Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The Jomesdin Manor, far from the Arkham city center, still maintained its last-century décor, blending with Arkham's Gothic tone. The main villa of the estate, in its elegant and tranquil black interior, was a testament to this style.

This was the gravestone meticulously chosen by Joel for the guests present. As the coffin lid closed, bloodshed and slaughter naturally ensued, with the stench of death sweeping through.

Amos stood in the most inconspicuous shadow on the second floor, peering through the solid wood balustrade, savoring the drama he had orchestrated.

"Plantain, cudweed, mustard flower, Arab madwort..." he scrutinized the attendees with a critical eye, "All just boring wildflowers and weeds."

Only that Clarence seemed somewhat interesting, but he didn't like the fragrance of untimely blossoms.

Finally, Amos's gaze settled on the only person in the room he couldn't see through.

Lan.

His appearance was mesmerizing to everyone present, Amos included. He admired Lan's exceptionally striking looks but was even more eager to discern his soul.

What kind of flower would his soul be?

……

The butterfly specimen came to life.

Initially, it was a mere flutter of wings, then the entire butterfly began to beat its wings, turning the glass enclosure into fine sand with its delicate touch. Now unrestrained, the butterfly fluttered freely around the hall.

Only the players and Lan understood that this was not a beautiful and fragile life form.

A Grade Anomaly, a being that even fully-armed players with mastery of spells could only avoid in the later stages of the game.

It was a creature that should not appear in this 'beginner's level'; in gamer terms, it was a plot-driven, insurmountable obstacle. In a previous life, the final phase of this mission was similar. The task of investigating the origins of the Soul-Devouring Butterfly specimen, rather than preventing its hatching, was because the players were simply incapable of stopping it. The mission's conclusion was the butterfly's revival and departure.

Even with just one Soul-Devouring Butterfly, its intimidation might not be as strong as a swarm, but its attack power was still at least B+ grade, making it a formidable opponent for anyone present.

After the resurrection of the butterfly specimen, it needed to continue consuming life force and souls, leading Lan to wonder if this was the final blow of the trap.

Indeed, after the butterfly revived, it fluttered its wings and flew towards Lan. Edmund, about to swing his knife, was stopped by Lan.

"Hold on, leave it be."

Lan knew that even if Edmund could handle ghouls, facing the Soul-Devouring Butterfly would be futile, so he prevented Edmund from taking a futile stand and stepped forward with a sigh.

The butterfly landed on his shoulder, its antennae moving as if sensing something.

Lan braced himself to be drained of life, ready to become a corpse at any moment, but then... nothing happened.

The Soul-Devouring Butterfly made no further move, as if it had made itself at home on Lan, pretending to be a mere decoration, perched motionlessly on his shoulder.

Lan: ?

Edmund seemed not at all surprised, gazing at Lan with shining eyes: "As expected of my lord."

In his view, Lan had anticipated this scene, possessing a method to subdue the Soul-Devouring Butterfly, hence why he had stopped him earlier.

"It's only natural for my lord to tame the infamous Soul-Devouring Butterfly."

Lan opened his mouth, but eventually closed it, squeezing out a muffled, "Hmm."

Had he really tamed it?

Lan glanced at the butterfly perched on his shoulder, which moved its antennae and drew a little closer.

Was it moved?

He dared not move!

Lan: ...There was an uncanny sense of having an ancestor-like presence.

He remembered it was the same in the hospital: the red-haired nurse by day, the spider-woman anomaly by night, and the ghoul in the next room, all seemed... what's the word? Obsessed with him?

Of course, this obsession didn't stop them from trying to kill him, even making them more determined, with a murderous intent beyond human comprehension.

On reflection, it seemed that this bizarre attraction to anomalies had vanished after leaving the hospital. The street anomalies wouldn't act strangely unless he stared at them, and they didn't block his door or claim to like him as the hospital anomalies did.

He had thought the hospital's anomalies were due to it being a special instance, transferring the daytime affection of people to the night.

But now it seemed that was not the case?

But why did he have such a physique? Why were anomalies' attitudes towards him so strange? And come to think of it, do anomalies really experience emotions like affection? Do they truly become infatuated with humans?

A string of questions surfaced in his mind, and Lan couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

The only other two conscious individuals, Edmund and Clarence, seeing Lan deep in thought, maintained their silence.

In their eyes, Lan was undoubtedly contemplating the trap's mastermind. This was clearly a setup, but considering the great lengths the orchestrator had gone to, the target couldn't be any other organization present. The only one of value there was Lan himself.

They might have been entangled in a conspiracy far deeper and darker.

"Is it all over now, Lord Lan?" Clarence asked with increased respect and humility, his voice unavoidably weak.

Lan, coming back to his senses, glanced at him: "You're still awake, huh?"

This was unexpected. All the ordinary people present had fainted due to the drain of their life force. It was understandable for Edmund to be unaffected, given his ability to tear ghouls apart with his bare hands, but surprisingly, Clarence seemed fine too, except for a few more white hairs.

"Yes..."

Lan averted his gaze, looking at the people sprawled unconscious on the floor: "Whether it's all over is not for us to decide."

At this point, if Lan couldn't see that he had been played, then all his years of experience would have been for naught.

In this trap set against him, the butterfly specimen was supposed to be the final strike, but for some unknown reason, the Soul-Devouring Butterfly posed no threat to him now.

So, what about the person behind the scenes?

Would they give up, lie low, and wait for another opportunity? Or...

Just then, Lan sharply caught a whisper.

The voice, as if right next to his ear, murmured phrases both strange and familiar to Lan.

"Do you hear that?"

Edmund and Clarence looked puzzled, listening intently, but they heard nothing. Following the direction of the voice, Lan saw a figure in the shadows on the second floor of the banquet hall.

When did he get there?

Sensing that he had been discovered, the murmuring voice quickened.

The bodies around them, stirred.

To the astonishment of the three, the people killed by the ghouls started to move. Scattered organs and limbs wriggled on the ground like decapitated eels, hair began to fall out, and clothes dissolved in the oozing black fluid. The first reanimated corpse opened its eyes.

Then came the second, the third...

All the deceased in the area were transformed into ghouls under the spell. Clarence felt a chill from his feet to his heart and involuntarily looked at Lann.

With such a number, even the disciples who had just dealt with two ghouls seemed inadequate. The only one capable of breaking through this deadlock was Lann.

But would he take action?

Lann himself felt a chill, recognizing the spell as one of the black magic forbidden arts, the Raising Dead technique, capable of instantly summoning numerous Class D anomaly ghouls from the dead.

But how could it appear here?! Wizards capable of using such high-level magic were few and far between, even in the later stages of the game, and those few were well-known villains on player forums.

Who could be here at this time?

“Lord Lann…” Clarence unconsciously moved closer to Lann, like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline.

Faced with the predicament, Lann surprisingly relaxed his expression, even letting out a light laugh.

“Perfect.”

Perfect? Perfect for what?

Clarence's face showed utter confusion, and Amos, closely observing Lann from the second floor, also noticed something odd. He abruptly looked up towards the manor's exterior.

The ghouls guarding outside had been taken down.

At that moment, the sound of noisy footsteps arose, prompting Clarence to look outside the house.

He saw a group of excited people rushing towards them, with the leader shouting, “Finally, some monsters to fight!”

Clarence: ???

Lann, showing more wit, pulled Clarence aside as the players charged in. As for Edmund, he was already eager to engage in combat with the ghouls.

Upon seeing this, the player became even more anxious!

"Damn, this game is all about investigation, reasoning, and more investigation, with hardly any monster fighting. Some players are so bored they're counting ants. And now they're supposed to let an NPC steal their chance?!"

They didn't care anymore and fiercely attacked any ghoul they found, relying on the fact that they couldn't really die. Worst case, they'd just switch character cards and adopt a strategy of trading blows.

To onlookers, this appeared exceptionally brave.

Take Calrence, for instance, who was dumbfounded by the sight, especially when he saw the players desperately preventing the ghouls from getting near Edmund and Lann (to stop NPCs from stealing kills) and became utterly convinced of the players' fanatical devotion.

Although these people weren't as strong as Edmund, their devotion was genuine!

And unlike the unprepared Nyx and others before, these players came fully equipped with pistols, bombs, shields, and more.

How did they get this equipment? They were rewarded by Calrence when they accepted his missions. It's hard for normal people to get weapons, but not for gangs, especially since the Black Poker gang deals in such matters.

Consequently, with the players outnumbering the ghouls, the situation gradually became one-sided.

Alon also emerged from under the table, excitedly charging the nearest ghoul with a brick he found somewhere.

The live chat also got excited.

["Ah, slow down, I haven't gotten there yet!"]

["The fight's started, haha, I've missed this feeling of battling monsters!"]

["Is the host trying to kill me with laughter with that turtle fist?"]

["Damn, this game actually has a combat system. Okay, I won't call it a niche game anymore, it’s pretty mainstream (laughs)"]

In combat, players could turn off dice mode and fight monsters manually like in other holographic games, though untrained people wouldn't be good at it initially. Alon, after missing with his brick, was embarrassingly kicked away by a ghoul and angrily switched to dice mode.

["Brawl: Great Success"]

Alon was ecstatic and felt his body move naturally, suddenly leaping and clinging onto the ghoul, entangled by other players, twisting his arm and body in one fluid motion.

["Strength Contest: Success"]

With fluid and stylish moves, he deftly decapitated the ghoul.

The nearby players were dumbstruck, looking at Alon holding a head in his arms: "Dude, you're incredible, a hidden master?"

Alon humbly replied, "It's just a trifle, nothing much."

Remembering he was live streaming, he confidently addressed the chat: "So, what do you think? Was that worth a 6?"

【ohhhhhhh！】

【66666666】

["6 for sure, host! The mechanics of this game are really cool (thumbs up)"]

["Hahaha, a great success, I could do that too!"]

["Try turning off the dice mode (dog head)"]

The players' combat mode profoundly shocked Calrence. In the late stages of the fight, casualties were inevitable; some even witnessed their comrades torn apart right before their eyes, yet no one retreated. They fought fearlessly, stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades if necessary, just to tear a piece off the ghouls.

Black Cat and the Druid were more cunning. They followed Edmund closely, seizing opportunities to land several killing blows, rapidly increasing their experience and brawl proficiency, grinning from ear to ear.

It was a pitiable sight. Normally in the game, players couldn't level up by fighting monsters and had to rely on completing tasks to gain experience. But as anyone familiar with group quests knows, a task could take a day or even several days to complete, so leveling up wasn't easy.

Of course, besides quests, there were other activities like medical treatment and investigation that could also earn experience, but how could that compare to the thrilling sensation of leveling up through combat?

The players, having been restrained for so long, seized the opportunity of a time-limited dungeon to level up, attacking with ferocious intensity.

Standing on the second floor, Amos had a clearer view than those below.

He witnessed a person, half-eaten by a ghoul, still baring his teeth in defiance, urging those nearby to shoot at him, determined to drag the ghoul down with him in death.

Such fanaticism was rare, even in the many cults and secret societies he had encountered.

To gather so many fervent followers in such a short time…

Amos, standing in the shadows of the second floor, mused leisurely, finding it a challenging task set by the cult leader.

Amos was certain that Lann was the target the cult leader sought.

The makeshift ghouls he had summoned were unlikely to last much longer.

It was a pity. He had hoped to push Lann to his limits to see him act, so Amos could use his 'Soul's Eye' ability to better chance a glimpse of Lann's soul's flower.

Moreover, he was curious whether gods had 'Soul's Flowers', and what they might look like.

Would they be more beautiful than those of humans, or possess more unimaginable transformations? Amos was quite curious, as encounters with deities in the outer world were exceedingly rare, and in his many years, he had only encountered this one.

But now, it seemed he had failed.

However, his mission of probing had been accomplished. Since there had been no intervention for so long, it appeared that the mysterious entity was indeed restrained.

Amos wanted to probe further, but regrettably, the cult leader had given him strict orders not to draw too much attention.

After a moment of hesitation, Amos sighed deeply and prepared to retreat.

He was very curious about Lann's soul, but he couldn't afford to clash with the cult leader he had nurtured for so long, especially not at the brink of harvest.

Regrettably, just as Amos was about to use a spatial teleportation spell, Lann seemed to sense the hidden hand behind the scenes attempting to flee and cast a glance in his direction.

Calrence also looked towards the direction of Lann's gaze, and as if it were a silent signal, the players constantly monitoring Lann's movements turned their attention there too.

Finally, someone noticed the figure in the corner of the second floor and excitedly shouted, "The boss is up there!"

At this declaration, the players instantly became exhilarated, employing various ingenious methods to ascend to the second floor.

Amos, clad in a black cloak and hood, smiled, interrupted his spatial spell, and began to chant another incantation.

A black swamp appeared beneath the approaching players, and the corrosive liquid rapidly drained their health. They were immobilized as if trapped in a real swamp.

"Damn! What is this?"

That wasn’t all. After dealing with the first group attempting to climb the stairs, Amos recited a bewitching spell, causing the players behind to suddenly change their direction of attack.

"Ow! Why are you hitting me?"

"Friendly fire! We're hitting our own!"

"This guy knows magic! Be careful, he might be a wizard!"

"Damn, a wizard in a beginner's level? How are we supposed to fight this?"

Lann's heart sank as well, realizing the players stood no chance against this man in black.

To be honest, the progression of this mission had already deviated from Lann's memory, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his presence.

In his previous life, this mission did involve a combat round, but the opponents were not ghouls. Instead, they were humans attracted by the Soul-Eating Butterflies. After the players fought these humans, the butterflies hatched, absorbed the humans' life force, and left.

But now, both ghouls and a wizard had appeared, elements typical of the game's later stages! Could this really work?

The players were immediately at a disadvantage, unable to even reach the second floor, dying in the swamp or by friendly fire.

Lann furrowed his brows.

Was he just supposed to watch the wizard slaughter the players?

Lann felt uncomfortably conflicted. Technically, he could just leave while the players were occupied with the ghouls and safely navigate through this crisis.

But he didn't. Perhaps it was because he had once been a player himself, or maybe because, in this life, he had been saved by players twice.

Though the players had caused him a fair share of trouble, they had also been continuously helping him.

Lann's gaze shifted to the man in black, contemplating a strategy to turn the tables.

At that moment, he noticed Edmund had disappeared, not in retreat, but silently appearing on the staircase at the other side.

A thought struck Lann: it was well-known that wizards, being stationary casters, were naturally countered by melee fighters like Edmund.

From his past life, Lann had extensive experience fighting against wizards and knew their weaknesses.

Unlike other games, "Fate's Gyre," as a game emphasizing the struggle of humans against malevolent deities, highlighted the insignificance of humans. Therefore, human character classes had lower ceilings, and wizards faced more restrictions on their spells, such as significant costs for casting certain spells, and as long as the wizard was human, their mana pool was limited and nearly impossible to cast spells simultaneously.

Lann remembered that in the new rules, the maximum human willpower was 90, with magic points being one-fifth of willpower, which meant a maximum of 18 MP (Magic Points).

The spells cast by the man in black earlier were swamp summoning and a bewitching charm, costing 3 MP and 2 MP respectively.

The resurrection spell requires 5 MP and a fresh corpse nearby, with a casting time of 30 minutes, meaning this spell couldn't be used a second time.

That leaves a maximum of 8 MP, allowing for three to four more spell casts.

Lann's heart raced as he intently watched the players who charged forward without hesitation and Edmund, who was lurking in the shadows, preparing to strike.

It wasn't the right time yet.

Lann's lips moved slightly, unsure how to signal Edmund about this, as Edmund was about to make his move.

In his urgency, Lann almost wished he could join the fight himself.

If only he had a brawl skill of 60 points!

Huh?

Suddenly, Lann's vision blurred, and he blinked, his view seeming to split in two: one half on the man in black's back, the other on the players charging up to the second floor.

What was this?

Edmund's movements halted, his body suddenly out of control.

In its place was a feeling he couldn't resist, yet found incredibly familiar.

"My lord?"

"Yes." Lann heard Edmund's voice. He was a bit puzzled and surprised, but quickly suppressed his emotions, focusing intently on staying hidden.

The players, of course, hadn't given up on defeating the boss, but as more of them died, did they begin to feel despair?

Was this entity also something the current players couldn't contend with?

The players on-site were somewhat desperate, even slowing down their attacks, unsure whether to continue.

Only Black Cat noticed that a figure seemed to be missing from the scene.

A bold guess crossed his mind, and he gritted his teeth to shout in the [Nearby Channel], "Keep going, don't stop! We need to wear down that wizard!"

The players, already hesitant, exchanged glances. Finally, a squad leader took the lead against the pressure of the ghouls. His movement prompted the other players to instinctively follow.

"Charge, charge, charge! What’s there to fear in death in the game, especially since it’s just the first round of beta testing!" Black Cat also rushed forward, soon encountering levitating fireballs.

The wizard, as if showing off, displayed various spells: corrosive mists, fireballs, and blue flames. After the wizard entered the fray, the situation, initially favorable for the players, once again became precarious. The players who arrived in time numbered only around two hundred, and as more fell, the pressure on the remaining players increased.

Finally, when the fourth spell hit the players, Edmund, or rather Lann controlling his body, made a move.

He didn't understand what was happening, but he felt in a peculiar state, as if naturally knowing what to do while 'possessing' Edmund's body. He effortlessly tapped into the body's full potential, appearing like a ghost behind the wizard, with his dagger tracing a white arc in the air.

Even at the moment of the strike, the timing and force were as smooth as a critical success in a brawl in his previous life. Lann almost visualized the wizard’s head flying off.

However, the dagger stopped mid-air, halted by an invisible energy shield.

Amos turned, smiling at Edmund: “Of course, how could I forget you, my lovely hydrangea, such a beautiful strike.”

“Is that so.” Edmund paused briefly, then suddenly lifted his head, one of his blue eyes turning green.

“I think so too.”

Both Edmund and Lann said in unison.

As Lann controlled Edmund to strike, the butterfly on his shoulder seemed to move. The Soul-Eating Butterfly, which had been trying to disguise itself as a harmless ornament, flew from Lann's shoulder to his hand.

The newly hatched Soul-Eating Butterfly needed a vast amount of life force and high-quality souls to replenish its strength.

The more powerful the individual, the more nutritious they were for the Soul-Eating Butterfly.

Lann had a vague idea; he raised his hand, and the Soul-Eating Butterfly took off from his palm. Its black and red wings fluttered in the air, beautiful yet fragile. It flitted upwards towards the second floor, as Lann had hoped.

As death loomed closer, Amos couldn't help but turn his head, and the remaining ghouls, as if driven mad, lunged towards the seemingly frail butterfly.

The delicate butterfly landing on the ghoul resembled a speck of dust alighting in the air.

The ghoul's tough skin gradually began to turn to sand and finally became a pile of ash-like powder, twinkling with a faint glow.

Wherever it flew, a mound of this powdery substance appeared. The killing was eerily quiet and effortless, like a child knocking down a sandcastle, unstartling yet breathtaking, leaving onlookers breathless.

This was the Soul-Eating Butterfly, the terror of an A-class oddity.

Amos dared not be careless. As he was about to cast a spell, Edmund madly grappled him, ignoring the corrosive black fog surrounding Amos, preventing him from using his magic.

The fragile and beautiful butterfly brought with it the scent of death.

Edmund, disregarding the pain of the black fog's corrosion, restricted Amos's movements.

Using Mr. Clown's attack as a diversion for the real deadly move... huh?

Wasn't that his own strategy just a moment ago?

Amos couldn't help but curl his lips into a smile.

He couldn't defend against an A-class oddity's attack; if the Soul-Eating Butterfly landed on him, he would die.

The premonition of death made Amos's scalp tingle, like electricity shooting through his brain's neurons. His eyes reflected the butterfly flying towards him, the ghouls turning into twinkling sand, and the young man orchestrating it all.

Logic told him to move, but Amos stood frozen, unable to tear his gaze away.

His heartbeat accelerated unknowingly, adrenaline surging.

A voice in his heart seemed to say:

It's him, it's him.

He is the ultimate flower he had been searching for.

Amos did something crazy. He stood still, letting Mr. Clown's dagger pierce his chest. Amidst the pain and blood splatter, he stared at Lann, channeling his origin power with all his might.

His eyes pierced through the fog, vaguely discerning the shape of a flower, outlined in gold and shimmering with a dazzling silver-white brilliance.

The voice told him that this was the most beautiful flower he was seeking.

The flower's phantom image flashed and vanished.

He strained to open his eyes wider, but lost his vision, as if blinded by darkness, with uncontrollable tears of blood flowing from his eyes. His heart pounded, each beat stronger than the last, as if he was about to burst open, his sanity slipping into an uncontrollable abyss.

As the Soul-Eating Butterfly was about to make contact, Amos, on the brink of madness, crushed a white camellia flower in his hand with his last bit of sanity.

The person entangled with Edmund vanished in an instant.