As Wilder's calm voice fell, the swamp that was spread everywhere, covering nearly the entire area, began to move without reason. It closed in on the men, like an ebbing and flowing tide.
The swamp beneath Peale and the others' feet also began to flow slowly. A moment later, all the scattered pools of swamp had gathered, forming a thick layer in certain areas before stopping, as if nothing had just happened.
The men stood back-to-back, staring nervously and grimly at their surroundings, wary of the swamp. At the same time, they kept an eye on the thin, sole-deep layer of swamp at their feet. As veterans of countless battles, they wouldn't be careless. None of them could say for certain that this negligible amount of swamp wouldn't bring about the most severe consequences.
Wilder stood in the very center of the swamp. As if performing a ritual, a reverent look on his face, he spread his arms, stood ramrod straight, and closed his eyes to the sky. His nose twitched slightly, and a calm, serene smile appeared on his face, as if he were breathing in fresh air.
The next moment, he opened his eyes, his gaze as sharp as a blade. He lowered his outstretched hands naturally, speaking in a low voice as he did so. "Do you smell it?—"
Peale and the others watched Wilder's movements with intense focus. Hearing his words, their bodies tensed. They were like cornered prey, filled with a vigilance and an uncontrollable tension. But Wilder continued as if nothing were wrong, his face even showing a hint of enjoyment, as if he had just caught a fragrant scent.
"The aura of the Hundred Demons."
The moment his words fell, the motionless swamp stirred once more. Bulging mounds began to rise from the swamp, visible to the naked eye. In front, behind, to the left and right—in every direction, a scene like gushing springs erupted.
"What is this?" Seeing this bizarre spectacle, Peale and the others reacted instantly. Their nerves stretched taut, they arched their backs like startled cats, raising their weapons. They formed a defensive circle, back-to-back, each man watching for any strange movements in front of him.
There were at least a hundred of these "gushing springs" rising from the swamp on all sides. If this number had been men, it wouldn't have been so shocking. But as these "springs," the visual impact was staggering. It was like an ordinary person facing a hundred menacing, mysterious war machines made of cold metal. The feeling was amplified when you realized you were trapped in their encirclement. That was the feeling the "springs" gave off.
But what truly terrified Peale and the others was what happened next. The springs were no longer just surging upward; they began to twist into various shapes, their overall forms changing. Swamp springs of all different shapes were forming at a visible rate. Finally, in the direction Peale was watching, one of the "springs" solidified into its final form. The moment he saw it, a chill ran down Peale's spine, the hairs on his body stood on end, and he could no longer stop his pupils from contracting violently.
In the direction he was watching, a dozen or so springs were transforming. Among them, a warrior clad in strange, ancient armor and holding a long spear had appeared. Its "face" was gaunt and withered, with an ashen-grey complexion. What was most bizarre was that this warrior grinned at him—a sinister, eerie smile—and then lifted its slightly stiff and sluggish feet, walking toward them step by step.
"What… what kind of monster is this?!" Cold sweat broke out on the palms of Peale and the others. Their bodies went rigid, and a powerful sense of tension and fear rose from the depths of their hearts. It had been years since they had felt such an emotion. In that moment, their nerves were stretched to the breaking point. As far as they could see, more monsters of different shapes and types were taking form and beginning to walk toward them, the encirclement gradually tightening.
Among these monsters was a hairy spider as large as a millstone, with a head covered in densely packed eyeballs.
There was a deformed monkey with six arms and three heads.
There was a frog bigger than an ox, with viscous swamp liquid dripping from its mouth.
And there were all sorts of strangely shaped "humans": a long-necked man whose neck twisted like a snake; a scuttler that crawled rapidly on all fours, its mouth full of sharp fangs; and various other "humans" with long legs, long arms, and bizarre expressions on their faces.
Looking at these monsters, Peale and the others felt their scalps tingle. The encirclement shrank smaller and smaller, until the nearest monster was less than ten steps away.
As if unable to bear the mental strain and the oppressive, terrifying atmosphere any longer, Peale's tense expression shifted. A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he snatched the cleaver from Hoss's hands, charged at a three-headed pig, and brought the blade down with all his might!
SPLAT! The butcher's cleaver met no resistance, tearing through the three-headed pig's body with incredible ease. Swamp splattered all over the ground. Peale stared blankly at the cleaver in his hand, then at the mud on the ground, momentarily in disbelief.
Soria and the others, watching this, were also stunned.
"Hahaha! So they're just things meant to scare people! I thought they'd be tough to deal with, but they're just for show! No matter how many of these monsters come, I'll kill them all!" Coming to his senses, Peale let out an excited and wild laugh. He looked toward Wilder, his eyes turning mocking and vicious.
Soria and the others also snapped out of it and couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The tension and stiffness that had oppressed them vanished. They all raised their weapons and attacked the monsters.
SPLAT!
SPLAT!
"Hahaha! It really is no trouble at all! Are these monsters made of paper? I can't feel a thing!"
Dealing with monsters that could be dispersed with a single blow, the men grew more and more excited. Soon, the nearby monsters were all cut down, leaving behind scattered pools of swamp.
The men were panting, but the bloodthirsty excitement on their faces was plain to see. Peale handed the cleaver back to the Blood Blade Butcher and threw his head back to laugh. "Hahaha, I never thought cutting up paper dolls could be so tiring."
"Of course it is. Even if they're made of paper, if there are enough of them, you can't kill them all in one hit. Doesn't even eating make you tired?" Bronze Tree added.
"Hahaha! You're right! Even eating is tiring, let alone killing these paper things!" As he spoke, Peale's gaze shifted to Wilder, his smile becoming meaningful. "Didn't I tell you? That ability of yours is useless. Why don't you listen? Now, as your punishment… you can just obediently die, Wil—"
Before he could finish, the smile on Peale's face froze. A strange, dense sound, like the popping of countless bubbles, rose from all around. His pupils trembled as he stiffly lowered his gaze to the surrounding swamp. The swamp that had been cut apart and scattered all over the ground was moving again. As it twisted and churned, monsters visibly took shape, reforming into their previous appearances and closing in on them once more.
"This…" Seeing this, the men were utterly speechless. The smile on Peale's face was frozen, and cold sweat trickled down his forehead. His expression turned incredibly ugly.
"Dammit! These monsters can reform, but I don't believe they can do it infinitely! And I don't believe anything in this world is truly unkillable! While we still have our strength, let's finish them off before they surround us again!"
Peale's words made sense to the others, and they nodded in agreement. They too didn't believe that anything in the world was truly unkillable. Even the legendary Emperor Kaido—it was just that no one had found the right way to kill him yet. These monsters were just things created by Wilder's ability, and every ability had a weakness.
Without any delay, the men moved quickly. Soria of the Greatsword swept his blade, and a terrifying sword light instantly tore a path through the monsters in front of him. A dozen monsters were shredded by the single blow, reduced to pools of swamp on the ground.
Peale was even more direct. He charged forward, unleashing his terrifying power. His fists, surging with the raw energy from the mysterious drug, tore a monster apart in an instant. He then rushed to the next one, taking less than a second to dispatch each.
The others also used their own methods to unleash their terrifying power. The young Marine, watching from a distance, felt his heart pound with fear. On one hand, he had a new understanding of the power of these villains. On the other, he was even more shocked by Wilder's ability.
Then he saw Wilder, who had been standing in the same spot from the very beginning, watching the men fight the monsters with a flat, expressionless look. The agent's heart skipped a beat. Why does he look so unconcerned? Could it be… A look of horror appeared in the young Marine's eyes as a thought occurred to him.
But he couldn't be sure, and he felt that his idea was too far-fetched. Even though I wish that bastard Peale would just drop dead, it's just as he shouted—nothing in this world is unkillable. These monsters are just products of an ability; it's even more impossible for them to be unkillable. But… why is he so confident?
The young Marine continued to watch the battlefield. Peale and his men had once again cleared out the monsters. But just then, the swamp moved again, and the monsters quickly reformed.
"Dammit!" Peale's face turned ugly again. He wasn't the only one; the others' faces were also dark and incredibly grim.
Soria of the Greatsword analyzed the situation calmly, though the fingers gripping his sword trembled slightly. "The time it took for them to reform was shorter than before."
Although his tone was calm, his words sent a jolt through the others' hearts. The atmosphere instantly turned frigid, and a chill rose up within them.
Soria hadn't spelled it out, but they all understood the implication: the monsters' "resurrection" speed would only get faster, while their own stamina would be consumed even more quickly!
"We seem to have forgotten something," the Gunslinger, who had been silent until now, suddenly said. The others all turned to look at him.
"It's true that there are no unkillable living creatures in the world. But… are the things we're fighting right now even living creatures? They're just swamp, shaped to look like creatures and given the ability to move. They have no internal organs, no nerves or brains, and certainly no cells like living things do. For something that isn't alive to begin with, does the concept of 'killing' even apply?"
Hearing this, Peale and the others all felt their hearts leap. That's right… these things aren't alive, so the question of whether they can be killed is irrelevant. At that thought, the hairs on their bodies stood on end!
At that moment, the monsters closed in again, and their speed seemed even faster than before. Peale punched a large spider, and a dull thud echoed. The swamp spider paused for a moment before its body was pierced through by the fist and shattered into a puddle.
"Something's not right!" Peale's expression changed. He was panting slightly, gritting his teeth, his eyes fixed grimly on the advancing monsters. "These monsters are harder to break than before!"
"Yes." Just then, Soria leaped to his side and nodded, his gaze grave as he stared at the approaching swamp monsters. He had felt it too after his last slash. The monsters' bodies were much more solid than the last two times, and their movements and speed had become more agile. If they reformed again, would they be able to attack on their own initiative?
The moment that thought crossed his mind, Soria's face changed. "Luda! Behind you!" As he shouted, he raised his longsword, and a sharp point of sword light shot out!
Luda, who was in the middle of tearing apart a monster with his dagger, felt the hairs on his body stand on end when he heard Soria's voice. Without a second thought, he rolled to the side. The next second, a long spear stabbed into the spot where he had just been standing, plunging deep into the ground, its head completely buried. The swamp soldier in ancient armor stood there, its hand on the spear. It moved its hand slightly, pulling the spear out of the ground, but then a sharp gleam of light struck the back of its head, dispersing it back into swamp.
"Are you alright?" Soria came to Luda's side and helped him up.
"I'm fine. Thanks, Soria," Luda said, looking with lingering fear at the hole in the ground.
Soria waved his hand, his expression grave. "These monsters have become a real threat. If this continues, we'll be pushed further and further onto the back foot."
"That's right." Just then, Peale, who had been silent since the beginning, walked over, his face heavy with a feeling he couldn't put into words. He held out his hand to Luda. As Luda looked at him, confused, Peale said, "To catch the bandits, you must first catch the king. Let me borrow the poison-laced dagger. You guys cover me. I'm going to go kill him!" Peale spoke with absolute resolve.
"Can you do it?" A flicker of barely perceptible worry crossed Soria's eyes.
"Besides me, no one can," Peale said with utter dominance, taking the dagger from Luda. He turned and walked toward Wilder, step by step.