Chapter 284: Breaking the Shell

On the outskirts of Dongmu City, an abandoned mechanical workshop hides in the heavy night.

The rusted steel framework casts clawed shadows in the moonlight.

Kenneth leans against a cold metal shell, his complexion appearing paler than usual in the dim light, fine cold sweat beading at his temples.

His expensive suit jacket is stained with dust from his escape from the hotel, and his meticulously groomed hair is a bit disheveled.

Since the emergency evacuation of the blasted hotel, an indescribable discomfort has been slowly spreading from deep within his stomach.

"Cough… cough cough…"

He can't help covering his mouth with a handkerchief, suppressing a few coughs.

It's not merely the exhaustion from excessive Magic Power Consumption, but seems as if something that doesn't belong to him is writhing uneasily deep inside, siphoning his life force and Magic.

"Lord, you…"

Lancer keenly senses the Master's abnormality.

He holds twin pistols, guarding a few steps away from Kenneth like the most loyal hound, his handsome face full of worry.

"Never mind, Lancer."

Kenneth waves his hand, forcing himself to endure another wave of nausea, trying to straighten his back.

He must not show excessive weakness before his subordinates; it's his pride, and the dignity of the head of the Magus lineage.

"The hotel's water… perhaps tainted with low‑grade purification Magic elixir residue, causing a bit of indigestion."

He offers a pretext he himself doubts, then his anger flares again, dispelling some discomfort, "Those nameless lunatics! How dare they attack in such crude, reckless manner! If my Sola were there…"

Thinking of his beautiful yet equally proud fiancée Sola, Kenneth feels both dread and a hint of relief.

Sola didn't follow him to Winterwood, perhaps a blessing in misfortune; otherwise, amid such explosions and chaos, he truly wouldn't know how to guarantee her absolute safety.

Lancer furrows his brow, intuitively sensing the matter isn't as simple as the Lord says.

The hotel's water source, the Lord clearly examined with Magic upon checking in…

At that moment, a crystal‑clear female snicker, feather‑light as it brushed the silent factory air, reached both ears.

"Who?!"

Lancer whirls around in an instant, his gunpoint aimed at the shadow of the voice's source, assuming a perfect combat stance.

Kenneth also steels himself, his fingertips silently gathering Magic light, ready to activate a defensive garb.

From the shadows, a graceful figure steps forward.

It is Huan Long.

She gently waves the folding fan in her hand, strolling as leisurely as in her own garden, ignoring Lancer's steel‑piercing gunpoint, her gaze intriguingly fixed on the increasingly pallid Kenneth.

"Oh dear, it seems my timing is just right."

Huan Long's voice is delicate and melodious, with a theatrical delight, "I'm quite curious, that little thing quietly planted… when will it finally complete its splendid breaking of the shell?"

"Little thing? Breaking the shell?"

Kenneth's heart jumps; the crawling, increasingly distinct sensation and fullness between his chest and abdomen suddenly intensify at her words!

He clutches his chest, his complexion shifting from white to blue, an ominous foreboding pouring over him like icy water.

"What have you done to my Lord?!"

Lancer demands sharply, stepping forward, his gunpoint a breath away from Huan Long's throat, a ferocious killing intent locked onto the mysteriously appearing woman.

Whatever she is, if she is linked to the Lord's current suffering, she is an enemy!

Huan Long giggles, the fan half‑covering her crimson lips, her eyes full of mockery: "Do what? I haven't done anything, Sir Loyal Knight."

She gives Kenneth a meaningful glance, "I'm merely a… passing observer. The seed was sown long ago, the soil is fertile enough; now it blooms and bears fruit— isn't that natural? If blame is due, perhaps that cup of water? Or… perhaps the city's underground, some being that just woke up and couldn't resist a little sneeze…"

Her words are like a venomous snake's hiss, each syllable striking Kenneth's taut nerves.

"Ugh—!"

Kenneth finally cannot endure, emitting a painful groan, his legs giving way as he collapses to his knees.

He claws his chest with both hands, the expensive suit fabric tearing into folds, as if trying to dig out the lurking thing inside.

"Lord!"

Lancer is startled, no longer able to attend to Huan Long, instantly retracting his twin guns, kneeling on one knee to try to support Kenneth.

However, the moment his hand touches Kenneth's body, a cold, slick sensation travels along his Spiritual Core.

Shhh—

It sounds like fabric being slowly torn from within, echoing sharply in the dead silent factory.

Kenneth's expensive shirt at his chest is quickly soaked by a dark, viscous fluid, turning a chilling dark red— it's blood, mixed with some even more filthy bodily fluid.

Immediately after, beneath the fabric, a clear bulge forms, as if some living thing is desperately trying to burst out!

Lancer's pupils suddenly contract to needle‑point size!

He witnesses a horror he'll never forget: the skin and muscle on Kenneth's chest irregularly bulging and stretching as if they have independent life, taking on a semi‑transparent texture, faintly revealing beneath a multi‑segmented, twisted shadow wildly writhing!

"No… don't…"

Kenneth's eyes brim with utmost terror and pain; his voice hoarse and weak, his gaze beginning to drift, his life force being rapidly drained by the greedy inhabitant within his chest.

Puff—!

A light sound, yet more chilling than any explosion.

The clothing and flesh over Kenneth's chest finally burst open from within!

A creature about the size of a palm, its form indescribable, crawls out.

It resembles a horrific amalgam of flesh and eerie green energy, its body covered in strange markings and tiny, constantly opening suction‑mouths; its head lacks eyes, bearing a ring of razor‑sharp teeth constantly dripping slime.

It is smeared with Kenneth's blood and tissue fluid, emitting a "rustle" like countless arthropod joints rubbing.

"Lord!!!"

Lancer lets out a howl of extreme grief and rage, his eyes instantly bloodshot!

Honored knights have never seen such an utterly wicked sight!

He hesitated almost not at all, and the short gun thrust forward with a speed faster than the ear could catch, stabbing at the newly "born" insect that still seemed somewhat bewildered!

However, the insect's reaction speed was faster than could be imagined!

It shifted sideways as if teleporting, just letting the tip of Yellow Rose's gun graze its chitinous shell, trailing a spray of pale green sparks.

At the same time, several slender limbs on its body suddenly shot out, landing precisely on the arm of the Lancer holding the gun!