Chương 254: Chapter 253 - Pure Numbness

Lucid squeezed his hands around the woman's throat with every ounce of remaining vitality. His muscles burned. The woman choked, her eyes bulging as the pressure mounted. The stone beneath them, already fractured by their struggle, began to spider-web with deep fissures. The environment groaned under the physical strain. Lucid experienced a sudden, violent tunnel vision. The world around the chamber dimmed to a singular, narrow point of focus on her face. He tightened his grip further around her throat.

He stared directly at her pale features, tracing the smooth lines of her skin with his eyes as his thumbs pressed deeply into her windpipe. This vile wretch was the exact entity who had kidnapped Ayame. This was the same remorseless creature responsible for disposing of innocent people in the dark river currents above. The sheer weight of that realization fueled his physical resolve. He wanted to break her.

Her facial features suddenly blurred in his vision, shifting briefly and reminding him of a noblewoman with blonde hair from his buried past. The comparison to Ivy ignited his anger to an unbearable, absolute heat. He squeezed harder, determined to end the cycle of abuse right then and there. Suddenly, a violent eruption of flesh broke the stalemate. A thick, jagged limb tore directly out of the woman's own abdomen. The appendage did not stop or hesitate.

It drove forward with unnatural velocity, piercing straight through the space between them and entering Lucid's stomach. The fleshy spike tore through his muscle and pinned him flush against her ruined body. The sheer traumatic shock forced a massive pool of dark blood up his throat. He threw up the thick, metallic liquid, spilling it over her chin and robes. The woman did not recoil in disgust. Instead, she gladly opened her mouth and caught the warm blood on her tongue.

She gulped the fluid down her throat with genuine pleasure and smiled with a horrifying, red-stained radiance.

"Ah, the blood of our leading lamb is so delicious," she whispered. Her voice bubbled wetly with his own stolen vitality. Lucid lost all physical leverage. He fell hard to his right side, his body hitting the cold stone floor of the gothic chamber. He began convulsing uncontrollably as his nervous system overloaded. The jagged limb retreated back into her body, but the violent withdrawal ripped his internal organs out of his abdominal cavity in the process.

He lay there on his side, his intestines fully exposed and bleeding out onto the damp masonry. He was well accustomed to enduring severe physical pain, but the parameters of this specific domain were completely different. He reached inward for his divine contractor. He expected the familiar surge of green light and the arrogant, healing warmth of Alice to mend his torn flesh. He found only a suffocating static. For some inexplicable reason, in this deeply corrupted place, the woman could block Alice.

At the very least, Alice possessed significantly less influence within the domain he found himself inside.

'Alice,' Lucid called out in his mind. His internal voice sounded weak and fragmented. He was not healing. He was simply bleeding out onto the stones. The agonizing sensation of his life draining away on a cold floor triggered a buried trauma. It reminded him terribly of his iterated lives. He remembered facing Ivy in a different timeline. He remembered collaborating with her, trusting her judgment, only for her to drive a blade deep into his back.

He remembered watching her cold, indifferent face as he bled out onto a very similar stone floor, choking on his own blood.. He caught the faintest movement out of the corner of his darkening eyes. One second went by. He felt a sickening, rhythmic pressure in the exact area where he had been impaled. He shifted his heavy head downward, fighting the encroaching darkness. He was being actively gutted. The very same bitch he had just tried to kill was kneeling over his paralyzed body.

She was sucking on his exposed organs, pulling his raw flesh into her mouth with ravenous hunger. The wet, tearing sounds echoed clearly in the quiet chamber. The sight made him violently nauseous. His vision swam with a mixture of bile and extreme blood loss. Suddenly, a massive shift in the surrounding biomass occurred. Another form composed of raw intestines, twisted muscle, and dark purple organs formed directly behind the feeding woman.

The fleshy mass grew rapidly, extending upward until it morphed into a giant, hardened appendage shaped exactly like a farmer's sickle. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The bone sickle swung downward with terrifying speed. It cut the head off the feeding woman in a single, clean motion. Her severed head rolled across the floor, her mouth still smeared with his blood.

The mass of organs shifted again, solidifying completely into the shape of the very same woman. It was the exact same woman, reborn from her own intestines. She looked down at the decapitated body of her clone with mild disgust. She wrapped her arms around her own shoulders, holding herself in a twisted display of warmth and comfort.

"You cannot harm the lamb," she said in a sickly, devoted tone.

"He is sacred to our mother from below." The sheer absurdity of the situation broke something fundamental inside Lucid. The fear vanished entirely. It was replaced by an absolute, irrational spite that defied all medical logic. Then, suddenly, Lucid stood up. His physical body ignored the catastrophic damage. His guts literally spilled toward the ground, dragging wetly against the cold stone floor beneath him. A thick, deep red mist pooled beneath his eyes, burning with unnatural fury.

He fixated his gaze entirely on the newly formed woman. He reached down and grabbed the broken iron chandelier from the floor. He ignored the burning pain and the fatal blood loss. He charged recklessly at her, gripping the heavy metal pole with both hands. The attack was entirely futile. He lacked the balance and the physical strength to execute a proper, lethal strike. His legs gave out midway through the charge. He ended up collapsing forward, landing heavily on top of her soft body.

His head wedged just under her chin. He flailed his arms weakly, unable to raise the heavy iron weapon high enough to strike. He threw up more dark blood, soaking the front of her pristine purple robes. It was a pitiful sight. He was a dying man trying to bludgeon an immortal monster with failing limbs. His mind grew increasingly hazy, slipping further from consciousness by the minute as his blood pooled around them. One second went by.

He held the thick iron pole of the chandelier with trembling hands, digging his fingers into the cold metal. He forced his lungs to draw in a shallow, rattling breath. Two seconds went by. He lifted his upper body away from her chest, sitting astride her waist and forcing himself to sit upright. He looked down into her wide, purple eyes. He refused to die on his back. Three seconds went by. She did not fight back. She did not attempt to throw him off or summon another tentacle.

Instead, she reached up with a soft, pale hand and cupped his bloodstained chin gently. Her expression held absolute, terrifying adoration for the broken man sitting above her. He plunged the sharp, broken iron base of the chandelier straight down. With a final, explosive surge of strength, he drove the metal forward. He heard the thick bone in her neck snap with a loud, echoing crack. The physical impact triggered a catastrophic chain reaction within the entire domain.

The ancient stone floor beneath them shattered instantly into jagged, floating shards. The entire physical reality of the gothic chamber destabilized and collapsed into a swirling, dark void. Gravity failed, and the architecture dissolved into purple mist. A final, chilling whisper brushed against his ear as the physical world completely dissolved around him.

"I. Will. Have. You." The voice multiplied, echoing from a thousand different directions within the endless dark abyss.

"We. Will. Have. You."

Lucid woke gasping for air. He lay submerged in shallow, shimmering golden liquid. The dampness of the subterranean abyss clung to his clothes. Beside him knelt a small girl. She was the same child he had encountered near the rift earlier. She watched him with quiet, expectant eyes. He released a long, shaky breath. Gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes. He sat on the golden puddle for a moment visibly shaken. Suddenly, Alice screamed inside his mind. The force of her voice vibrated through his very teeth.

"You dare go against my exact wishes and allow yourself to be taken advantage by that women! You have befouled yourself. You tarnish the very image I have cultivated for you!" This was the first time he had ever heard her sound genuinely disgusted and furious. Beneath the rage, he detected something else — a sharp, stinging edge of jealousy. Lucid shook his head to clear the ringing. He replayed the memory of the purple hooded figures and the monstrous appendage that had forced its way down his throat.

He leaned over and threw up the remnants of what he had consumed since leaving the tavern. The memory of that chamber remained vivid. The sight of those clones crawling over their own kin like scavengers was not meant for the faint of heart. He knew he would require years of recovery after witnessing such a display. A thick green glow enveloped his body. Alice's presence shifted from rage to a cold, possessive concern.

"You are losing your mind. No human should endure what transpired inside that creature's domain.

"I am not sure quite sure what went down but..."

"I forgive you, and I shall heal you." Lucid managed a faint, weary nod. His gaze drifted to where the woman on the stake had stood. There was nothing. It was as though the hooded figures and the violet pyre had never existed. Only the silent square of the ancient, forgotten marble town remained. He pushed himself onto his knees. A small girl stood waiting a short distance away. Without a word, she turned and began to walk. Lucid rose and followed. He stayed close, quietly observing her.

Leaning forward slightly, he spoke in a low voice.

"Senna?" Alice's voice surfaced from the depths of his mind.

"I do not trust this child," she said.

"Stay away from her." Lucid merely looked down at the girl. After a long moment of careful consideration, he slowly extended his hand toward her.

"Go on," he said.

"Lead me to this supposed Father of Commerce." She took his hand. And they kept walking, passing narrow hallways, ruined storefronts, and empty plazas. He kept his eyes moving, scanning the architecture of this lost city. The girl led him through the maze of stone, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble. They arrived at the center of a wide, circular courtyard. The girl stopped suddenly and pointed toward the ground.

Embedded in the center of the floor was a massive, circular seal made of pulsating, violet-tinted lead. It sat flush against the marble, covered in strange, flowing inscriptions that seemed to breathe.

"Look," the girl whispered.