Jeanne, expressionless, tore down a section of curtain and wrapped up a few chunks of cooked animal meat. At the same time, she began pulling shards of glass from her forearm, her cheeks, and her exposed abdomen, gesturing for the black sorcerer to provide healing.
As expected, when the curtain was pulled aside, it revealed nothing but another stretch of eerie hallway—not the gray-white sky she'd imagined. Who could say if this place even had a day-night cycle? But as time passed, the candlelight had grown dimmer, casting the decaying corridor in the pallor of a morgue. The two of them now stood in a room on the corridor's darker side—surrounded by translucent corpses, shattered wood and glass, torn curtains, overturned cabinets, and broth spilled across the floor. The once-grand dining room was now a wreck. On the brick-red walls, several noble portraits stared down at them with deathlike eyes. Perhaps this was a morgue now, after all.
"Does it have to be a perfect heal?" Cesar asked, eyes scanning her up and down while roughly plucking the glass shards from her back. "In a place like this, can't you at least try not to waste my backup mana reserves?"
"Those three I killed—did their souls suffice for your needs?"
"Burned through about half, but… just barely enough."
"Then quit whining. I don't want scars on my face, and I don't care for that nonsense about 'warrior's marks.'"
She pointed again to her cheek with a bloodstained finger. Her voice was hoarse and cracking. Blood dripped from her body like rainwater off a haystack. She took a bite of meat, now tinged with her own blood, and licked the red from the corner of her lips. Her mouth filled with the foul taste of rusted iron.
The stench of blood and cooked flesh—both human and animal—clung to the air in a nauseating swirl, drifting in every direction.
She stood in this morgue-like chamber, her pleated black clothes soaked with vivid crimson, clinging tightly to her skin. She looked like a corpse that had just clawed its way back from the dead—murdered by blade, no doubt.
"Is that because you shamelessly still call yourself a pretty young lady? I thought Inquisitors didn't care about things like gender," Cesar remarked with a mocking grin as he began to patch up her messy wounds. He didn't press the matter further.
This body stood a full head taller than the Inquisitor, letting him look down at her from above. Truth be told, the slow healing of her shoulder wounds left Cesar a little dazed. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd used a healing spell on anyone else.
Maybe not since seven years ago…
Back when the Empress's troops shattered the lab doors with Hounds of the Shadow Throne?
No one back then could've predicted Cesar would end up entangled with Ilialathas—the god venerated by the Shadow Temple. And during those same days, the Empress tossed every senator and power-holder from the old guard into the coliseum, letting them be torn apart by otherworldly beasts left behind by the black sorcerers. A delightful show, apparently, for nobles and peasants who had bought tickets.
And now? Perhaps the next one to catch Her Majesty's eye would be Hood.
The immortals of this world always liked to meddle in mortal affairs. It was maddening. Did they even understand how much effort it took to summon that deep-dweller from another world?
Cesar seriously doubted those coliseum caretakers had taken proper care of poor Rick—that was the name he'd given his deep-dweller. Ever since Cesar had accidentally damaged Rick's brain during one experiment, the thing had been operating with the intelligence of a wild boar.
"Heheheh," Jeanne gave a dry, sardonic laugh after forcing down a few bites. "Another one of your deadpan jokes? Should I give you a nice round of applause?"
She must be talking about my 'Inquisitors don't care about gender' line, Cesar thought, snapping out of his daze.
"Generally speaking—"
He paused mid-sentence.
The gray threads spreading toward the door and hallway told him something had changed. Cesar clicked his tongue—and fell silent.
"Ah—something's coming, isn't it?" Jeanne said, her face twisted with irritation. She'd barely managed to shove a few bites of meat into her stomach before being interrupted again—no wonder her mood was foul. Still, without needing a verbal cue, she read it from the black sorcerer's expression.
"Yes," Cesar replied.
"Tch—"
Once she understood the situation, Jeanne's first action was to tie the curtain cloth full of meat tightly around her now-healed waist. "Can we still run with your concealment spell?"
Even an Inquisitor had no desire to face another wave of intense combat on an empty stomach.
"The path's blocked," Cesar replied simply. "And my spell can fool most senses—just not touch."
"Then smash through one of the blockades and hide like a rat again. Sounds easy enough, doesn't it?"
"If it's so easy, why don't you go clear the way?" Cesar gave her a serene smile.
"..."
"You hear the footsteps?" he added.
"All I hear is your disgusting buzzing, like a damn fly."
Cesar ignored the jab and casually scooped up the black cat. He began burning some of his soul reserves, letting magical energy surge through him. He prepared a few relatively subtle spells—small-scale, low-cost. "Head in the direction they're coming from," he said, and quickly cast soul-burning enchantments on both his and Jeanne's swords. Then, two simple deflection spells, wrapping both of their bodies in protective sheaths.
"You know, earlier—never mind. I suppose you couldn't have predicted I'd stomp the table and shatter the glass."
"How considerate of you," Cesar said, sarcasm laced in a tone that somehow wasn't sarcastic.
And then—
The sound came.
An overwhelming patter-patter-patter of countless footsteps.
Jeanne snorted, ignoring the black sorcerer's mockery. She simply drew her sword and focused on the door, taking a deep breath to shake off the stiffness and exhaustion in her limbs.
In the next heartbeat, the wall exploded inward.
Debris rained down like shrapnel from a black-powder bomb hurled by some insectoid warrior, crashing against Cesar's pale-gray spell shield with an ear-splitting screech. The ceiling and wall behind the barrier were also struck, sending an old oil painting crashing to the floor. The windows shattered with a crack, and in the very next moment, a giant, fur-covered hand—thick as a concrete column—reached into the room.
"…What the hell is that?"
At first glance, Jeanne thought it was a bear. In the second moment, she realized something was wrong—the forelimbs were oddly shaped, like stretched loaves of bread, and the fur looked coarse, more like something hand-stitched. Then, in the third moment, a bear-like face the size of a water barrel pushed through the opening.
Its eyes were made of ruby. Its gaping maw still held a few half-chewed fingers. Its dark red, almost black nose was stitched to its face with a fraying string that now dangled loosely—like a corpse swinging from a tree.
"Uh… little girl's doll?" Cesar gave Jeanne a pat on the shoulder. "Quite fitting for your aesthetic, don't you think, beautiful maiden?"
"How many more times are you going to say that!?" Jeanne cursed. Even as she spoke, two—no, three—giant teddy bears, each taller than her, were already stomping into the room. Their heavy footsteps made the floorboards tremble.
The candles had all been snuffed out, but through her magically enhanced vision, Jeanne could see—
Down the darkened hallway, even more bizarre, misshapen dolls were slowly making their way toward them.
"…Can we exit from the other side?" Jeanne asked stiffly, taking a cautious step back.
"Check the window behind you," Cesar said calmly.
—A massive, grotesque face was pressed against the window, filling it completely. Rotting human eyeballs were stuffed into its faded, sagging sockets, peering slowly into the room.
It belonged to a pink plush rabbit. Its maw was split open, revealing twisted canine teeth nearly as long as human fingers. A wave of putrid stench spilled out with its breath—foul and reeking of decay.
Jeanne felt what little remained of her girlhood spirit utterly shatter.
I never want to see anything like this again for the rest of my life—not even in a toy store!