BXBX NOVEL Chapter 89 A Living Nightmare
Chapter 89 A Living Nightmare
The colossal monster strotted in slowly, as if to intentionally add to the tension that was already pressing the atmosphere.
Nothing could be seen attached to the beast of burden. Usually, it would have links of chains connected to it and clink with each movement but this time around, it moved alone.
Each monster had their claws out, poised for a strike, they all bent in a way that showed they suspected that something was wrong and were ready to lunge themselves.
The shelled critter fully entered the walls of the castle and stopped. Two bipedal monsters moved to close the gate however before they could as much make a noise.
Their throat was slit and body hidden away.
The gate was not closing.
The monsters were now gnarling, staring at the gate. Perhaps thinking something was definitely wrong.
Even though they were nothing but shells of horror possessed by an immense madness.
The air became cold as a deafening silence settled in the area.
Everything and everyone settled in the embrace of an absolute \'calm before the storm\' for a few seconds.
Then…
Night Terror happened.
In the blink of an eye, the stalwart monster became a blur of motion, a whirlwind of chaos and carnage.
Its razor-sharp claws sliced through flesh and bone with ease, cleaving limbs and rending bodies asunder—now, even faster than it ever was.
The monsters, caught off guard by the ferocity of the onslaught, could only muster feeble attempts at defense before succumbing to the relentless onslaught.
Crimson arcs of viscera painted the air, accompanied by the sickening sounds of tearing flesh and splintering bone.
Night Terror moved with a demonic grace, its form shifting and undulating like a living nightmare, evading strikes and countering with devastating force.
As the initial wave of monsters fell, their brethren mustered their courage and rushed forward, claws and fangs bared.
But Night Terror was a force of nature, an unstoppable juggernaut that left only a trail of mutilated corpses in its wake.
Northern, a mere speck in the chaos, watched in awe and trepidation as the Night Terror unleashed its fury upon the horde.
With each strike, the creature seemed to grow in speed and power, its darkness consuming all in its path… like a void.
At the point of that realization, darkness clung to the terror like a cloak, swimming with its form as it shot in and out of bodies, leaving them in a wake of gruesome blood splatters.
Carnage and chaos malevolently rolled through the air.
Undoubtedly, Northern felt like he was getting to have a first hand experience by sight as to what it meant to be a spawn of the Chaos Prince.
Night Terror had grown, vastly from what it used to be. It had become tremendously powerful and didn\'t even seem to be sweating each kill it made.
It did enjoy the act of slaughter before… but now the monster seemed not to just be enjoying the act but also the art.
The castle compound was wide enough to contain over a thousand people and still have more space, monsters were scattered here and there. Some were currently making their way from the yard.
The air grew thick with the acrid stench of spilled blood and ruptured viscera, the unholy symphony of battle echoing over the walls of the castle.
It didn\'t matter the development, or increasing numbers, Night Terror showed no signs of relenting, its insatiable hunger for destruction driving it ever forward.
It lashed out like whipped tendrils, snaring unwary monsters and flinging them against the unyielding stone walls with bone-shattering force.
Limbs and viscera exploded in grotesque bursts, painting the surroundings in a macabre tapestry of crimson and gore.
The horde pressed forward, undeterred by the mounting losses, their numbers seemingly endless.
Grotesque forms seemed to emerge from every corner, their twisted anatomies defying all logic and reason.
Maws agape, claws curved for slice, they charged headlong into the fray, only to be met by the Night Terror\'s ferocious onslaught.
Its claws raked across their armored hides, drawing forth gouts of ichor and eldritch fluids.
Fangs gnashed and snapped, seeking purchase in the Night Terror\'s ever-shifting form, but found only emptiness.
The creature was a living terror, a manifestation of primal fury that could not be contained or reasoned with.
The stalwart monster executed its kill so accurately that no one was left alive after it passed them. Northern didn\'t even need to deal with worrying about it looking back to see if he was also busy fighting.
Either the stalwart monster did not care to begin with and was already deeply consumed by the madness that sought only bloodshed or it had already trusted him all too well.
Northern doubted it could have been the later.
Believing Night Terror trusted him was the reason could have worked if he hadn\'t taken witness to how it grinned at the gate.
Now, before Northern\'s eyes, it was just like an incarnate of chaos and destruction.
It\'s trails were filled with dark red blood, marred by lifeless bodies of horrors with terrific expression frozen on their face as they fell to the doom of this malevolent creature.
And this was the monster he was to fight?
In that moment, fear gripped Northern, clawing upon his entire body.
And faced with the terror of fear, one this immense, every creature were often left with two options.
Flight?
Forget nemesis.
Forget they are meant to cross path.
Forget closing the rift.
He was going to die!
\'I can just run away and find a life for me in the rift…\'
That\'s right, if he could run away now when Night Terror is fighting, he would be able to survive undoubtedly.
There was even a rift somewhere in this one, he would enter it and who knows, it really might be the way outside.
\'Maybe it is… maybe I should try it again…\' Northern thought.
But then it suddenly dawned on him again.
North.
You are doing it again.
You are beginning to act below expectations.
It was like someone rang the words to him. And that brought him back to reality.
Fight…
He clenched his fist and slowly curled a corner of his lips, shooting his head backward.
His eyes gleamed with maliciousness, drowsed in ethereal blue.
"Whoever you are, you\'d have to do better than that to make me give up!"
In that split moment, Northern\'s eyes had undoubtedly perceived something.
The source of the madness.
It was here… in this rift.
And was definitely try to make him turn… It was quite evident why it was doing that.
Give or take, Northern was set to destroy this castle and close down the rift.
Something… someone, somewhere did not want that to happen.