The Night that (10): The rot was purified.

Sorry for the sudden disappearance. A lot happened — I’ll explain everything at the end of the chapter, in case anyone’s interested.

As an apology, the chapter I posted on (P)(A)(T) is the longest I’ve ever released — a 20k-word arc finale. I also consider it one of my best, if not the best.

Wishing you all a great Day and a good read!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori

[...]---[...]

After everyone’s initial shock wore off, we had a quick introduction before Ísis was pulled into another room by Mari—or Maribel, as her full name was—and Ahinadab, who apologized for the lack of manners and said that Bel, or Beldin, the dwarf, would accompany me to the living room.

I could hear him whispering to Beldin to behave, just before the other three members of Team Pebble went to another room.

… I still had to ask why they chose that name.

With each name, a ‘ping’ sounded from the stream, filling in parts of the text that had ‘???’, in the order they were introduced to me. By the end, I had the four names I needed for the mission.

[Secondary Objective (3): Cure Ísis, Maribel, Ahinadab, and Beldin before the activation of the "Nine-Tailed Crown Mark."]

I just didn’t know which NPCs Maribel and Beldin were—that is, if they really were NPCs from the game.

While the others went off to talk, interrogate, and scold Ísis, Beldin became my ‘guide’ around the house. He barely spoke, only saying, “Follow me,” before walking ahead, stopping once we reached the mansion’s living room. There, he simply pointed to one of the sofas and said, “Sit down, if you want.” Then he went into another room, returned with a mug of beer in hand, and sat in one of the armchairs.

A dwarf of few words.

I did the same and sat in the other armchair. There were two of them, one at each end of the table, with two large sofas on either side, and the table in the center.

When I realized the dwarf wasn’t going to say anything—just sit there in silence, drinking and staring into nothing with a furrowed brow—I shifted my attention to Ísis’ interrogation.

“I just thought, like, someone that strong must have a reason for coming to the desert. What better reason than the ants? He must be heading for Shahrabad, and he probably looks different from the locals. Should be easy to find him! So I started searching the city once we got back home.”

“I know that! You already explained this part!” Maribel’s growl sounded frustrated. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had some crazy idea that makes no sense—”

“But it did! I found him!”

“That’s the part I don’t understand! Your crazy theories are usually just that—crazy theories!”

“But my instincts for weird stuff are good…” I could imagine Ísis pouting at that moment. “We found several Strange Plants thanks to them. I got us out of plenty of trouble, too. I even figured out you were being cheated on before you did!”

“That was just once! And we don’t talk about my breakups!” Maribel shouted back. “And you got us into plenty of trouble too!”

Ísis seemed to ignore the second part and replied:

“Actually, twice. And in one of them, your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with an ex-girlfriend. Seriously, how do you play for both teams and still end up with the worst picks?"

I heard a growl, followed by what sounded like a knife being drawn, and then a clap.

“Enough. This isn’t the time. If you two want to argue, do it later.” Ahinadab’s voice silenced them. “Ísis, you were right, fine. Your Pink Sense was right again. What I want to know is: is he dangerous?”

“He created a fire tornado several kilometers wide and killed thousands of ants. Of course he’s dangerous, silly~” Her response was followed by a loud male sigh.

“… For us, Ísis. Is he dangerous to our team?”

“Oh! That, no. Devas is pretty chill. Kind of a goofball, despite that serious face. He took my jokes and mild insults without even flinching! He even threw some back!”

“I may have known him for…” She paused, humming. “About thirty minutes? Maybe a little more. I wasn’t keeping track of time. But I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s like a caramelized cactus—tough on the outside, soft on the inside!”

I blinked, then sighed at the comparison.

(“You know, she’s not wrong…”) Ozma’s voice echoed in my mental mic. He wasn’t the only one who agreed with the Party Girl.

Messages exploded in a burst of confetti:

[(MOD)GeniusBillionairePlayboy]Fucking accurate. DS just looks serious, but after watching him for so long, I can confidently say he’s actually a imbecile!… Ahem. I mean, a very kind person. ¯\(ツ)/¯

[AsuraLady]A complete teddy bear.

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]Caramelized cactus sounds awful. Devas is more like a caramel apple or a toasted marshmallow! But she’s right.(Emote of Red Riding Hood sitting around a campfire, roasting marshmallows)

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]She’s good, figured it out fast. Took me like two days? That was when Devas blew himself up trying to enchant his helmet with a rune. Good times, back when explosions brought me entertainment instead of financial problems… ༼ つ ಥ_ಥ ༽つ

… So, apparently, whatever respect I had here had been thrown straight to hell.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes and tuning out the conversation most of Team Pebble was having. Letting my gaze wander around the room.

The place was aesthetically pleasing, well-organized, and decorated, but I noticed a subtle difference in the décor: it was as if parts of the house belonged to entirely different cultures. And it wasn’t just a one-time thing.

There was the Shahrabadian part—I think that’s what it was called. It was the most common, especially on the walls, with a paint style that strongly resembled surface houses, along with transparent fabrics draping the doorways, acting as makeshift doors.

I noticed that the pattern painted at the top of the fabrics was connected to the sigil beside the ‘door,’ essentially forming a lock.

The fabric itself also had small Mystic Symbols woven along its length, probably to increase mana conductivity. When activated, the sigil would likely make the fabric as stiff as wood and turn the more transparent parts opaque.

A cool and useful trick, which I made sure to note down in my mental notebook.

Beyond the Shahrabadian influence, I could distinguish what seemed like two or three other cultures—or at least I thought so.

The most recognizable was one that seemed Nordic—or this world’s equivalent.

The sofas and armchairs were covered in animal pelts, like bears, wolves, and deer, skulls and all. There were also some mounted animal heads on the walls—some taxidermied, others just skulls—and none of these creatures were native to the desert.

Some furniture was made from a darker wood, similar to the boreal wood of WinterHord. The cups and mugs had a design that reminded me of something Viking—or as close as it got.

Between these two styles, there were two others. One I recognized well: the kingdom’s. It was more medieval European—or at least it would be on Earth. The framed paintings on the walls, the cutlery style next to the plates—identical to what I’d seen in the kingdom—even some I had stored in my VoidBag.

My arrival had probably interrupted the start of lunch or dinner, depending on how this group organized their day.

Not just that, but even the Mystic Symbols were in the kingdom’s style. I noticed that Shahrabad had a different way of structuring its Mystic Symbols, its sigils. Even several symbols themselves were distinct. It wasn’t like the goblins’ symbols, which could be considered a different ‘language,’ but the difference was noticeable at first glance.

Well, that was more the case for the surface Mystic Symbols. The underground ones were a mix of both styles.

The fourth and final culture was the least present in the house. It had a more Eastern—probably Chinese—touch. The smell from the kitchen reminded me of Chinese food, not Japanese. The few visible elements included a small bamboo table in the center of the room, some light blue vases, and a pair of chopsticks—or kuai-tzu, the Chinese name for them.

I could associate a 'culture' with each member of the group without much thought. The Shahrabad part had to belong to the leader, Ahinadab. Of all of them, he was the one who looked the most like a native of the city.

The 'Nordic' part belonged to Beldin, which was obvious. The only thing I still had doubts about was: where did he come from? I had seen dozens, if not hundreds, of dwarves in the kingdom, but Beldin was the first with reddish, almost terracotta skin. As if his skin were made of clay rich in iron… or burning embers.

The 'Chinese' part had to be Maribel's. The name didn’t quite fit, but that seemed to be common in Terraria. It was the same on Earth, actually. But she had some features that reminded me a little of that culture. Maybe her parents were from different places. Mine were like that, too.

My grandfather and grandmother on my mother's side were from two different countries, just like my mother and my ‘father.’

Finally, the kingdom’s part had to be Ísis’s. I hadn’t known everyone here for long, but I doubted that anyone other than her would put bubble paintings or rubber duckies on the walls. She seemed like the only one in the group who would do that.

As I analyzed the room, Beldin leaned forward in his armchair, took a sip of beer, and set the mug down on the small coffee table.

He burped before asking, "So, was it really you who made that fire tornado?" His gaze narrowed slightly as he watched me. "Good job killing those ants. Fucking disgusting things. Did the kingdom send you?"

"Yes and no. My job involves something else, but I ended up in the desert, and one thing led to another." I kept my explanation vague on purpose. It was better to let them fill in the gaps themselves.

"Something else?..." He grumbled, scratching his beard, before taking a guess. "That fucked-up storm?"

"Exactly." I didn’t bother hiding it.

"Shit, we lost some good jobs because of that colossal mess." He grabbed the mug and took another sip before burping again. "Tell me something: when the hell is that thing gonna be gone? Can’t you speed up your work? We have two contracts next month, and if the storm doesn’t clear up, they’re probably fucked too."

("Incredibly eloquent swearing, I’d say. He reminds me of Qrow, but redder and shorter.") Ozma commented.

("Qrow didn’t swear that much.") But he drank just as much.

("And Beldin probably doesn’t have a Ruby forcing him to pay five lien for every curse word.")

("Fair enough.") I had also kept myself in check for a similar reason.

"That’s not really my job. But the storm should clear in a week or two if everything goes right." I paused my mental conversation with Ozma and continued the one with Beldin.

"And if it doesn’t?"

"Then we’re fucked. It happens." I shrugged. He frowned, his face looking even more constipated. "Speaking of which—did you and your group enter the storm?" I asked.

I could use Analyze: Item on them, but I preferred to avoid it. Analyzing a person cost SP, and the stronger they were, the more SP it required. It seemed to be even more expensive when the person in question was an NPC.

"No." Beldin gave a blunt answer, took another sip of his drink, and continued, gesturing with his thumb behind him. "The pink menace said the rain looked weird, so we didn’t touch a single drop."

"You’ve been a team for a long time? You trust Ísis a lot." All of them did, apparently. Not that time was necessarily a sign of trust.

"Almost ten years. Give or take a few months, not sure exactly." He shrugged. That was quite a long time. "I don’t like counting anything that isn’t money. And you? How long have you been in this line of work?"

"You mean as a contractor?" The dwarf nodded. "A little over seven months."

"Shit, if you’re gonna lie, don’t even answer." He took another sip and didn’t press the matter.

Nobody ever believed me when I told the truth, as always…

"Can I ask something? It might be offensive—"

"I’m a Blood Dwarf." He cut me off.

"… I take it you get that question a lot."

"Like, a fucking lot. I’m pretty sure people ask me that more than they ask my name. Even other damn dwarves ask me that…" He huffed, grumbling, and brought a finger to his mouth, picking at something between his teeth.

After finding what he was looking for—a piece of food, I assume—he wiped his hand on his pants, but not before eating what he had found, and then continued:

"To sum it up real quick, ‘cause I feel like it: I’m from an isolated tribe of dwarves. An island in the northern sea, cold as fuck and all that. Our skin is this color because we were blessed by a great fire spirit a long time ago."

"Cool, I didn’t know about that tribe." I hummed to myself. Or about the others, honestly, but whatever.

I didn’t doubt they had been blessed, even though I couldn’t feel anything. The General had been, and I hadn’t been able to detect his blessing. Considering the Fae were basically spirits, it was probably the same case here.

I could also tell that his body temperature was higher than normal. The body temperature of Terrarians and dwarves was the same as that of humans; Beastkins were slightly warmer, varying by species. But Beldin? He’d probably be considered to have a terminal fever—so high he’d start cooking himself from the inside—if he were a Terrarian or human.

That was when the others chose to return. Ahinadab led the way, with Maribel and Ísis right behind him, the latter with several floating bubbles around her, each carrying a plate of food or a pot.

"Sorry for the delay. Your arrival caught us off guard." The leader apologized as he approached.

Meanwhile, Maribel crouched down to the small coffee table and touched the bottom of one of the corners. I felt a pulse of mana before she pulled the table up and slid it to the side, making it rise and turn circular, thanks to extra parts emerging from within the bamboo, losing its previous rectangular shape.

A gear mechanism unlocked with mana. Probably a Mystic Symbol array. Simple but functional. Eating with sofas and armchairs instead of chairs was cozier in a way…

"No, it’s fine. I completely understand." I replied politely—no reason not to.

"See? I told you he was nice." I heard Isis whisper to Maribel before the latter elbowed her in the side.

After Ísis’s bubbles floated above the table, she clapped twice, making them pop and dropping the plates, cups, and pots. The smell of food was good. I noticed there was one more plate than before, bringing the total to five.

The food was simple: pasta with sauce, braised meat—of what animal, I had no idea, but it smelled like beef—and salad. For drinks, there were three types of juice: pear, strawberry, and something green I couldn’t identify, plus beer.

Ahinadab sat on the right-side sofa, while Maribel and Isis took the left one. A semi-transparent bubble covered the two, the same one Isis had used before. Probably due to the raccoon Beastkin’s sensitivity to mana.

Beldin didn’t wait for an invitation to start eating, while the other three left their food untouched, just assembling their plates. I didn’t serve myself—I wasn’t hungry and didn’t plan to stay until the end of dinner—maybe it was lunch, I wasn’t entirely sure.

Each person’s juice choice stood out: Isis picked strawberry, Maribel pear, and Ahinadab the green one. Beldin stuck with beer.

The first to speak was Ahinadab.

"Ísis told us you had something important to discuss. Something about the kingdom’s mark ink. What is it?" His tone was neutral, but I could sense hesitation.

I could feel it too, thanks to Shadowflame. Negative emotions were much easier to detect than positive ones. I turned to look at the woman in pink.

"I didn’t know how to explain it, so I figured it’d be better to leave it with you." She shrugged before starting to eat. I sighed.

"This might kill your appetite." I warned.

"That bad?..." Maribel was the one to speak. Her voice grew a little tense as I turned to her. "We already knew there was something wrong with the ink. How bad is it, really?"

I organized my thoughts for a moment and turned to their team leader.

"Isis told me you figured out there were brain parts from... something in the ink."

He nodded. "It wasn’t that hard. Whoever made the ink did a good job, but I’m the best at what I do." His tone wavered between arrogance and confidence. "I couldn’t determine what animal the brain matter belonged to—I've never encountered anything like it. I assume that’s the issue?"

"Yes. The brain matter acts like a parasite." I didn’t sugarcoat it and got straight to the point, summarizing it as best as I could.

"It’s slow, but it seeps into the skin and makes its way into the bloodstream, leaving traces all over the body. Most of it drifts until it reaches the brain, where it settles into tiny spheres—seeds, basically." I paused, giving them time to process the information. Their faces grew more strained with every word. "It doesn’t do anything at first; it's actually harmless while dormant, even helping with body and mana regeneration. But once it awakens and the seeds hatch, they take root in the brain and control the body."

I didn’t mention that the Brain Root also essentially turned its hosts into masses of flesh, pus, and clots, riddled with bruises. I didn’t think it was necessary—they already seemed to grasp how disgusting this ink was.

Maribel’s face had taken on a greenish hue. She looked like she was about to throw up but was holding it together well. Ahinadab ran both hands down his face, letting out a long, frustrated sigh, while Beldin frowned, staring at the back of his left hand—empty, but probably where he’d usually place the mark, as if he wanted to rip it off with his teeth.

Ísis was the least affected. I had already given her a description of what the mark’s ink did before, but even so, she seemed to have lost most of her appetite.

One thing that struck me as odd was that none of them seemed to doubt me. They didn’t even ask for proof or any kind of document verifying that I was actually affiliated with the crown.

Well, I guess they didn’t think it was necessary after my stunt in the desert… Come to think of it, I probably should have asked Charlotte for some sort of document. Even if it was just to let it gather dust inside my Voidbag, since I doubted I’d ever actually use it.

"This is the part where you say you have a cure for this, right?" Isis turned to me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her tone carried a hint of desperation. "Please tell me you do. You have no idea how much effort I put into keeping my body looking this good—I’m not losing it to some brain parasite!"

With the pink-clad woman’s words, everyone at the table turned to me.

"Not exactly. I have something that should be able to cure you, eliminate anything abnormal in your bodies, and restore everything to normal… However, I only found out about this ink recently, so I can’t guarantee that my 'cure' will work." I explained, raising my right hand in front of me, palm up, where the bag of Purification Powder created by Alalia appeared.

"Is that the cocaine you mentioned earlier?" Ísis’ eyes widened at the sight of the white powder. "Are we supposed to snort it?"

"No. To both questions." I pointed at her with my free hand. Isis pouted, as if she actually wanted to try it.

I was sure this woman was on something.

"And if it doesn’t work?" Pebble’s team leader turned to me, expertly ignoring Isis’ reaction. "You said this parasite is harmless when dormant…" I could practically see his thoughts bouncing around behind his eyes. "If the cure doesn’t work, if we can’t purge it from our bodies, is it possible to just keep it from waking up?"

"In theory? Yes. In practice? I have no idea." I shook my head and looked at Ahinadab. "Either way, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep this thing in your body. Any of you."

Fuck that, this ink was disgusting. That brain matter was revolting. Even if I found out I could keep it dormant and it would somehow help me, I still wouldn’t let that shit enter my body.

I had creatures made of negative emotions, literal sins, insane hallucinations given form, the amalgamation of what could only be described as rotten, disgusting sludge—all of it inside my Spiritual Realm—and yet, all of that was still preferable to letting that vile ink touch my skin ever again.

"I agree! I don’t want worms in me!" Ísis shouted, standing up. "Devas, have you tested this cure on anyone yet? If not, I volunteer as the test subject."

Before I could answer, the other three members of her team spoke as one: "No."

"You are not going to be a guinea pig." Maribel yanked Isis down, growling the words. "Especially not with something involving your brain. We’re already screwed—I don’t want you having a stroke in front of me!"

"Maribel is right. I wouldn’t put it that way, but offering yourself—"

"That’s why I’ll be the test subject." Beldin interrupted Ahinadab. When the three turned to him, he scoffed, took a swig of his beer, and slammed the mug onto the table. "What? Don’t give me those dumb looks. Come on, you Terrarians have soft bodies. I’m built different—I can handle whatever it is, even if the cure goes wrong."

"I’m half Beastkin and half Terrarian." Maribel’s response was as dry as her glare at the dwarf.

"Shit and compost, big difference. Still soft." Beldin burped and stood up, walking over to my side of the table. "Ignore them. Let’s just test the cure already. The only thing made of flesh I like moving inside my body is a dwarf woman’s tongue in my mouth."

I admit the phrase caught me a little off guard. Judging by how the others didn’t react, they were probably used to it. I couldn’t say the same, but in a way, it was pretty funny.

"If you end up brain-damaged because something in your head broke, I’m not wiping your ass." Maribel pointed at the dwarf. "This is stupid, even for our group."

"I agree." Their leader spoke up next. "There’s no reason for one of us to be a test subject. We can—"

"What? Grab a beggar and use them as a test subject?" Beldin cut in.

"Can you stop interrupting me? We’ve had this conversation a thousand times. It’s rude."

"And your idea is fucking stupid." The dwarf jabbed a thumb at Isis. "She gets upset over random people dying. We avoid fights because of it. Hell, we only kill as a last resort, and now you want to capture someone and use them as an experiment?!"

"It’s different—our lives are at stake here…" Ísis joined the conversation. Her voice was a little hesitant but firm. "I wouldn’t mind. We’re not rookies. I don’t like death, but I’ve seen enough—you know that, Beldin."

"And you think I was born yesterday to believe that bullshit?! Then you’ll mope for months, and we’ll have to go buy that nasty-ass strawberry and raisin ice cream of yours!" The dwarf scoffed. Ahinadab sighed, seeming to agree with Beldin.

"We could grab an assassin, a rapist, or something like that," Maribel suggested. Her eyes flicked between Isis and me, as if gauging our reactions. "It wouldn’t be that hard to find someone disposable. I have a few people who owe me favors—I can collect, and by the end of the day, we’ll have someone tied up at our door."

("Familiar words, aren’t they?") Ozma’s voice echoed in my head.

I completely ignored my schizophrenia.

Before the discussion escalated, I pulled a medium healing potion from my inventory and lightly tapped the glass on the table, drawing everyone’s attention. I also placed a box of Adhesive Bandages beside it.

"This is a healing potion." I gestured toward the vial with my free hand. "It should heal any injury, in case the ‘cure’ for the parasites fails." I shifted my gesture toward the box. "These are enchanted bandages, made from a special material. They prevent any bleeding in the area where they're applied."

"In short, this will keep him"—I pointed at Beldin—"from bleeding internally. And if a severe injury occurs, the potion will heal him."

"So even if this goes wrong, I won’t end up flopping around like a fish on a board because my brain started bleeding? Is that it?" the dwarf asked.

"It shouldn’t happen, but I can’t guarantee anything." I warned, already realizing what he was about to do. I didn’t stop him, even though it would have been easy.

"That’s good enough for me."

Without warning, the dwarf's right arm blurred, darting toward the bag of Purification Powder.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed his intent. Everyone caught on just moments before he acted, but no one managed to stop him in time.

Ahinadab was on the other side of the table and wouldn’t have made it even if he tried. Ísis and Maribel were the closest. The former flicked her hand, creating and launching a bubble toward the dwarf—it passed through the larger bubble surrounding the two without disturbing it—while Maribel stood up and took a step forward, her arm blurring in a swift motion to grab Beldin’s.

Credit where it’s due—Beldin was quick for someone compact. And experienced in combat, too.

The dwarf barely turned his head before spitting at Ísis’s bubble. The impact caused the sphere to ‘capture’ the spit and float toward the ceiling. Though Maribel was faster and more agile, Beldin seemed to anticipate her movement effortlessly. With a sharp motion, he swung his left arm, flicking his fingers upward and striking the raccoon half-Beastkin’s wrist, deflecting her hand by mere inches.

Beldin wasted no time and didn’t wait for his ‘attackers’ to recover. He clenched his hand, grabbed a handful of Purification Powder, and brought it to his mouth. It was more than enough, but it didn’t matter. Alalia had given me a considerable amount of the powder, so wasting a little here and there wasn’t a big deal.

And I couldn’t even call this a waste, really. It was a serious situation—better to overdo it than to fall short.

"I’ll paint your coffin pink if you die," Isis said, irritated. A little hypocritical of her, but whatever.

"He won’t have a coffin if he dies. I’ll feed him to the ants," Ahinadab sounded just as annoyed. "Or throw him into the sea and let the fish deal with the remains. What do you think, Maribel?"

"Ants. Polluting the ocean is bad." The woman replied, grabbing one of the bandages and smacking it against Beldin’s forehead. He didn’t dodge.

I noticed her pinky twitch when she picked up one of the bandages, holding three others as if she intended to pocket them. It was a subtle movement—Maribel was clearly a highly skilled thief—but she hesitated for a moment before dropping the rest of the bandages and sitting back down.

"So much drama. I’m not gonna die from this, and I already told you—I want to be cremated when I die. If you don’t cremate me, I’ll come back and haunt the hell out of you." Beldin’s words came between chews, small puffs of powder escaping his mouth with every sentence. "Shit, this is dry. It’s a bitch to swallow."

"It’s powder. You were supposed to mix it with water, not chew it," I pointed out.

My words seemed to remind Beldin that he could drink something. He grabbed the nearest cup—Maribel’s—and washed the rest of the powder down with juice.

I kept my full attention on the dwarf in case anything abnormal happened and I needed to intervene personally. I had Shadowflame ready, as well as a few Nightmares. I wasn’t sure how useful the latter would be, but I had some ideas on how they could help.

Nothing happened in the first two seconds. Beldin just stood there, as if waiting for something…

"Is that all—splat."

… then he spat blood. A considerable amount.

The blood wasn’t the usual red—it was dark brown, a shade reminiscent of rot, with small patches of crimson red, tiny spheres floating in the liquid. The stench was rancid, like a carcass left by the roadside for days under the scorching sun, mixed with the metallic scent of blood and something faintly sweet. The texture was slimy, like thick glue.

I stepped back, avoiding the vomit of rot. I made sure to push the armchair with me—the rug might be a lost cause, but there was no reason for the chair to go to waste too.

Beldin dropped to one knee, bracing himself against the other as he kept vomiting. His face was contorted. I noticed he couldn’t breathe. The rotten blood also started seeping from his nose, the corners of his eyes, and his ears.

"Don’t go near him," I ordered when Maribel, Ísis, and Ahinadab started moving. I let my gaze fall on each of them, even though my focus remained on the dwarf. "Don’t get close. Don’t touch him. Don’t touch the blood. He’s fine."

"How the hell is he fine? He’s vomiting blood!" Maribel shouted, but she didn’t move.

"Normal blood doesn’t stink like rot," I reminded her. "Just wait. His body is expelling the ink’s infection."

Beldin couldn’t breathe and looked to be in bad shape. It couldn’t have been pleasant, obviously. But he wasn’t actually in danger. The way his muscles contracted was normal, his eyes and pupils weren’t abnormal, and his mana was only slightly unstable—nothing dangerous.

"Don’t interfere," I warned and stepped forward.

Ignoring the stares I received, I crouched and placed my hand on the back of the dwarf’s head. In an instant, Shadowflame covered my palm and the red hair beneath it. I felt everyone tense up, but no one moved. The one who came closest was their leader, but he held himself back.

I narrowed my eyes, focusing on what was happening inside Beldin’s head. I let the Shadowflame act as a mediator between my senses and the rotten blood. I was sensitive to everything vile within that ink—and so was the flame. I merged the two perceptions and blocked out everything around me.

The first thing to fade was sound—my hearing. All noise disappeared. The second was color—my sight, as I closed my eyes. The third was air—my sense of touch, leaving me unable to feel my surroundings. The fourth was my perception of mana, spiritual energy, nightmare energy, and everything else.

Everything around me became void. For all intents and purposes, I perceived nothing but what was happening inside the dwarf’s head. I wasn’t worried about being attacked—I doubted any of the other three would do anything, and even if they did, my Nightmares had orders to protect me.

I could hear the muscles in the dwarf’s head shifting. I ignored it. The flesh moving. I ignored it. The blood pumping through his veins. I ignored it. The blood in his brain. The Purification Powder. I followed the flow, the current, and found the sparse remnants of the Brain Root, which was being purified and destroyed.

I paid close attention to what the ‘parasite’ was, how it moved and existed, how the Purification Powder acted against it. I ‘observed’ carefully to get an idea of how I could burn it myself with Shadowflame without harming the host.

I delved deeper into my senses…

I heard the whisper…

'Hungry… Mother…'

[...]---[...]

Well, here’s what happened:

I had to stay at my mom’s house to take care of her. The dog’s death really hit her hard. She was in terrible shape and had to stay in the hospital for a few days. I didn’t even have time to stop by my place. On top of that, I ran into problems at work with a crappy department manager.

We ended up arguing, and I just decided to quit. I’ve already found another job—I’d been thinking about leaving for a while anyway. A friend referred me to a better position. Same role, but better pay and a work environment that’s a thousand times less toxic.

Meanwhile, my work laptop broke down. That was part of why I got into trouble at my job—I ended up delaying a project by about a day. It was a relatively simple issue: the charging port was loose and the laptop wouldn’t charge at all.

I lost some money getting it fixed, but it’s all sorted now.

Other than that, I think that’s pretty much it. My mom’s doing better, and the new puppy I got her is absolutely adorable—they’ve bonded really well.

I’d like to say when I’ll post the next chapter or promise I’ll speed up the releases, but I’m going to hold off on that. Every time I say something like that, something goes wrong. It’s like misfortune reads what I write.

So, I’ll just post things without warning. That’s worked better, and I’ve managed to keep a more consistent schedule than when I used to make announcements...

Anyway, let’s get to the chapter!

I wanted to give a broader view of Team Pebble, and there’s a reason for that name—it’s something from Ísis. Speaking of her... damn accent marks, I always forget to add them.

That’s why I included the description of the house, the characters, their personalities, and so on.

The most important part of the chapter was towards the end. Brain Root would have been a much bigger problem before, as well as the ants, but now it’s something that can be managed quite easily. Not completely, of course—the "infection" has spread throughout the city—but there are ways to work around it...

The real problem is the voice at the end. I’m going to focus the next chapter entirely on the plot. I’ve stalled too much already—Devas was supposed to head into the desert in this chapter.

Well, I guess that’s it. Good Day, everyone, and happy reading!

PS: I was thinking about setting up a Discord server or a chat on since I saw they had an update. I’ll see if I can make something cool. I barely use Discord, so I’d have to check what actually changed on .