Chapter 66: Burning

When truly facing such a twisted monstrosity, few warriors can remain fearless, and Kraft is certainly not one of them.

It moved in an uncoordinated state between crawling and writhing; every tentacle erupted with considerable force yet lacked coordination, exerting power without regard for overall balance. It seemed to hurl itself forward, trading instability for speed disproportionate to its size.

Teeth and keratin scraped the floor, plowing out a grating, irritating sound that rolled over the eardrums like a ratchet, feeling like the blades of a large meat grinder spinning, approaching with immense oppressive pressure.

Affected by the screech, Kraft barely managed a dodging motion, flashing aside.

This movement was clearly detected by it; tentacles slapped and sliced the ground, attempting to change direction mid-course. But these limbs had strength but lacked coordination, turning the high-speed body only a small angle, passing by Kraft.

A half-formed tentacle extended its oral appendage, biting viciously, bypassing the horizontal sword blade; upon contact, it tore away the cuff along with a cufflink, chewing and shredding the fabric in frustration. The metal button was repeatedly ground and deformed between the teeth, making it impossible to distinguish whether the snapping sound came from teeth or the button breaking.

Had it been a bit closer, what lay inside might have been a few fingers or even half a palm.

There was a faint pain on the ulnar side of the wrist, as if warm liquid were seeping out, but it did not hinder movement; he only hoped no superficial blood vessel had been sliced open.

He found his hand trembling slightly, the long sword feeling heavy. Was it fear of death brushing past, or uncontrollable exhaustion?

The screech erupted once more; the bizarre creature, having crashed into the wall, swayed its massive fleshy body and swung its tentacles to turn. Although there was no morphological flexibility in its appearance, it indeed seemed to possess a "front" in its self-perception, needing to align this direction with its target.

Under normal circumstances, Kraft could have Zhou Xuan with such a stupid brute force all night, but now he could clearly feel his condition deteriorating. Stamina was being consumed by intense physiological reactions; body and mind were tormented by the roaring sound. The last time he felt this was during a one-kilometer physical test in university with an otherworldly soul.

He gasped for air, forcing moisture-laden and scorched air into his lungs, along with the protein char smell that made him want to vomit. Stamina had reached a very dangerous critical point; all sensations were fading, the edges of his vision turned black, and only the terrifying echoing sound remained in his ears.

Spirit and will were also nearing their limits, maintaining the standoff on the last shred of numb rationality; at least before losing complete control of his body, he should not collapse yet.

That thing lunged; as it completed its acceleration, Kraft seized the opportunity to dodge again, letting this mass of tentacle rot and polymer make intimate contact with the wall for the second time. The brazier stand blocking the middle was directly smashed, scattering into a pile of wood chips.

Sporadic flames still burned on its body; the scorched tentacle skin was blackened and cracked, shattered by violent motion, revealing the yellow-white dried scabs beneath, crawling with tree-branch-like vascular networks.

It seemed that limb loss pain and surface burning were far from fatal wounds to it, perhaps not even serious injuries; continuing like this would only result in being worn down to death.

Consciousness searched memories of the room's unused arrangements, most of which were beyond his current physical capacity to utilize.

But he didn't necessarily have to act himself.

This creature's movement pattern indeed matched at least half of Kraft's guesses. The design efficiency of the tentacles was quite excellent, yet insufficient to support the massive body's continuous high-frequency motion, allowing only bursts of speed.

Moreover, the activity of all tentacles lacked overall unity; the center lacked complete control over them, making directional changes quite inflexible once speed increased.

The residual flames on its body gave consciousness a spark of inspiration; taking advantage of the gap during the turn, he moved toward the bedside.

Heavy, viscous, soft and sharp, hard bones supporting a soft body; the contradiction didn't care about his plans, just as before, it rushed straight for his face.

A little courage was essential; he restrained the blind avoidance driven by fear. Let it get closer, closer still, until he could clearly see the scarred tentacles, the sharp teeth arranged in the oral cavity, and the densely packed grinding teeth hidden in the shadows behind them, with glowing fragments stuffed between the teeth.

Countless oral cavities churned and opened and closed, anticipating this prey that no longer fled falling into them, to be chopped, ground fine, and completely digested, becoming part of it.

Based on its previous performance, he had to wait just a moment longer, until the massive body occupied most of his field of view, and crushing this position was already decided.

Then, he flashed with all his might in the direction of the widest space, clearing the way for the large number of fish oil cans lined up beside the bed behind him. By then, he had completely exhausted his last bit of strength, falling to a sitting position on the ground, supporting himself with both hands and shuffling toward the corner, trying to increase the distance.

A series of crisp breaking sounds; thick liquid splashed and flowed, ignited by the small flames on its body. The dying embers suddenly expanded, large bursts of dazzling red blooming, engulfing the body and most of the tentacles.

Heat so dense it seemed to gain substance expanded in the room; flames flowed with the oil on the ground, the heat rising to unprecedented levels.

That twisted soft body struggled and rolled in the raging fire; tentacles twitched and curled, picking up more fish oil while knocking over other cans. Bathed in the expanding pool of fire, it emitted a final wave of hoarse screeches, the heatwave sending out the brittle, cracked echoes.

Subsequently, extremely hot gas and flowing oil drilled into any orifice daring to remain open, baking the stupid, fragile tissues daring to challenge its brief and glorious authority; the verdict ranged from five to ten minutes of doneness.

Burning, intense and cruel burning; the most intuitive manifestation of energy, like giant claws closing, ravaged and destroyed from the outside in this exquisite, malicious biological masterpiece built of organic matter, calcium salts, and water.

Moisture evaporated before it could seep out; skin curled and shriveled, turning black and peeling off. Muscles contracted, joints bent, tentacles twisted into crooked, shriveled shapes; branches, after brief struggles, turned into black, unrecognizable matter, continuing to burn while entangled.

Pupil-less eyeballs flowed out denatured contents like popped bubbles; the already indistinct elongated features baked and melted. The sizzling mixture of oil and water bubbled; amidst the rolling thick smoke, the pungent smell of smoke and the strange odor of frying fat filled every inch of the air.

When thinking that human tissue was burning, that scent which churned the stomach added another layer of extreme mental revulsion.

After futile struggles declared failure, an unexpected change occurred in it. Kraft watched it peel away layer by layer, separating from the outermost tentacles and dropping off segment by segment.

At first, he thought the dried-out parts collapsed under their own weight, but then he noticed that inside, red-gray muscles and bones were separating, tendons withered and ruined, abandoned before they could even burn.

A force supporting this impossible body was extracted along with moisture from the impeccable "peripherals"; the motor system was abandoned, and excess growths withered and shriveled.

Flames devoured these inactive tissues faster, the spreading fire closely following its contraction, approaching the core.

Logically, if this were a pure recombination of human structure, all vitality should have been lost long ago. But after discarding the tentacles and the lumpy outer layer, something still moved inside.

Burning, shedding.

A core struggled to adjust this balance, instinctively discarding the irredeemable parts to survive the inferno.

From this perspective, it did not seem like part of a whole, but rather treated itself as an independently existing individual; the logic was similar to a brain considering itself merely a temporary resident in a dwelling that transports nutrients and provides shelter, viewing the body as "other" rather than self.

However, this coping measure was destined to fail; the flames continued to burn, and being at the center made avoidance impossible no matter what. More and more gray, withered tissues collapsed, turning into new fuel, revealing the core that had discarded them.

Turbid, viscous flowing light, pulsing and contracting like a heart; not brighter than the light tumors on the skin, but standing out with a sense of thickness and viscosity, a high-density dirty white, a hue like fungal infection pus spots.

Deep within, it writhed; with every rise of flame, it contracted inward a bit more; the space for movement constantly decreased, and the viscous, disgusting feeling grew even more intense.

Even though the appearance of this vocal-cord-singing, creeping creature already exceeded human tolerance limits, this viscous core in the wreckage was still incongruous, a lesion with independent consciousness, lacking connection with other parts, and not a component found in human body structures.

No more words were needed; Kraft leaned on his sword and stood up. With the screeching interference gone and having rested for a while, he could now stand up to grab a torch.

He ignited it at the edge of the fire pool, aimed slightly, and threw it into the struggling core, adding more fire to it.

The shriveled, hard tissues became the final incineration fuel; that thing writhed and contracted, but there was no room for evasion left. Flames closed in from all sides; the last remnants of the abomination succumbed to indiscriminate burning, and that malicious Bai Guang was completely annihilated.

Its contraction greatly facilitated the burning; dried, shriveled tissues replaced the oil, responsible for the latter half of this grand bonfire. Soft tissues connecting the joints burned away, the skeleton collapsed, organic components within the bones were lost, and the surface was soot-blackened.

Kraft, who had moved to the window earlier, waited for the first bonfire party of his life, and possibly the last, to slowly extinguish. Bones lay scattered over a large area; the surfaces of charred tissues in bizarre shapes were indistinguishable in origin.

Approaching the edge of the fire scene where the high heat had not yet dissipated, he stepped on a piece of blackened bone. It shattered into small pieces with a crackling sound; indeed, as the system anatomy teacher said, calcined bones have few organic components, being hard and brittle.

Back then in class, there was no chance to touch a single one; the teacher displayed the only calcined bone from several boxes of bones in the whole classroom inside a glass case. Who would have thought that today he could waste one to test its texture, without worrying about the heavy hand of medical ethics; one must say it was truly a bit luxurious.

There were still many scattered on the ground, of various sizes, with bones from upper and lower limbs and the torso all present. If not for the potential danger, he really wanted to take them back as teaching aids.

He distracted himself with random thoughts to relieve mental stress; the distorted, writhing afterimages still flickering before his eyes faded slightly; overlapping auditory hallucinations, sometimes far and sometimes near, still echoed in his ears, as if these remains were not yet dead, merely temporarily lost the physical life defined by mortals.

Now was a good opportunity to return, but his work was not yet finished. Inside that lump in the middle, which looked much better after burning, perhaps lay the answer he sought...

Or perhaps another mystery.