Blood tax

Chapter 582: Loser Eats Dust (I)

Griffith vaguely felt himself being dragged on the gravel. The space around him seemed to be collapsing, and powerful auras were trying to invade here one after another, accelerating the speed of the collapse.

Suddenly, it was as if time and space were reversed, reality and illusion shifted, and things changed unexpectedly. The fighting teammates and elves disappeared, and even the huge underground gravel space disappeared.

Instead, there was a familiar old castle, deep corridors and cold terraces. Thick fog surrounded it like a wall not far away, and it was so quiet that there was no movement at all.

Am I entering a deeper and mysterious place? Is this the second realm? Griffith quickly pulled himself together and checked his equipment.

Teammates are missing.

The two swords, blood thorns, and judgment were all there, as well as the helmet, breastplate, short weapon, and magic potion. However, Minos was destroyed, and the magic ring that had always helped him was shattered by Galadilla's sword! The power of frost, blood, and evil runes was completely lost.

"It's not impossible that Warehouse 13 has a second, deeper level. It's not surprising that it's a bit weird for a demigod's secret vault," Griffith began to explore cautiously. "If I want to get out, I may have to crack the secret, or..."

He carefully checked the walls and roads and walked forward along the corridor. If he could find the psychic node of the domain, he could try to destroy it with the power of the conqueror.

The further he walked, the more familiar the surroundings became. After a while, Griffith found himself in the halls of the Homeworth Hospital and Gardens.

At this time, he heard some sounds coming from a room in front.

"Facing the truth caused severe brain and mental damage. Brain treatment saved his life for now, but when he woke up he had lost some basic...

"He has changed. He can still hear, smell, and touch the world normally. However, he also sees some things that were originally indescribable..."

The voice sounded familiar, it was Tyberion, he was here?
Griffith poked his head out from the corner and looked around. He saw a row of beds covered with clean white sheets, soft light from the lamps falling on the floor, and a reassuring smell of medicine in the air.

Tyberion and a few others were leaving in another direction, leaving only their backs. Griffith immediately chased after them, but they disappeared around the corner. The window was covered with thick fog, and the door on the wall was locked tightly. Griffith kicked the wooden door and chased outside, only to see the towering fog wall like a mountain and the empty castle. There was only the whistling sound of the wind in his ears.

He could only turn back and saw a boy of about seventeen or eighteen years old lying on the hospital bed.

The boy had a thin and handsome face, with neatly combed short black hair and beautiful but listless eyes.

"Hey, Hughes, you're here?" The thin boy smiled at Griffith. "It's my fault for involving you in these troubles. Please forgive me."

Hughes? ... Griffith had some impression of this name, he had heard it somewhere. He glanced at the tag on the bed, which had the boy's name on it -

"Salorian"

Dictator? When did he come?

Wait, this is the Salorian who studied at Homerworth when he was young? The author of Notes on Potions!
Oh, Hughes, I remember now. This is the record in the "Notebook" I got when I was trapped in the ruins in the mountain during the goblin attack on Nethergarde. A student named Hughes was killed by some monster... Griffith subconsciously pulled out Judgment and took half a step back.

"I'm wrong," Salorian continued, "but don't you find it strange?"

"What's weird?"

"That mountain! Anok's mountain!" Salorian pulled out a painting from under his pillow. "It is surrounded by endless snow-capped mountains, but there is no snow. Considering its height, it is too abnormal!"

As he spoke, he held up the painting for Griffith to see.

The simple outline of the charcoal on the white paper immediately reminded Griffith of the dark and eerie towering mountain he had seen in the ruins of the city-state of Annoch. Some indescribable dark clouds seemed like living evil, surrounding the jagged and sharp peaks and rocks like an evil curse; the barren peaks seemed like towers leading to the endless night, calling on the daring people to step into the danger.

Just by looking at this sketch, the gale in my memory became real and immediate. The whistling sound became more ferocious, and the dead and withered air seemed to come alive.

The outline of this mountain is so bizarre and exaggerated, so incredible...

"That's not a mountain, my friend..." said Salorian, "I think it's this adventure that has caused us problems."

Griffith felt a severe headache, cold sweat rolled down his neck and through the gaps in his armor, and a chill spread along his spine.

Griffith felt himself weakening, nauseated and filled with inexplicable fear.

Oh no, is it a psychic attack? Griffith immediately mobilized the power of the extraordinary, trying to break the ominous secret that was entangled with him. However, he failed! The power of the conqueror was suppressed to the level of a war knight by unspeakable factors.

He pulled himself together and looked towards Salorian.

There was no trace of blood on the pale boy's face, and the deep dark circles under his eyes showed that he was suffering from insomnia and anxiety. His lifeless eyes even turned the desperate irritability and fatigue that longed for early relief into reality and spread it.

Griffith had seen all kinds of monsters and dangers in the world, and mutation and chaos were commonplace. However, he had never faced such eyes that made him lose his mind and hope for life.

What was even more shocking was that a hint of smile seemed to pass across this face as pale and plain as an ancient well; a hint of satisfaction flashed across the weak and dim eye sockets.

Griffith drew his Conviction and shot Salorian.

"Bah!"

The gunshot was heard, and the fire and smoke quickly dissipated. The adamantium bullet pierced through Salorian's shoulder socket.

However, the young Salorian just lowered his head to look at the wound, showing neither pain nor anger, and no expression at all.

"My hearing, smell, touch, and taste have all changed. Now everything I see becomes disgusting," Salorian said as if he were in a shadow play. Whether the audience cheered or smashed the show, it had no effect on him. "I saw my teachers and friends again, but I found that their shapes were so grotesque that I couldn't describe them. I remember them, but the human voice has become sharp and piercing, which is unbearable.

"I can't suppress my disgust for the world. Ah, I can't stand it... You are the same..."

"..."

"Living in this horrible world, I am going crazy and have tried to end my life many times. The professor had to give me drugs to control me here to prevent my mental state from collapsing."

Suddenly, Salorian let out a long sigh: "Now I feel much better!"

"What feels better?" Griffith asked. "Why?"

"I met her last night."

"Who?"

Salorian stared at Griffith with his empty, tired, dark-lined eyes: "The smooth black hair, the white and slender ankles, the cute and petite earlobes... all of them are beyond my imagination. This is undoubtedly the face of the most dazzlingly beautiful girl in the world. Oh, here she comes!

"Iletia!"

Suddenly, there came a series of seemingly endless friction and wriggling sounds from behind Griffith.

He turned his head and saw a face dripping with pus-like mucus and a flesh-like object completely covered with cilia and tentacles like earthworms, snakes, and worms.

The amorphous protoplasm bubble rolled in front of him and split into endless tentacles!

"Ah——!" Griffith screamed from the bottom of his heart. Salorian beside him looked up with full of love, as if the one in front of him was the most pure, flawless, gentle and moving girl in the world.

"Ah, Iletia," an incredible vitality emerged on Salorian's dead face, "she became his salvation, my friend. Nothing in the world can compare to her. I want to be with her." Yes, that's it, I will pretend to be normal in front of Tyberion, and leave surveillance for her no matter what.

"We can buy a cottage by the sea and live together every day!"

Griffith was so frightened that his soul was shattered. His entire vision was filled with huge, indescribable pieces of flesh, endless protoplasmic bubbles and tentacles. A voice that he had heard before, a voice that did not belong to any creature, filled his mind:
"Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!'"

What was even more frightening was that Griffith actually recognized the strange voice of this inhuman being. This was a very soft and pleasant voice that he had heard many times before - it came from "Miss Lover". After layers of inspiration and body reception and interpretation, this voice became a voice that humans could understand:
"sorry,

"You, run."

"What are you talking about?" Salorian suddenly yelled at Griffith, "Hughes, what are you talking to her about?"

Before Griffith could argue, a voice suddenly rang out from the empty castle. It was a faint, devilish sound that first appeared in Griffith's ears. It sounded like some kind of wild animal howling, coming from a very distant world.

The howling was approaching, an extremely blasphemous and strange sound that was rapidly increasing in size, like the howling of hounds and wolves, getting closer and closer.

Something emerged from the mist surrounding the castle—first an elongated, twisted head, then a body.

Its shape is hard to describe, like a wriggling liquid, like drifting smoke, and vaguely like a ferocious beast. In the open organ that can barely be called a mouthpart, there is a hollow straw that flutters in the mucus.

Griffith was horrified!

Razor-sharp teeth and claws, gleaming eyes and interlocking jaws, wolf-like, undulating coat of hazel and cyan.

What the hell is this——! Griffith screamed in his mind. In the dark, he seemed to hear the sound of two dice falling to the ground. His head was filled with dizziness and severe pain as if it was about to split open.

Griffith slashed it with his sword! But neither the sword nor the armor could stop this strange thing.

His chest was ripped open on the spot and he fell to the ground in a bloody mess.

……

"what--!"

A moment later, Griffith woke up. He hurriedly touched his body and was surprised to find that he was not injured. However, a stronger headache swept over him.

The pain of this mental shock was more severe than anything he had ever experienced in his life, and Griffith almost fell into darkness.

Griffith's sanity suffered as never before.

The situation was clear - Griffith had fallen into a certain realm. The attacks from his surroundings would not cause physical harm, but would cause a terrible mental shock.

The mystery and terror of Thalorian are destroying his will. Once his sanity collapses, even a demigod cannot escape the fall. In this case, it is good luck to die. Falling into eternal madness is the most terrible torture. At that time, people are no longer themselves, but puppets of a certain will.

Just then, Griffith suddenly heard footsteps.

This is the crisp sound of boots hitting the floor, very familiar...

"Griffith?"

Erza suddenly ran out from a corner, and when she saw Griffith, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why are you here?" Griffith asked in surprise, "Where is this?"

"This is the world of Thalorian, constructed in the realm of the spirit world."

"Huh?" Griffith was even more confused. "I feel like there are three or even four layers of domains here..."

"Don't stop, we have to move and buy time."

Erza grabbed his arm and walked forward without stopping:

"Warehouse 13 and the Hermit's Gathering share the same origin, and are worlds layered upon layer. That's why I can come in and support you.

"Salorian's mind was influenced by Iletia, the Shoggoth, and he was losing control. He began to behave in ways that were not normal, tried inhuman forbidden spells, and summoned a hound from time and space to kill Hughes, a classmate who had approached Iletia.

"He even transformed and brainwashed the people around him and used them as puppets. Until the end, he was determined to eliminate anyone who got in their way, even if they were once close friends.

"That black jagged peak is not a mountain. It is the ultimate Shoggoth from the abyss of extreme evil and terror that has been dormant since the time of the Ancients! Salorian wants to revive it, merge with it, and eventually become Iletia's fellow tribe to reproduce..."

At this point, Erza asked, "Do you know why Salorian suddenly attacked you?"

"Why?" Griffith whispered, "This is too sudden. As for the motive, the only thing I can think of is... the Lord of the Rings?"

As soon as the ring Minos was destroyed, Griffith was sucked into an abnormal space and attacked.

"Your inference is not without reason."

Salorian's voice appeared again.

He stood tall at the edge of the mist, holding a scepter in his hand and wearing the dictator's toga draped diagonally. Every inch of his exposed upper body was perfect and refined to the extreme. His handsome face was firm and distinct.

Griffith had never seen Salorian like this before. Different from the immature boy, the wise scholar and the majestic dictator, the Salorian in front of him was the incarnation of God in the world, a perfect being with ultimate beauty and power!

"Eruza Valkyrie, I have always loved you," Salorian said with a little anger in his smile, "I saw your scheme with the elves, but I was just curious about what methods you had to fight against me.

"You want to escape from my kingdom of God by destroying the magic ring I gave you?"

It happened too suddenly. Even though Griffith had anticipated various situations, the development of the situation was beyond his control.

Salorian swung the scepter. The dictator's ancient artifact was just a handy weapon in his hands.

"Come along, Griffith," Salorian's momentum surged, so powerful that it made people feel as if they were facing God directly, "In my kingdom of God, any mystery will be suppressed to the limit.

"Every time you lose a battle, you will fall from the rank; when the mystery is shattered and reason collapses, you will usher in the eternal end.

"The losers return to dust."

Erza stood in front of Griffith.

"What? You want to resist me?" Salorian raised his voice, "Don't you think that having one more God's Hand will give you a better chance of winning?"

"One?" The female hunter's eyes flickered. "That's not a skill~"

(End of this chapter)