Incompetent and cowardly

Chapter 341 - 245: Flesh Nest_2

Chapter 341: Chapter 245: Flesh Nest_2


"Ghouls are not born naturally; they are usually created by Necromancers using Sorcery. Their presence here indicates that there must be a Necromancer nearby who summoned it," Lance glanced at the creature. This was also why he had not joined the battle earlier.


The mention of a Necromancer made everyone, who had just relaxed because the Ghoul had fallen, tense up again. Everyone knew that Necromancers who desecrated bodies were regarded as supremely evil wherever they went.


"Fergus didn’t sense any unusual smells around earlier, so he shouldn’t be nearby," Lance said reassuringly, bending down to inspect the Ghoul.


Such malevolent Undead creatures opened his eyes to a world that did not adhere to the logic of normal life. However, he did not Sacrifice it directly; instead, he placed it in the Exhibition Room.


Paracelsus would surely like this "gift," and Lance was also curious about these inhuman monsters. Only by thoroughly studying them could he resolve future encounters more quickly and simply.


But the matter was far from over; everyone knew that the appearance of a Ghoul was just the beginning.


With this in mind, Lance couldn’t help but cast his gaze towards the entrance to the tomb.


"The Ghoul has run out, so there shouldn’t be any danger inside. The smell down there is too foul; Fergus probably won’t like it. William, you and Wang Cai, stay outside and keep watch. We’ll go in and take a look."


Lance spoke with confidence. He hadn’t forgotten that he studied archaeology and could tell at a glance that the tomb chamber below wouldn’t be very large.


After a brief rest, the formation changed again, with Lance leading and Balistan at the rear.


The stench was overwhelming. Before even entering, just standing at the entrance, a rotten protein smell rushed into his nostrils and up into his brain.


There was no wind blowing from inside, meaning there was likely only one entrance. With the air not circulating well, the foul smell became even more intense. It went without saying how many germs were in the rotting stench emitted in this sweltering heat.


Lance, who already had a bit of modern-day germophobia, looked visibly discomforted for a moment.


Luckily, he had also endured the old Witch’s noxious Incense training, so he was prepared. He pulled out two cloth masks he had sewn and tied them on their faces; they contained Grendel’s herbal mix, which could remove odors and confer some resistance.


With the makeshift gas masks in place, the group finally ventured deeper.


Lance lit a torch and extended it inside to ensure there was enough oxygen before proceeding. Balistan, at the back of the group, also raised a torch to illuminate their path.


Lance did not wear a mask; he figured he could get used to the smell, and there would be many similar situations in the future.


What really worried him were the possible germs, but Natural Purification meant he didn’t have to be overly concerned.


The others were suffering, though. Even with the masks, it was quite unbearable, but they had no choice but to bite the bullet and press on.


Following the sloped passage downward, it was shorter than expected—only about six or seven meters deep—and the torchlight revealed the main body of the tomb.


It was a brick and stone chamber, supported by four stone pillars on each side, with a roughly carved stone coffin placed in the middle. Unfortunately, it had already been desecrated.


Lance lifted the torch, examining the interior architecture in the flickering firelight. He surmised that this was probably the burial place of some noble Knight, perhaps one who ruled over a nearby Knight’s Domain. However, with Hamlet’s decline, the dense jungle had long since swallowed this area, leaving it barren except for this underground brick and stone tomb.


But not much of it had been preserved...


Lance went straight to the coffin and took a look. Judging from the violent method, it appeared to have been forced open. The empty interior couldn’t help but make him scoff, "Pauper!"


Lance shifted his disdainful gaze from the coffin but noticed something sticky beneath his feet. He moved the torch closer.


The darkness in the corner of the chamber was driven away by the light, revealing an even darker scene. The intense visuals assaulted Lance’s senses, even eliciting a gasp. "What is this?"


A pile of human bones was stacked in some fashion, so intertwined that one could not distinguish individuals. It was unclear how many people were mixed in here.


In the stuffy heat, flesh was rotting. Muscles between the corpses were dissolving and then re-agglomerating into a large flesh nest.


A significant amount of an indescribable, bright yellow, gelatinous substance oozed out, flowing freely on the ground. Stepping on it produced a strangely viscous sensation, inducing revulsion.


Above this rotten flesh, white maggots as thick as fingers writhed en masse—a sight so dense and unsettling it would make one’s hair stand on end instantly.


The faint sound of the worms nibbling, amplified in this environment, seemed to echo in one’s ears, as if the insects were crawling on and gnawing at one’s own body, causing an uncontrollable itch all over.


Where the worms had crawled, only the bared, ghostly white bones of skulls remained, their empty eye sockets staring in this direction, filled with writhing maggots.


Even Lance, who had witnessed many bloody and brutal battlefields, couldn’t help but feel a wave of nausea at this scene.


Damn it, couldn’t these monsters pay a bit of attention to hygiene?


Lance looked at this thing with a grim expression. Unfortunately, there was no one by his side proficient in Mysticism to tell him what purpose this flesh nest served, but it clearly wasn’t anything benign.


His voice also caught the attention of the other two; their muffled voices transmitted through the masks.


"Damn this desecration! What exactly do those evil cults want to do?" Balistan cursed.


"What is this thing?" Boudica added, her voice equally strained.


Balistan and Boudica, too, were accustomed to bloody scenes, but they also felt sickened by this one; it was a situation beyond human imagination.


Lance, however, recovered quickly. He wouldn’t claim expertise in everything, but his adaptability was undoubtedly strong. Even the most shocking images only lingered in his mind for a few seconds; after all, his soul had been tempered by the modern information age.


My resilience is impressive!


He even took the initiative to move closer, studying it carefully under the torchlight.


Though the flesh had fused, Lance could still make out from the bones mingled within that most of the flesh was human. The tattered clothes amongst it indicated that these were likely refugees.


"Why haven’t we seen any of the missing serfs?" Balistan’s words pulled Lance’s focus back from his scattered thoughts.


Lance walked around the flesh pile and, indeed, found no sign of them.


He had a monopoly on all production in the town, including clothes and fabrics. As a modern person, he had no fondness for cumbersome and elaborate attire, so he had led the way in reforming them, prioritizing simplicity and comfort.


Most people in the town had been given a set of the new clothes. The serfs’ attire was also standardized but distinguished by form and color, making them uniquely recognizable compared to anyone else in this world.


But there was no sign of such clothing here, not a single piece.


This raised Lance’s suspicion.


He had initially thought the Ghouls were capturing people to perform rituals and construct this thing. But since the serfs weren’t here, what were the Ghouls kidnapping people for?


Questions swirled in his mind, and Lance habitually reframed the problem.


Setting aside the ritual’s purpose, why did its architect choose this particular location?


Lance estimated the location. It was already beyond the town’s actual control and also beyond the Witch’s corrupted area; it seemed to avoid both.


Choosing a decrepit underground tomb was most likely to conceal the ritual’s effects; otherwise, a mass of decaying corpses would be detected from afar, attracting attention.


So, it was chosen for secrecy, clearly indicating they didn’t want to be found.


As for the Ghoul’s appearance here, it was likely stationed as a Guard. The fact that it charged as soon as Lance and his companions approached suggested its programmed directive was protection.


But if that was the case, one thing didn’t add up: why would the Ghoul go so far as to provoke the serfs from the Vanguard Camp?


"Of the seven who went missing, were only the last three found as corpses?" Lance asked Balistan, his brow furrowed in doubt.


"No. Some were found, some weren’t. Those found were mostly just mangled remains."


Of course! They need to eat! Lance seemed to have realized something, and a knowing smile spread across his face.