Chapter 115 : The Decaying Monk, the Pitiful Melunus
Chapter 115: The Decaying Monk, the Pitiful Melunus
While Lynn was fooling Brian—
And prying out the information he wished to know from the other’s mouth—
In the distant Pool of Rot—
Just as Lynn had guessed, powerful beings from the Undead faction had arrived as well.
The previous battle at Lemon Port had indeed stirred great chaos.
Aside from that unlucky Rotting Lord, the neighboring undead lords had all taken notice.
Each reported it to the Demon God they served.
Upon seeing this, Melunus dared not neglect his duty and likewise reported to the Decaying Demon God Namira.
After a round of negotiations—
And given that the area itself fell under Namira’s dominion—
The right to take charge still lay in their hands…
The space before them twisted.
Three figures wreathed in a chilling aura quietly emerged.
At their head—
Stood a humanoid being garbed in a tattered gray monk’s robe.
Its frame was thin, its face desiccated.
Its eyes were tightly shut, hands clasped before its chest—
As though in eternal prayer.
Yet the power of decay surrounding its form was so potent that the entire Pool of Rot stilled in submission.
A Seventh-tier Undead Monarch—Decaying Monk Lasalle!
He was also the Abyssal Envoy under the Decaying Demon God Namira.
To his left—
A massive wolf formed from countless bleached bones, with ghostly blue soul flames burning within its eye sockets.
A Sixth-tier Undead Lord—Skeletal Wolf King Voggark,
A subordinate of the Demon God of Ten Thousand Bones.
To his right—
A slender female figure, seemingly shaped from the essence of ice and snow.
Her beauty was eerily pale, her long hair cascading like a frozen waterfall, and her presence exuded a chill that could freeze souls.
A Sixth-tier Undead Lord—Frost Silence Snow Woman Sylph,
From the dominion of the Demon God of Zero Degrees.
“Jie jie jie…”
The Skeletal Wolf King Voggark was the first to utter a shrill, mocking laugh.
Its bone tail swept across the ground, splattering foul mud.
“Melunus, you fool!”
“To think you were frightened by a mere phantom of Holy Light, losing the entire legion you painstakingly gathered!”
“You’ve truly disgraced our kind!”
The Frost Silence Snow Woman Sylph covered her lips with a faint smile, her voice like the crisp collision of icicles.
“I heard that so-called Angel was but a fleeting mirage?”
“Even the city under His so-called protection has now become the nest of your Heart-Eroding Leeches.”
“Heh… if that had truly been a Supreme Being, would a filthy thing like you still be alive?”
“It seems~ it was merely some lucky wretch flaunting remnants of ancient grace, pretending to be divine.”
In the center of the Pool of Rot—
A massive mound of flesh rose slowly.
Melunus’s viscous voice trembled with suppressed rage: “Voggark! Sylph!”
“Why is it you two who came?”
“Where are Grimalr and Kelvork?!”
The Bone Wolf King sneered. “Those two cowards, just like you, didn’t dare come!”
“So we came in their stead~ jie jie jie jie~~”
The Skeletal Tyrant and Frost Devourer—
Having witnessed the battle at Lemon Port firsthand—
Had been utterly terrified.
Even though the higher powers judged that the so-called phantom of Michael was likely no stronger than the Sixth tier—
Otherwise, the Rotting Lord would never have been spared—
They were still too cowardly to accept this mission.
Thus, it fell to Voggark and Sylph to arrive instead.
“Hmph~ Seems they’re the clever ones. You two, yet dare to shout here?”
“That divine pressure, that absolute suppression of existence… could an illusion replicate that?!”
“Were it not for Lady Namira’s divine protection, I’d have been annihilated long ago!”
As the three seemed ready to continue their quarrel—
“Enough.”
A calm, tranquil voice resounded.
It wasn’t loud, yet instantly silenced the chaos.
The Decaying Monk Lasalle still had his eyes closed.
His clasped hands hadn’t moved an inch—
Yet an unseen pressure enveloped the entire area.
Both the Bone Wolf King and Snow Woman froze mid-taunt.
A flicker of dread passed through their soul flames and icy eyes.
This envoy of Namira possessed unfathomable strength—
And more importantly, represented the will of a Demon God. Some respect was mandatory.
Melunus, too, restrained his aura.
His massive eyes turned toward the Decaying Monk, filled with reverence and expectation.
He hoped this Abyssal Envoy would affirm his judgment—
And request greater support from the Demon God to reclaim his lost honor.
However—
The Decaying Monk’s next action shocked everyone present.
He neither asked for details of the Lemon Port battle, nor used any divination.
He merely raised one withered hand, pointing toward the surging pool below.
The next instant—
The Decaying Monk’s figure dissolved into a gray streak, vanishing silently into the viscous, dark-green waters.
Not a ripple stirred—like a drop merging into the sea.
Yet soon—
The Pool of Rot began to visibly change!
The churning surface eased.
The nauseating stench lessened slightly, as if purified.
The thick essence of decay within the waters—
Began to flow steadily toward where the Decaying Monk had submerged.
Melunus trembled violently, black ooze seeping uncontrollably.
A stabbing pain tore through him—
For the Decaying Monk was directly absorbing the very core power of his Pool of Rot!
“Lord Lasalle! You…”
Melunus was both enraged and terrified, yet dared not retaliate.
Among the Undead, where ranks were absolute—
It was a cruel but accepted law: higher beings could consume the strength of those beneath them.
He had simply never imagined—
That the other would act so directly, so impatiently!
By the pool’s edge—
The Bone Wolf King couldn’t suppress a harsh laugh, scraping his claws against the ground.
“Serves you right!”
“Seems Lady Namira was most displeased with your performance.”
The Snow Woman said nothing—
Yet a glimmer of delight passed through her pale eyes, her aura of frost thickening as if savoring the spectacle.
Within the Pool of Rot—
The Decaying Monk sank deeper, as though returning to his mother’s womb.
Greedily, he devoured the decay essence that Melunus had accumulated over countless years.
As for the “Angel” at Lemon Port—he seemed in no rush to investigate.
Perhaps, in his view—
Whether that being was a lost God or a mere lucky fool—
Before the true power of the Abyss, all would eventually become nourishment for decay.
For now, the only thing that mattered was strengthening himself.
Unknowingly, he had given someone the most precious gift of all—time.