Chapter 98: Done With Fighting Them.
The cavernous tunnel echoed with the snarling shrieks of Chamiras as Ethan and Daniel dove into the chaos.
The air was a choking blend of decay and bile, thick with the rot of ancient fungi and acidic amoeba lining the walls.
Every step was treacherous—slick with slimy green bacteria that squelched beneath their boots. The shadows curled around them like predators, making it hard to distinguish enemy from illusion.
Ethan tightened his grip on Warlord’s Fang, its jagged black blade humming with dark energy.
Daniel’s new axe, a heavy twin-headed weapon with crimson edges—"Breaker Fang," he had named it—gleamed even in the corrupted dark.
"Keep your back to mine!" Ethan barked, his voice sharp over the screeches.
"Already there, boss man!" Daniel shouted, slamming his axe through a lunging Chamira. The beast—a twisted fusion of scaled limbs and bone-twisting joints—howled as it fell, leaking a viscous purple fluid.
The creatures were everywhere, crawling from the walls, dripping from the ceiling, swimming in the layers of stench.
Their skin shimmered between forms, like shadows given flesh, half-born from some forbidden experiment.
Ethan activated Battle Focus—his senses sharpened, the sounds grew crisper, every movement slowed just enough for him to react with deadly precision.
He ducked beneath a serrated claw swipe, pivoted on the slime-slick floor, and rammed his sword upward through a Chamira’s throat. It spasmed violently before melting into the ooze.
"Nice one," Daniel muttered, swinging Breaker Fang in a wide arc that cleared three enemies at once. "But careful. These bastards don’t stay dead if you don’t slice the core."