From the thick, gray morning mist came the sound of heavy, labored breathing.
A massive figure moved slowly, revealing itself bit by bit before Germain and Ging.
It was a large-type beast, resembling a grotesquely swollen and feral boar-like humanoid.
The two enormous tusks jutting from its mouth made it look even more savage.
Atop its head sat a twisted metal crown.
In one of its powerful arms, it carried a cleaver large enough to slice a carriage clean in half.
Its skin was rough and uneven, riddled with the marks of bite wounds.
Its abdomen had been torn open, intestines spilling out and draping like an apron, covering its legs in a grotesque curtain of flesh.
Behind the giant followed a much smaller creature—an unremarkable small-type, also a boar humanoid.
Its build was about the same as Germain and Ging, limbs still intact, yapping arrogantly as if feeding off the might of its monstrous leader.
This was the so-called "Boar God" and its minion, the Piglet.
There was no doubt—the Boar God was a fearsome Enhancement-type creature.
Germain and Ging turned simultaneously to look behind them.
From the rear, another cloud of dark mist surged forth.
Out of it crawled the grotesque, fleshy creatures they had encountered on their way.
One by one, they slithered in, converging into a hideous swarm.
They began biting into each other, fusing together, their flesh knitting in strange, unnatural ways.
Wet squelching sounds echoed in the air—splurt, squelch, splat.
Before long, a towering centipede-shaped monstrosity was born, made entirely of stitched-together flesh.
This was "Formless Flesh", a Transmutation-type monster said to rival even the Boar God.
The Boar God and Formless Flesh, accompanied by an ever-growing wave of lesser meat creatures, quickly formed a tightening encirclement around Germain and Ging.
"Tch." Ging clicked his tongue in frustration.
"Didn't Don say he'd get here ahead of us and clean out the monsters first? Where the hell is he?"
"Maybe he ran into some trouble," Germain replied calmly, pulling out his Cursed Insect Emblem.
Bzzz—
Germain conjured the "Remains of the Bloodthirsty Apostle," targeting the "Formless Flesh."
Flesh happened to be the favorite food of the Bloodthirsty Apostle—though whether its remains could defeat the Formless Flesh remained to be seen.
The "Remains of the Bloodthirsty Apostle" bloomed like a flower bud, drifting midair like a jellyfish, and launched an aerial assault toward the Formless Flesh.
Germain followed up in the same manner, materializing the "Remains of the Old Witch."
Just yesterday, she had been his enemy. But today, the Old Witch had become one of Germain's loyal minions.
The moment she appeared, she reached out and grabbed the little pig behind the "Boar God," sucking it into her grip without hesitation, and tossed it into a boiling pot of oil.
The piglet screamed in agony as it sizzled in the pot.
The "Boar God" froze for a moment—then erupted in fury, lifting his butcher's knife and charging at the Old Witch in a rage.
The "Old Witch" wasn't about to back down either. She raised her giant hammer and met the Boar God head-on.
Boom—
The clash of two powerful beings shook the earth, sending shockwaves across the land and echoing like thunder.
Germain turned to Ging and said, "I'll go search for the 'Apostle of the Gods' and the 'Ritual Stone Circle' hidden here. Try to stall these flesh monsters as long as you can."
"No problem," Ging replied calmly, knowing his role in this mission. He didn't act recklessly.
"I'll hold off the horde of flesh monsters—and when I get the chance, I'll land a fatal blow on those two behemoths."
This was exactly what Germain had in mind.
"The Boar God" against "The Old Witch."
"The Formless Flesh" against "The Bloodthirsty Apostle of Pain."
Their battle would surely give Ging the opening he needed.
After giving his explanation, Germain nodded toward Ging.
Then, with a light push of his toes, he leapt into the air and unfolded his silver wings.
Whoosh—
He shot through the sky like an arrow, rising above the tide of flesh and blood below.
In his hand, he flicked out his serrated meat cleaver and slashed apart the flying flesh beasts that lunged at him, trying to latch onto his face.
Germain turned into a streak of silver light.
Wherever he passed, those monsters burst into clouds of blood mist, raining down like scarlet droplets.
His current En made it easy to locate the target he was supposed to hunt.
Boom—
A burst of silver light exploded as Germain accelerated midair.
A shockwave rippled outward, forming rings of smoke.
In the blink of an eye, he was already close to several towering mountains.
But a closer look revealed something unnatural.
Those mountains weren't made of soil, rock, trees, or grass.
They were towering piles of corpses—mounds of bones and blood stacked high like war monuments.
At the center of these grotesque bone hills stood one "mountain" that was much taller than the rest.
But it wasn't a mountain.
It was a colossal humanoid figure—larger than any known creature.
It wore yellow robes and sat on the ground.
Its head was a massive skull, drooped low, encased in a strange container that resembled a rare-specimen display case.
As Germain approached, the being known as the "Apostle of God – The Collector" slowly raised its head.
Its hollow eye sockets stared directly at him.
It was the beginning.
Germain and "The Collector" moved at the same time.
Casually, the Collector reached into a nearby meat mound and pulled out three different monster skulls.
He tossed them into the air.
Immediately, the nearby mountains of flesh began to tremble.
The meat buzzed like a swarm of hornets and surged toward the airborne skulls, rapidly forming spines, limbs, and flesh around them...
Three massive beasts emerged in an instant.
Germain pulled out the Hunter Badge, and without hesitation, summoned three towering entities to match.
The Remains of the Disease Spreader.
The Remains of the Tongue of Theft.
The Remains of the Fissure of Ecstasy.
Six colossal figures collided, pairing off in a chaotic frenzy of power.
The battlefield turned into a nightmare of flesh and force.
The ground shook beneath their weight.
Even the Collector hadn't anticipated such resistance.
It quickly recognized Germain was no ordinary opponent.
This was someone worth fearing.
Slowly, the Collector rose to its full height.
Though its back was slightly hunched, it still loomed like a tower.
With long, dry, skeletal fingers, it peeled back its yellow cloak, revealing the pitch-black void within.
From that endless darkness, thousands of skulls spilled out.
They poured across the ground like a river of the dead.
Rotting corpses writhed among the bones, moaning.
It was the Collector's personal graveyard—its sacred hoard.
Then came the scream.
A piercing, demonic shriek that tore through the air like glass shattering.
Germain faltered.
Blood rushed to his head.
His temples throbbed.
But he did not fall.
A silver ring of light flared above him.
The halo spun once, and the mental pressure disappeared, as if erased.
The Collector froze.
Once again, it was caught off guard.
Germain had neutralized both its signature abilities.
But now...
Now, the Collector felt something new.
Fear.
Because Germain had drawn a weapon.
A scythe.
Its curved edge gleamed with an unnatural light.
Something old.
Something deadly.
Even without touching it, the Collector knew—
That weapon was made for killing things like it.
*******
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