I Can Purify Corruption Through Intimacy in the Apocalypse

Seeing no other immediate threats nearby, Lucien climbed down from the building and began approaching from behind.

He had no intention of using either of his daggers, opting instead for the garrote wire he had carried since yesterday but had yet to use.

The area consisted of narrow streets between old theater buildings and collapsed storefronts. Rubble littered parts of the road, while abandoned carts and broken masonry created plenty of visual cover. It was an ideal environment for stealth.

Somewhere in the distance, a burst of flame briefly illuminated the street, followed by shouts and the sound of steel striking flesh.

"Fall back!"

"Left side!"

Lucien ignored it and kept moving.

The Hollow had nearly reached the intersection that would lead it directly toward the couple. Not wanting to lose the opportunity, Lucien subtly increased his pace without disturbing his Stealth. One hand remained close to the hilts of his dagger as a precaution, but his intention was still to use the garrote if he could get close enough to end it cleanly.

When he finally entered striking distance, Lucien quietly released the dagger and drew the wire instead.

Up close, the Hollow looked like nothing more than a former civilian. It even appeared younger than him, perhaps still in its teens. His eyes lingered on the Hollow for a brief moment, and his grip on the wire loosened slightly at the realization before he exhaled softly through his nose and pushed the thought away.

A Hollow was a Hollow.

His expression settled back into calm focus as he moved.

In a single fluid motion, Lucien kicked the back of the Hollow's leg.

"—Gkh!"

The creature stumbled forward just as Lucien looped the wire around its neck. Before it could react, he twisted it into position until it completely encircled the throat, then pulled hard as he drove the Hollow to the ground and pinned its back beneath his weight.

The impact echoed through the empty street.

Thud!

The Hollow reacted immediately, thrashing and clawing at the wire while its legs kicked violently against the pavement.

The moment it started struggling, Lucien felt the strength behind those movements.

He's quite strong.

Not enough to surprise him, but enough that he immediately abandoned any expectation of ending this quickly.

A hoarse, distorted noise escaped the creature's throat.

"Khh—! Ghh—!"

Lucien clicked his tongue and shifted his weight lower, driving a knee into the Hollow's back while tightening the wire even further.

The creature continued to buck beneath him with alarming force. Its fingers clawed desperately at the wire, tearing skin from its own neck in the process, while its legs slammed against the pavement hard enough to send bits of gravel scattering across the street.

Crack!

A loose stone shattered beneath one kick.

Lucien's jaw tightened.

Maintaining the hold was harder than expected.

The Hollow wasn't skilled, but raw strength made up for a lot. More than once, he felt it nearly create enough space to slip a hand between the wire and its throat.

"Tch."

Lucien adjusted his grip and pulled harder.

The wire bit deeper into corrupted flesh as the Hollow continued fighting with desperate, animalistic determination.

Fortunately, strength wasn't the only thing that mattered in a fight.

Keeping his breathing steady, Lucien adjusted his grip whenever the creature shifted, using his weight to pin its torso and prevent it from gaining leverage. The struggle dragged on for several long seconds, the Hollow's movements remaining violent enough that his arms had begun to ache by the time it finally started to weaken.

Gradually, the desperate thrashing lost its force. The kicks became slower. The clawing less frantic. Eventually, the creature's limbs went slack altogether.

Only then did Lucien loosen the wire and rise to his feet. He rolled one shoulder slightly to ease the lingering strain before glancing down at the motionless body.

His expression remained unreadable as he studied the body for a moment.

Only when the small [+30 CP & +3 XP] notification appeared at the edge of his vision did he change his expression.

So little XP…

Lucien's brow twitched slightly.

He opened his Status and glanced at the updated values.

[XP: 157 / 200

CP: 163 / 200]

Under normal circumstances, he would have been interested in figuring out exactly how the calculations worked. There was probably some kind of formula behind the rewards, but this wasn't the time to investigate it.

More importantly, his CP Capacity was already approaching the 175-point threshold that would supposedly trigger certain side effects.

He wasn't interested in testing out those side effects right now.

Without wasting any time, Lucien converted 100 CP into a single Skill Point and immediately spent it on Corruption Strike.

The familiar sensation of the System accepting the transaction passed through him.

A moment later, his attention returned to the battlefield.

The distant sounds of fighting were still echoing through the surrounding streets.

I should check on them.

Closing the Status screen, Lucien turned toward the couple's position and began moving.

He had only taken a few steps when the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. Looking toward the west, he quickly spotted three figures heading in his direction.

“Lucien!”

The man leading the group raised a hand as he called out, a familiar grin already on his face. The two women following behind him wore similarly recognizable expressions.

They were the same three people Lucien had spotted earlier while surveying the battlefield. Now that they were this close, he recognized them immediately. A small smile appeared on his face.

“Aldren, Calla, Selva. Looks like you’re all doing fine.”

“Did you come to help?”

Calla, the Flamebearer, sounded genuinely relieved as she asked the question.

Lucien nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s a relief.”

Selva visibly relaxed. Her shoulders loosened, and she let out a breath that seemed to have been trapped in her chest for a while.

“When that new Stage 4 Hollow showed up, everything turned into a mess,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought we were done for.”

Lucien's smile became slightly strained.

“You guys must be having a rough time.”

Since he had helped Temple Vigil on multiple occasions before, Lucien had gradually become acquainted with them. As local guards and regular defenders of the district, they often crossed paths during Hollow incursions and other emergencies.

Their first introductions had been somewhat tense due to his Inferni blood, and more than a few wary glances had been exchanged in those early days. Over time, however, familiarity had worn away most of that distrust, leaving behind a working relationship that was cordial.

To be frank, he preferred working alone at the moment. Fighting as part of a group was undoubtedly safer, but the nature of his profession was inherently solitary. Unless he learned to rely on himself, there wasn't much room for growth.

“Tell me about it,” Aldren muttered.

His attention drifted downward toward the corpse lying near Lucien's feet.

The grin faded from his face.

“This is...”

“You know him?”

Aldren fell silent for a moment before giving a small nod.

“Yeah.”

His expression grew more complicated as he stared at the body.

“He's Lorvel's younger brother. Kard.”

The usual casualness in his voice was gone.

“It's probably been about a month since I last saw him.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed quietly. “I know the two of them had a fight the last time I saw them together, but I doubt they hated each other.”

Aldren looked away from the body.

“I wonder how Lorvel's going to react when he finds out about this...”

Selva knelt beside the corpse and gently reached toward the young man's head. Her expression softened with sadness as she closed her eyes for a brief moment.

“In sinum Zoḗgennis, fílī, renascatur.”

Lucien had heard that prayer often enough to know its meaning.

Into the bosom of Zoḗgennis, son, may he be reborn.

Most prayers used by the clergy of the major deities were spoken in Imperial Ancient, the predecessor of the Imperial Common spoken throughout the Empire and as the international language in Valdris continent. It was said to be one of the most resonant languages for reaching the gods, alongside Sylvari and Drakynthar, which was why it remained widely used in rituals, blessings, and formal prayers despite having long since fallen out of everyday use.

“We should help the other sections.”

Calla's firm voice cut through the brief silence.

“We'll take care of Kard's body after the Hollows are dealt with. If we want to bring him back, we should focus on not becoming corpses ourselves.”

Aldren exhaled through his nose and gave a small nod.

“You’re right.”

Lucien looked around the surrounding streets, searching for movement. His gaze gradually traveled upward—and then froze.

The change in his expression was obvious enough that all three noticed it immediately.

Without saying a word, he raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence, before pointing toward a nearby building and moving toward it himself. The others exchanged brief glances, but they were quick enough to understand that something was wrong and followed without question.

The building turned out to be an abandoned theater ticket office. Dust covered the floor, several sections of the walls had partially collapsed, and the interior smelled faintly of damp stone, but it provided enough cover from the street.

Once they were inside, Aldren leaned closer and lowered his voice.

“What happened?”

Rather than answering it vocally, Lucien pointed through one of the broken windows toward the rooftop of a building standing diagonally across from them.

The three followed his finger.

A few seconds later, their expressions changed as well.

Something was moving across the flat rooftop on all four limbs. Even from this distance, its silhouette was unmistakable. Its body was humanoid but unnaturally thin, with long hair trailing behind it as it prowled across the roof in a way no human ever could.

It was the Spider Hollow.