Chương 138: Those Were Definitely Not Demi-Humans

Several hours after leaving the ruined military post, Ronan and Sieghart reached the new practical border, though no wall, sign, or official marker announced where human territory actually ended. The only indication was how completely the road changed. Human paving disappeared beneath weeds and mud, while crude wooden markers decorated with bones appeared between trees along the northern hills.

Ronan stopped before the first marker and crouched beside the road, checking tracks while Sieghart examined the surrounding forest through Enhanced Smell and ordinary sight. Beyond the hill ahead stood something far larger than an abandoned village. Broken stone towers rose above the trees, surrounded by smoke from dozens of fires. Sieghart climbed partway up a rocky slope beside Ronan, then finally gained a clear view of the fortress that had once guarded the region. The structure had been impressive once.

Thick stone walls surrounded a broad compound, while several towers overlooked the valleys and controlled the main northern road. Now almost half the fortress was destroyed. One tower had collapsed completely, several wall sections were missing, and the main gate existed only as twisted metal beneath broken masonry. Curiously, the Chimerians had made little effort to repair those defenses. They occupied the fortress, but they apparently considered human walls unnecessary for their protection.

Instead, tents, cages, rough wooden structures, and strange organic-looking shelters spread beyond the damaged walls, extending into areas that should have remained exposed to attackers. Sieghart initially found that arrogant. Then he saw the inhabitants properly. His previous imagination had been completely wrong. When Ronan described people incorporating monster and animal traits, Sieghart had imagined something resembling demi-humans from fantasy stories in his previous life. Maybe someone with wolf ears.

Perhaps claws. Possibly scales, horns, tails, or other features attached to an otherwise recognizable human body. Those things would have been strange. The Chimerians were not strange. They were wrong. One enormous figure crossed the ruined courtyard using four powerful equine legs attached beneath what remained of a heavily muscled human torso. The transition between bodies was not clean.

Thick stitches formed a circular scar around the waist, while different skin tones met unevenly beneath strips of reinforced leather. Another Chimerian stood on a broken tower with enormous feathered wings replacing both arms entirely, leaving no visible hands anywhere on the body. The creature used clawed feet to manipulate a spear, balancing effortlessly while folded wings shifted around its shoulders whenever the wind changed.

"What the fuck…" Several others possessed more subtle alterations that somehow looked even worse. Their torsos contained patches of flesh with completely different colors, textures, and thicknesses. One warrior's chest looked human on one side, scaled across the other, and covered by coarse black fur around the abdomen. Hundreds of thick stitch marks connected every section.

Another Chimerian possessed three arms, though the additional limb emerged too low beneath the ribs and appeared slightly smaller than the others. The creature casually sharpened two swords simultaneously while using the third hand to eat something from a bloody wooden bowl. Sieghart watched silently. A group passed beside the broken gate carrying crates between them. One had goat-like legs, another possessed an elongated reptilian neck, and the third had six visible eyes. None behaved like mindless monsters.

They talked. They laughed. They argued over the crates. One slapped another across the back before receiving an irritated shove that nearly sent both into a drainage ditch. That normal behavior made their appearance more unsettling rather than less. Whatever procedures created their bodies had apparently left enough humanity behind for ordinary social interaction. Sieghart noticed children as well. That was even stranger.

Some looked almost completely human except for unusual eyes or patches of scales, while others already possessed tails, horns, claws, or strangely proportioned limbs. Those children had apparently inherited modifications established generations earlier rather than receiving every alteration through surgery after birth. Ronan had been right. Some changes had become bloodlines. Sieghart looked toward another group leaving one of the fortress buildings.

Their bodies appeared so heavily modified that identifying the original species became almost impossible. One walked upon six insect-like legs beneath a broad human chest. Another possessed thick armored plates instead of skin across the entire upper body. A third had replaced most of its lower face with something resembling the jaw of a predatory reptile, complete with teeth too large for human cheeks.

"That is disgusting." Ronan glanced toward him.

"Quiet." Sieghart lowered his voice further.

"I expected something else..."

"I noticed." Sieghart watched another figure pass through the ruined gateway while carrying an enormous hammer across shoulders covered with mismatched patches of green, gray, and pale flesh.

"They look like freaks that escaped some laboratory."

"That's closer." Ronan did not sound amused. Sieghart continued studying the fortress while trying to understand how anyone survived enough modifications to reach the appearances below. Some bodies contained obvious surgical seams, but others looked almost naturally integrated, suggesting different generations and varying levels of successful adaptation. The heavily modified adults moved comfortably despite impossible anatomy.

Horse-bodied warriors turned corners smoothly, wing-armed scouts balanced without difficulty, and multi-limbed workers coordinated their hands better than ordinary humans. Whatever drugs and spells the Chimerians used did more than keep grafts alive. They rewrote how the body understood itself. Sieghart found that fascinating. That bothered him. Ronan shifted slightly beside him.

"Can you smell anything unusual?" Sieghart strengthened Enhanced Smell carefully and immediately regretted the decision when several hundred different biological signatures crashed into his senses simultaneously. Blood. Animal musk. Medicinal chemicals. Rotting flesh. Smoke. Sweat. Wet fur. Reptilian oils. Strange flowers. And countless odors Sieghart possessed absolutely no biological reference for. He reduced the spell before his brain decided vomiting would simplify the problem.

"No." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Ronan raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing?"

"The opposite." Sieghart rubbed his nose.

"Their smell is everywhere. I can't separate individuals from this distance." He inhaled again at lower strength and focused upon the heavier odors drifting from deeper inside the ruined fortress.

"There's also a lot of death." Ronan's expression hardened slightly.

"How much?"

"Enough that it isn't someone cooking dinner." Ronan watched the fortress for several seconds before pointing toward several low stone buildings near the collapsed eastern wall.

"Failed procedures." Sieghart looked toward them.

"They keep the bodies there?"

"Usually." Ronan explained that unsuccessful grafting produced enormous amounts of biological waste, especially when incompatible organs died faster than patients receiving them. Some failures were buried. Some were burned. Others were dismantled because individual organs remained valuable even after the subject itself became impossible to save. Sieghart remained silent for several seconds.

"Charming culture."

"It gets worse." Ronan estimated several hundred Chimerians currently occupied the former fortress, though many probably belonged to families rather than active combat groups. That distinction did not make fighting them attractive. Civilians here could possess claws, venom, reinforced muscles, predator senses, or inherited monster organs without military training.

Ronan slowly moved backward from the ridge, keeping his body beneath the highest stones so nobody inside the fortress could notice a human silhouette against the sky.

"We don't fight these people."

"I wasn't planning to." Sieghart followed him down the slope until thick bushes concealed the fortress again, though Enhanced Smell continued detecting its unpleasant mixture whenever the wind shifted. Ronan removed a folded map and marked the fortress carefully, then pointed toward a route passing several kilometers west before continuing northward.

"Mira's trail goes around them."

"So we do the same."

"Exactly." Ronan folded the map again.

"We alert this fortress, nearby settlements start looking for us too." Sieghart understood immediately. Killing several guards might be manageable, but hundreds of Chimerians spreading warnings across enemy territory could make stealth impossible afterward. Even worse, different scouts might possess completely different tracking abilities. Defeating eyesight meant nothing if another Chimerian could follow scent, heat, vibration, or magical residue. Ronan glanced toward Sieghart.

"Can you make us invisible?" Sieghart considered the request.

"Transparent?"

"Close enough."

"I can distort what people see around us." Ronan nodded.

"That works." Sieghart raised one finger.

"You need to stay within five meters."

"That's more than enough." Sieghart activated Phantom Image differently from his usual disguise, spreading the illusion outward until it covered Ronan as well as himself. Instead of creating false bodies, Sieghart copied the surrounding colors, shadows, branches, stones, and patches of sky across their visible surfaces. The effect was imperfect. Anyone looking closely would notice distortions whenever they moved, especially where their bodies bent the copied background around shoulders and limbs.

From a distance, however, they resembled shifting pieces of scenery rather than two people crossing through enemy territory. Ronan lifted one arm and watched the forest behind it appear across his sleeve, though the copied branches warped slightly whenever his elbow moved.

"Useful."

"Don't move too fast."

"Why?"

"You'll look like a transparent idiot." They began circling west around the fortress, remaining beneath tree cover while Sieghart maintained the illusion and Ronan selected paths avoiding open ground. Keeping both bodies hidden required considerably more concentration than disguising himself alone, especially whenever branches, shadows, and moving leaves changed behind them.

Sieghart constantly updated the reflected surroundings across their bodies, allowing the illusion to shift smoothly instead of leaving obvious patches belonging several meters behind. The technique still failed occasionally around their feet, where crushed grass and disturbed mud revealed movement even when their bodies remained difficult to see. Ronan compensated by choosing rocky ground whenever possible, stepping upon exposed roots and stones rather than leaving clear human tracks behind.

They passed within several hundred meters of the ruined fortress without anyone raising an alarm, although Sieghart spotted winged scouts circling above the towers. One possessed enormous bat-like wings growing from its back while retaining normal arms, unlike the earlier Chimerian whose wings replaced them completely. Another flew using translucent insect wings vibrating rapidly behind its shoulders, forcing Sieghart to wonder how much magical reinforcement prevented those structures from tearing apart.

The variety made predicting them impossible. Sieghart hated that tactically. He loved it academically. Every altered body represented a different solution to biological limitations, even if those solutions were developed through methods Sieghart considered horrifying. Then another thought appeared. What would happen if he absorbed one of their cores? Sieghart immediately disliked how naturally the question entered his mind. Ordinary corrupted orcs had granted reinforcement progress.

The Orc King had given him Sin Magic and Fury. The unfinished guardian had unlocked Necromancy. Chimerians deliberately combined monster organs, altered bloodlines, corrupted cores, drugs, and magical adaptation inside single bodies. Their cores might contain anything. Flight. Regeneration. Venom. Natural armor. Enhanced senses. Multiple limbs. Adaptive resistance. Perhaps the System could interpret those biological traits as entirely new magical branches. Sieghart's curiosity intensified before he could stop it.

That was dangerous. Ronan was standing three meters away. Collecting a Chimerian core secretly would already be difficult, especially when their goal required leaving as little evidence behind as possible. Absorbing one would be worse. Sieghart had no idea whether the resulting changes would remain entirely internal or produce another emotional effect strong enough for Ronan to notice immediately. Mira would be even more troublesome.

If Sieghart arrived in front of her several hours after absorbing some unknown Chimerian power, she would probably notice something different before he finished saying hello. She had already detected that something changed after the Orc King, even without knowing exactly what Wrath had added to his System. Sieghart glanced toward the distant fortress through the trees. One isolated Chimerian scout would be enough. Kill it quietly. Take the core. Absorb it. See what happened. The plan formed disturbingly easily.

Sieghart clenched one hand. No. This was a rescue mission. Turning every corrupted enemy into potential progression material was exactly how someone started making decisions for power instead of necessity. That distinction mattered. Probably. Sieghart was beginning to understand why Mira ordered corrupted cores destroyed immediately instead of allowing young mages to experiment with them. The danger was not only whatever power existed inside. The reward itself changed decisions.

Knowing that every corrupted creature might contain experience, spells, parameters, or entirely new magic made avoiding unnecessary fights increasingly difficult. Sieghart looked toward Ronan. The agent was studying tracks and had not noticed anything unusual. Sieghart returned his attention forward and strengthened Phantom Image around both of them as the forest became denser. He could remain curious without acting. Curiosity was not corruption.

Wanting answers did not mean taking every opportunity regardless of consequences. Still, Sieghart could not completely stop wondering what kind of notification would appear if one of those stitched-together bodies became dust inside his hand. The thought followed him as they left the fortress behind. Sieghart knew he should not want to test it. Unfortunately, knowing that and actually losing interest were completely different things.

He was walking an increasingly thin line between studying corruption because he needed to understand it and hunting corruption because the System rewarded him. For now, Sieghart remained on the side he considered acceptable. He simply hoped nobody nearby gave him an unusually tempting reason to cross it.