Read Novel Full Chapter 608: Sickening Transformation?
Chapter 608: Sickening Transformation?
As that was going on, something else was happening in a far-off place.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The sounds that mimicked crisp autumn leaves resounded quietly under the boots of a tall man, who walked across a bloodstained land covered in roots and predatory plants, with the moon hanging high above his head.
The light of the artificial moon fell on him, exposing his figure as though he were caught under a spotlight.
A long, dark, tailored cloak with embroideries of thorny roses; a belt wrapped around his waist equipped with a variety of gardening tools; a black-beaked mask resembling that of a plague doctor’s; and thick black gloves.
This was the Gardener of Roses.
And currently, he was out on a mission.
He walked through a field of corpses with his arms behind his back; his boots treading over their limbs that seemed to snap under his steps.
Every corpse he stepped over gave off an aura ranging from Tier 2 to Tier 3 mages; there were over fifty of them. And each of them wore a uniform that bore the emblem of a black and silver hound.
The identities of these mages were servants of the Darkhound family.
Individually, they all were rather hesitant to fight the Gardener of Roses, but after they had all banded together, they were filled with courage.
Unfortunately...
"When there are many people, strength is great. But what can mere ants do to shake a tree?" The Gardener recited, continuing to walk through puddles of blood.
They were all weaklings, unless the Gardener were to meet someone of the 4th Tier, what could they possibly do to shake him?
He then stopped and twisted his head around. When he found what he was looking for, he turned on his heel and began moving in its direction.
With information gathered, the Darkhound’s family patriarch was out on a business trip, having brought all of his sons, besides one, and the family’s strongest servants.
In total, he brought along 5 sons and over five hundred servants.
It was yet to be known what the business trip was about...
But what the Gardener did know was that the Patriarch and his sons were separated; each moving towards different locations across the entire Underworld - rallying up and retrieving more of their branch family members.
His mission today was to assassinate one of these sons, the second-oldest son, to be specific. And exterminate the branch family.
The Gardener soon paused in his steps, stopping in front of a large corpse of a horrific amalgamation; this was the son he was tasked to kill.
The son was over five metres tall and was covered in uneven grey fur, appearing more like sickly clumps; some areas were thick and matted, while others were torn open - exposing the abomination’s dark skin and raw muscles underneath.
The monstrous fiend had three pairs of arms that extended from its torso at wrong and irregular angles. Its upper pair were oversized and overdeveloped, with the cords of its muscles stretched too tightly; its fingers, which were uncomfortably elongated, curled into hooked claws.
Its middle pair looked partially rejected, like it was an unwanted pair. Coming out from the ribcage, the arms were thin, extremely thin, and were unusually twisted, as if this pair had been forced out mid-development.
But the lowest pair was the strangest of all.
Crouching down, the Gardener of Roses took a closer look at the arms that seemed to move on their own.
Despite appearing to look much healthier than the middle arms, the lowest pair seemed almost vestigial - seemingly having a purpose, but barely working to achieve it.
The arms spasmed and shuddered on their own, despite the body already being deceased. The nails on its fingers went through a repetitive process of uncontrollable splitting and uneven regrowth - as if they were struggling to decide what they were.
Shifting his gaze away from the arms, the Gardener brought his eyes towards the main body.
The back of the abomination was the worst of it.
Sprouting out from its spine, which was split outwardly down the middle, were tendon-like protrusions that still writhed disgustingly with faint life, slapping against the large puddle of blood it was bathing in.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sounds of its wet slapping were unnerving. In the Gardener’s mind, these protrusions felt more like last-second additions; as if the monster was still trying to add more.
Nothing about the creature’s biology felt stable, even its legs - the limbs meant to keep it up - weren’t stable. Before its death, the Gardener remembered them to be ridiculously wobbly - its muscles contracting and relaxing consistently without failure, as if it were extremely cold.
Fortunately, that was all that was left of it.
After the son had transformed into this form, the Gardener had immediately chopped off his head - instantly ending his life. This wasn’t because he wanted to end the son fast, but because...
’What a sickening transformation!’
He felt fear.
Pushing his hand out, the Gardener picked up what appeared to be a syringe beside the monster’s corpse.
It had a thick and impractical metal needle that had a mysterious grey liquid dripping from its sharp tip; the rest of it was still hidden within the syringe’s glass barrel, with only one or two droplets left over.
The son’s transformation wasn’t caused by an ability, but by the self-injection of the syringe’s contents.
He was told that the second son was a Tier 3 mage, but that changed when he injected himself.
’Ascending an entire tier without Breakthrough or Trial... I haven’t discovered such a thing before.’
More accurately, the son managed to become a pseudo-Tier 4 mage - having the strength of one, but not actually being one.
However, despite this, the Gardener was sure that if he hadn’t killed the second son just right after his transformation, he would undoubtedly have trouble putting him down.
Glancing at the syringe again, he clutched it tightly. Whatever liquid was in it was dangerous, capable of turning a man into a horrific fiend.
He must study it.