The deeper they went, the worse the stench became.
The air in the catacombs thickened, turning heavy with the putrid scent of rotting flesh and festering wounds. The walls themselves seemed to pulse, veins of dark, organic matter weaving through the cracked stone like a disease spreading through a corpse. A distant, rhythmic squelching echoed from deeper within—wet, grotesque, the sound of something vast and alive breathing in the darkness.
The scent of methane flesh rot clinging to their lungs like a death shroud.
Belial swiped his blade in the air removing the blood off his blade, his breathing steady but his muscles taut. He knew this wasn't over. If anything, it was only going to get worse.
Xin, standing a few steps ahead, touched the cold walls, his fingers brushing against embedded Dimond shards. His gaze flicked back to the others. "We're close. I can feel it."
Raven cracked his knuckles, his black armor stained with grime and gore. He hadn't spoken much since they started their descent, but his presence was enough—a fortress of flesh and steel that neither Belial nor Xin could afford to lose.
A low, guttural sound echoed from the tunnels ahead, followed by the wet, slithering scrape of something massive shifting in the dark. Then, a screech. Higher-pitched than before. Hungrier.
Belial tensed. "They know we're here."
The tunnel widened into an open chamber, the stench of blood thick in the air. And then they saw it.
A nest. A breeding ground.
The cavern pulsed with grotesque life—eggs the size of men clumped together in clusters, their surfaces transparent enough to reveal the writhing horrors inside. The ground was thick with flesh, the walls crawling with smaller Fiends, their bulging bodies squirming in anticipation.
Then, from the darkness, the older ones emerged.
They were different. Larger. Their bodies, once bloated and grotesque, were now hardened with sinew and muscle. The wounds left by previous invaders—deep gashes and missing limbs—had begun to heal, albeit slowly. Their eyes, no longer vacant, gleamed with something new. Recognition..
The first of the elders lunged at Belial with a speed that defied its grotesque form. He barely had time to react before its claws raked across his chest, shredding his tunic and drawing a hot line of blood beneath. He stumbled back, cursing, his grip tightening on his longsword.
Xin was already moving. A flick of his wrist sent a shard flying, piercing deep into the beast's shoulder. It shrieked but didn't falter. Instead, its flesh twisted, knitting itself back together slowly, as if defying death itself.
"Shit," Xin muttered. "These things are regenerating."
Another one came from the side, its gaping maw stretching unnaturally as it lunged at him. Xin barely dodged, rolling across the ground and flinging another shard at its face. The impact cracked its skull, but even as it recoiled, its fractured bones began to shift, realigning.
Raven waded into the chaos like an immovable wall. One of the elder Fiends barreled toward him, its claws raking against his plated chest. The force of the blow was enough to send an unarmored man flying, but Raven stood firm. With a guttural growl, he swung his armored fist into the creature's face, caving it in with a wet crunch.
Another came from behind. Raven pivoted, catching the beast mid-leap. His fingers locked around its throat, lifting it effortlessly before slamming it into the stone floor. A sickening crack echoed as its spine shattered. It twitched but did not die.