Chapter Forty-Two: The Madman’s Soliloquy

“Don’t make things worse! We can handle it!” I shouted.

The silken threads spun by those white worms were razor sharp, easily slicing through flesh, though against the undead and bloodkind above, their effect was limited. Yet the threads wove too densely, forcing Steelbind to shield his eyes, nose, and mouth to keep them from being pierced. The worms were so tiny that Steelbind could crush them with a single grab, but their scattered numbers made them a chore to deal with—Lamia’s precise shots, on the other hand, proved far more effective.

Steelbind roared, his claws shimmering with a crimson light. With a single sweep, he unleashed a force akin to a psychic blade, shredding swathes of worms. Solaise’s hair spun in whirling arcs, mowing down the creatures like a machine trimming grass, as white carcasses fell like rain.

Once the path ahead was finally cleared, Steelbind commanded, “Move quickly.” I struggled to wade through the filthy water, which neither deepened nor grew any shallower.

Passing a certain spot, I glimpsed a faint glow at the bottom: mushrooms carpeted the ground, eerily reminiscent of those nightmare fungi from my memories.

Lamia aimed her gun upward, shattering all the white spheres adorning the ceiling. They splashed into the water. I was still staring at the mushrooms when I saw those orbs attract other creatures lurking below, disturbing the surface as they drew near.

They were humanoid demons with three canine heads.

A chill ran down my spine. “Below! Beneath the water!” I cried.

A three-headed demon lunged for my leg. I drew my dagger, smeared it with viper blood, and drove it into the creature, killing it. Another circled behind me, but Lamia unsheathed her Joryu longsword and beheaded all three of its skulls at once. As the worm corpses hit the water, more of the demonic hounds emerged, attacking from above and below.

Tony and his men were set upon by the creatures. Despite their formidable guns, some were already wounded; moments later, another was dragged under and torn apart. Lamia and I were barely holding our own, powerless to help as we watched the others die.

We all understood we couldn’t risk ourselves for strangers—not now. If our ranks broke, we’d be bitten at the very least, and this filthy water likely teemed with deadly bacteria.

Suddenly, Solaise descended from above, her short black hair elongating to two meters, swirling and whipping about. In a dance of death, she slew or wounded the most ferocious of the hounds. Then, Scrapbell dropped in to assist, his arms like pythons, coiling and crushing the beasts. The bulk of the demon pack converged on them.

Lamia said, “You need to help them! I’ll manage here.” She jumped from my back before I could ask whether the filth bothered her, and with her divine sword, fired a volley, killing several hounds.

I charged toward Solaise, unleashing psychic blades to break her encirclement, then rushed to aid Scrapbell, helping him dispatch the demons surrounding him.

At that moment, Steelbind transformed yet again—into a fearsome bat. His wings unleashed blade-like gusts, annihilating most of the hounds and worms. Tony’s group was still searching for comrades dragged off by the beasts. I shouted, “They’re beyond saving! Get out of here!”

We sprinted the final, grueling twenty meters and climbed ashore. Aside from Steelbind, we all reeked so badly it was unbearable, though my own sense of smell felt utterly numb.

Steelbind landed far from us, reverting to his usual form. He betrayed no disdain in his expression, but I knew he was disgusted—his sense of smell was a hundred times sharper than ours. If I were in his place, I’d have fled already.

Several of Tony’s men were wounded; they soon began shivering and sweating, their faces waxen, wounds infected by the filthy water. Lamia wanted to administer healing injections, but I said, “It’s useless! Those can’t cure a chill.”

I pulled Scrapbell and Solaise aside. “They came here of their own will, understand? I order you: do not risk yourselves to save them again.”

Scrapbell said coldly, “I’m only here to save my fool of a sister.”

Solaise sighed, “I’m not sure what got into me either.”

Perhaps it was instinct—undead longing for human kindness, compelled to offer it in turn? But if kindness is met with malice, it breeds monsters like Kolov.

Softly I said, “Listen and remember—though you’re members of my squad, your own lives matter most. You are the most precious asset. No mission, no profit, no one’s life ranks above your safety. Am I clear?”

Solaise asked, “Precious asset?”

I shot her a glare. “Yes, I’m blunt. That’s how I talk.”

Solaise bowed her head with a small smile. “Thank you. That’s good to hear.”

Just then, Tony gave a despairing cry. He drew his dagger and slit the throat of a dying comrade. Tearfully he said, “I’m sorry, but you’ll be all right. You’ll be redeemed.” The survivors beside him patted his back in mourning, none blaming him.

Steelbind checked his watch. “Five hours until sunrise. Do you need rest?”

At dawn, we would lose Steelbind, our greatest force. “Nonsense, Commander—what is rest?” I retorted.

Just then, I spotted a faintly glowing sign: “Communications Hub,” with an arrow pointing ahead.

“Wait here for me,” I said.

Behind the hub’s door were two three-headed demon hounds, dispatched with a stroke of Mjolnir. Above were cable ducts, below rows of rectangular cabinets—though all without power. I recognized the power switches and flipped each one on, then went to the main console and pressed the master switch.

In a second, indicator lights illuminated the whole room. I waited for the sleeping goddess to be awakened by this light.

Faga’s voice came through the intercom: “You did it, Mr. Fishbone.”

Not the most socially adept—she should have greeted Steelbind first, then me, or things would get awkward.

Steelbind said, “Hello, Faga.”

See? He jumped to respond, clearly displeased. Faga, you don’t understand the courtly intrigues here—one wrong word and you’re dead. Last century, people would fight tooth and nail just to stand in the middle for a photograph.

Faga said, “Marquis Steelbind, what are your orders?”

Steelbind asked, “Do you now know the layout of this building?”

Faga replied, “I do.”

Steelbind asked, “Is there a usable bath nearby? I’d like my friends to recover.”

Faga said, “There’s a reservoir ahead, a former artificial hot spring, with laundry and drying facilities. I’ve checked the readings—it should meet your needs.”

Steelbind nodded. “That will do.”

On the upper floor, Steelbind slaughtered the converging demon hounds, scattering them with unstoppable force. Watching him, I wondered: do we really smell that bad?

He hurried us along to the bath that Faga had mentioned. She had restored the power, and the pool was filled with hot water.

“You’re lucky—the water here is still clean,” Faga said.

“I don’t require bathing. Please use it quickly,” said Steelbind.

Lamia, a fellow neat freak, was overjoyed—more than on our own wedding day, it seemed. She grabbed Solaise and dashed into the women’s side.

I thought it only right to bathe with my wife, but Scrapbell blocked my way. “I just want to protect them! What if there’s danger?” I protested.

“My lady and my sister can look after themselves,” Scrapbell replied firmly.

Softly, I said, “Foolish subordinate, you know nothing of human treachery.”

Scrapbell blinked. “Human treachery? Whose?”

“Steelbind’s,” I answered.

“What about him?” Scrapbell asked.

“I think he wants to peep at the other side. Why else would he go to such lengths? If he were truly in a hurry, would he let us idle here?”

Scrapbell looked puzzled. “The Marquis doesn’t strike me as the frivolous sort.”

“You can never truly know a person—you’re too naive, being undead,” I insisted.

“But even if he did peek, what’s the harm?” Scrapbell said.

“It’s a matter of principle! No one but me can look at my wife’s body. So, I have to go over, play guardian—even if Steelbind flies into a rage and kills me, I’ll die unyielding, blood staining the ground,” I declared.

“But then you’d see my sister,” Scrapbell pointed out.

Calmly, I smiled. “You think I want that? No, I’m an upright man. Such sights—no, such pollution offends my eyes. But for the sake of my iron principle, I’ll make that noble sacrifice.”

Scrapbell gestured toward a distant screen. I saw Steelbind’s shadow seated there. “But...the Marquis has been sitting there the whole time,” he said.

Indignant, I exclaimed, “He must be using some illusion to peep! A vile, cunning fellow...”

Steelbind rapped the screen. “It’s not an illusion. I can hear everything you’re saying.”

My soul nearly fled my body; I shrank into a corner of the bath. “I was completely mistaken!” I cried.

“Mistaken?” Scrapbell inquired.

I stammered in terror, “He...he wasn’t peeping at their side—he was peeping at ours!”

Such a nefarious, unfathomable man—his schemes always beyond my imagination.

“If he wanted to look, he’d just come in and bathe. Why wait outside?” Scrapbell reasoned.

I was silent for a long moment. “You don’t understand the peculiar pleasures of peeping. That’s exactly his kind of enjoyment.”

“How do you know peeping is pleasurable?” Scrapbell asked.

I broke into a nervous sweat, unable to answer—though by now, it was impossible to tell sweat from bathwater.

“If you’re finished with your nonsense, hurry up and get out. We don’t have much time,” Steelbind called.

Inwardly, I cursed my luck. “Scrapbell, I’ve uncovered Steelbind’s secret. He’ll kill me to silence me. When that time comes, you must swear to protect me.”

“You told us to value our lives above all else, didn’t you?” Scrapbell countered.

“You fool! Have you never heard of adapting to the situation?” I retorted.

For the first time, a smile appeared on Scrapbell’s usually grim face. “Commander, you’re quite a ridiculous man.”

He ignored me, fetched his dried light armor from the dryer, and walked out.

I followed, trembling, outside. Steelbind glanced at me as if nothing had happened.

His gaze was deep, but my even deeper wit gleaned much from it.

It was written all over: man-eater.