Chapter 109 In the Mist: Nymphs and Snowy Owls
Chapter 109 In the Mist (5) [Nymph] and the Snowy Owl
"Puff puff puff puff!!"
A series of dense, damp cracking sounds.
Black, viscous liquid gushed from the compound eye sockets, like a black rain gushing from an oil well.
The enormous body convulsed in mid-air, its long legs flailing wildly as if out of control.
"Splash—"
Countless shadows collapsed from mid-air and fell wherever the sound waves reached.
The remaining snow above the trees was also affected by this invisible vibration, and shattered into ice dust in mid-air as it fell.
Like sifted icing, cold ice shards drifted down from the surrounding mist.
The thin layer of ice on the snow beneath them, which had melted from the intense heat of the battle and was now rapidly freezing again, emitted a series of fine cracking sounds.
Then, after a chaotic ninth or tenth second, everything fell silent.
After losing control, the strange insects fell and collapsed on the snow like puppets with their strings cut.
George fell onto the snow, and the rope slipped from his hands.
He lay prone in the cold, damp snow, his ears filled with a sharp buzzing sound, as if countless cicadas were chirping inside his head.
It was pitch black all around because Kelly's lantern had shattered glass, and the flame flickered in the wind, almost going out.
Bates was the first to get up.
He shook his hand and groped around in the dark.
He heard Kelly breathing, so he crawled over and shook her shoulder.
"Miss Moore?"
Kelly coughed, the confusion in her eyes gradually fading.
Her first reaction was to reach out and touch her pendant.
The gem was still there; she rubbed it with her fingertip.
A tiny, steady flame ignited between my fingers.
"Fire!" her voice was hoarse. "Look at the others—"
Not far away, Elliott was struggling to prop himself up from the snow.
The amulet had lost its luster and now looked like an ordinary piece of gold hanging around his neck.
Bates crawled over, half-dragged, half-pulled him up, then picked up the tarnished amulet from the ground, covered it with his hand, and tried to infuse it with spiritual energy.
A warm, golden glow rekindled, dispelling the surrounding darkness that stretched for a foot.
The three of them huddled together.
The corpses of strange insects were scattered all over the snow, and their black blood melted the snow, forming filthy icicles.
George lay motionless beside one of the corpses, half of his body submerged in black blood.
"George!" Bates and Elliott rushed over almost simultaneously.
Bates turned him over; a thin layer of frost had formed on George's eyelashes, but his chest was still rising and falling slightly.
Bates patted his cheek and shook him a few times.
George's eyelids fluttered a few times before he slowly opened them.
He saw Bates's blurry face, Kelly beside him illuminating the scene with the faint light of a gemstone, and Elliott standing guard beside him, holding a dim amulet.
He moved his lips, but no sound came out.
George trembled as he pulled a small glass bottle from the inside pocket of his coat.
The liquid in the bottle was dark red, like aged blood.
He uncorked the cork, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.
The liquid slid down my throat, carrying a slightly rusty taste and a strange coolness. The tearing pain in my throat quickly subsided, and the buzzing in my ears gradually faded away.
After a moment, he was finally able to make a sound.
"A flawed skill," he gasped, looking at the empty bottle in his hand.
Fortunately, the Viscount had prepared a potion for himself beforehand, the Blood of King Arthur, and its effects were unexpectedly good.
"I learned it from one of my father's notebooks, but I didn't expect it to have such a drastic effect."
He tried to sit up, and Bates and Kelly supported him on either side.
Kelly looked at the corpses of strange insects scattered on the ground, and then at the eerie thick fog.
"What do we do now?" she asked softly. "How far are we from the Night's Watch hut?"
George looked up towards the east.
If we want to play it safe, it would be best to allow some time for recovery—but right now time is perhaps the most precious thing.
"Examine these monsters first, see if there are any clues that can explain their origins—" George said in a low voice.
"Then we moved on."
George propped himself up on the snow, looking down at the nearest monster wreckage bathed in sunlight.
The monster, which had been so oppressive in the fog, now looked like a pile of collapsed black straw.
He gestured for Bates and Kelly to be on guard, then staggered over to them.
Despite the indescribable but nauseating stench emanating from the remaining black blood, he crouched down and cautiously touched one of the monster's severed limbs.
It feels like touching a piece of scrap metal.
George entered the card table and, sure enough, saw a brand new card.
The cards seemed to shimmer with inexplicable colors, depicting a group of twisted insects.
Locust Plague - Nymphs
[Sexual characteristics: Abyss, Star, Wine, Non-human creature]
The will of "Starry Night" is unpredictable; its presence always sows seeds of violent change. Famine may belong to its domain, and the image of the nymph embodies this—a prophet of famine, burdened by the torment of suffering.
[Note: Due to special treatment, this organism has lost its ability to infect other organisms.]
"Nymph—" George murmured to himself.
Are there even more advanced adult forms?
However, these monsters are probably remnants of those terrifying beings sealed at the bottom of the rotten lake that have leaked out or escaped.
The "Abyss Lurker" that the Viscount slew was one of the five forces; previously it was the "Lord of the Flies," and now it's the "Starry Night."
Seeing George standing there in a daze, Bates asked, "Have you found anything?"
George snapped out of his reverie, left the card table, and was about to reply, "This time we're facing—"
Just then, a clear bird song suddenly rang out, piercing through the stagnant fog.
The four men instinctively looked up alertly, raised their guns and swords, and flashed their gems, all while searching for the source of the sound.
Not far in front of them, on the pristine snow, a snowy owl stood quietly.
It is slightly larger than a common owl, and its pure white feathers appear somewhat distorted in the surrounding fog.
Those round, golden eyes were calmly watching them, showing no fear or wariness.
Bates' finger rested outside the trigger guard, but he didn't pull it.
Elliott's eyes widened slightly, and he suddenly spoke softly, "The owl isn't like it seems. I don't think it means any harm."
Kelly frowned and turned to George: "Mr. De La Porte?"
George stared into the snowy owl's golden eyes.
For some reason, he recalled a story his mother had told him when he was a child: the symbol of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, and the bird in Norse mythology that guides the deceased—
And Hedwig—this place is really starting to feel more and more like Hogwarts.
Regardless of what others thought, the snowy owl let out another short cry, then flapped its wings and took flight.
It did not fly high into the sky and disappear, but instead maintained a height of about five meters above the ground, flying eastward—or more precisely, along the direction leading to the lake shore.
Its silhouette was quickly swallowed up by the thick fog.
But at that very moment, a strange phenomenon occurred: the white figure did not actually disappear from George's sight, but rather, as if projected, remained exceptionally clear in his mind.
A white dot steadily moved eastward through the chaotic mist.
This is not a visual persistence.
"It's in my head?" Elliott touched his forehead in surprise.
“Me too.” Bates frowned. “A mark?”
"Me too." Kelly also looked surprised.
George immediately realized that this was some kind of unusual way of guiding.
As for the source, he also had some guesses.
"Follow it," he decided immediately. "It might be the guide that leads us through this fog."