”
The fire was brilliant yet precisely controlled. Duncan commanded the fire to burn away only the black sludge, careful not to harm the other materials inside. Under his deliberate catalysis and control, the revolting wriggling object was reduced to ashes in just a few seconds.
What was previously hidden deep within the pile of material finally revealed itself to everyone.
“This is…” Morris gazed at the scene before him with so astonishnt.
A human, a middle-aged man, leaned against a pile of wreckage lying in the ashes left by the ghost flas. He had wide, angry eyes as if he had been fighting a fierce enemy to the dying monts before his end, yet one hand tightly covered his mouth as if suppressing great terror.
His body was in a horrifying state, with a large part of the body dissolved by sothing and turned into a chilling, decomposed structure. Now, only a heart, exposed in the open chest cavity, continued to beat slowly and powerfully.
Thump… thump… thump…
The heartbeat echoed throughout the cabin as if containing a strong will.
It turned out that the heartbeat Duncan had heard as he approached ca from this heart.
But this human had clearly been dead for a long ti, and his heartbeat did not signify any signs of life.
“A human?” Vanna imdiately furrowed her brow and looked cautiously at the middle-aged man who had died in the depths of the Obsidian, “Is this also a copy created by the Obsidian?”
“The body structure is distorted and mutated, which is consistent with the characteristics of a copy, but sothing seems off…” Morris murmured, carefully prodding the remaining limb structure of the corpse with the wand he carried. He examined the fragnts of torn clothes, trying to determine their original appearance, “These clothes… look like a uniform.”
“It is indeed a uniform,” Duncan suddenly said, seemingly having discovered sothing. At this mont, he bent down, ignored the horrifying wreckage, and searched near the beating heart, retrieving sothing from a piece of broken cloth.
It was a small chest badge with an identity and na written on it.
“He is the captain of the Obsidian, Cristo Babelli,” Duncan said softly, glancing at the chest badge.
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