Chapter 198 Mesmerizing Land of Fantastical Elements

Lurking in the Valley of Parmesus was not just the threat of beasts, but something far more sinister.

Sealed within the contorted valley were not just mindless beasts, but monsters a class above them in true evil: humans.

[“Within the Valley of Parmesus, stains on the Guild Foundation’s record live; S-rank criminals that were deemed ‘likely impossible’ to kill, three in total, dubbed ‘The Three Devils of Parmesus’.”]

Stepping out from a moss-covered cave, a tall man with abnormally long, muscular limbs wore the pelt of a beast on his back, sniffing the air as a smile stretched across his scarred lips. He was nearing three meters in height, with a mane of stringy, jet-black hair cascading down his bulbous trapezius muscles.

[“Fleisch” | S-Rank Criminal | A animalistic man who possesses little intellect, though he wields a body that’s as if it were carved from the flesh of god | 500+ victims]

–

Chopping blocks of wood with an ax, a bald-headed, tan-skinned man stood near a cabin inhabiting the mysterious valley. Blood ran slick down his arms as he held a vicious smile of inhuman wickedness, glancing back at the victims he’d already claimed: a pair of adventurers were strung up like laundry between trees.

“It’s that season again–the hunt begins,” he spoke in a deep, twisted tone.

[“Collector” | S-Rank Criminal | A slayer of beasts and men alike, finding Parmesus to be his paradise | 500+ Victims]

–

Lastly, a silent man stood, wearing armor made of the bone of beasts, wielding a rusty, steel cleaver in one hand.

“Who the hell are you!?”

“Stay back!”

A couple adventurers, one, a brown-haired man wielding a greatsword, and another, a young, female mage holding a staff up, yelled out to the abhorrent figure who peered at them with eyes tucked behind his mask of bone.

[“The Butcher” | S-Rank Criminal | A silent force of evil, theorized to be an apostle of one of the sinister deities | 1000+ victims]

As the grotesque man took a single step forward, the girl mage yelled out: “Burn my foe to ash, Fire Blast!”

With a fireball soaring straight towards the man, it landed, exploding into a ball of embers.

“…I did it,” the girl sighed.

“What a creep,” the brown-haired swordsman breathed out, “–Wait!”

Through the smoke and flames, the butcherer rushed forward as his burnt flesh rebuilt itself, though still scarred and imperfect.

“How–?!” The orange-haired girl cried out.

Before any further words could be said, the silent butcherer swept his blade forward, dragging the jagged steel across the girl’s midsection.

In a gut-wrenching squelch, the mage was disemboweled, leaving her in shock as she looked down, giving the imprisoned criminal a window to seamlessly stab his blade straight through her neck.

“Yuna…!” The swordsman screamed out.

Driven by rage, shock, and grief, the leather-armored recruit roared out with tears, rushing forward with his blade in hand.

As he swung his blade down overhead, the skin-wearing butcher was unstopped; the sinister figure slashed his stained blade forward, cutting through the man’s blade before slicing through his neck all the same.

[“For decades, the ‘Three Devils’ have remained in the Valley of Parmesus, eternally imprisoned within the scope of the region. To the Heads of the Guild Foundation, they’re nothing more than beasts; obstacles within the trial itself. Though it’s clear as day that their brutality simply exists on a different spectrum.”]

–

However, the only threats were not those sealed within the valley. Wickedness is indifferent to where it manifests, even amongst the ranks of the recruits.

A clearing of the magical region, occupied by a serene, flowing river that connected to the ceiling of trees above, had its clear water dyed in crimson.

Amidst a bloodbath that stained the area, multiple corpses of recruits were strewn across the gravelly ground. A bald-headed man had his innards strewn out, disemboweled by what had to be a sharp blade; a youthful mage had his head severed from his shoulders; a woman was reduced to multiple pieces, scattered across the ground. It was the aftermath of an attack unlike an animal; calculated and intentionally brutal.

Only a single person remained living, unscathed with only his black gloves drenched in blood, inspected the remnants of those slain on the trial grounds. Handling the flesh of the deceased as if it were an ordinary occurrence, he hummed to himself.

“As I suspected; boring people, boring shades of red,” the man sighed, “–Perhaps I came here with expectations a tad too high. Ah, well, I still have my mission…Where is the ‘Dread’?”

Wearing an all-black uniform with a matching cloak descending from his shoulders, the man, seeming to be in his early twenties, had shaggy, jet-black hair and onyx eyes, devoid of life or compassion, which stood in contrast to his smile.

“That’s right…remember your mission,” the man reminded himself, “You’re here to eliminate the ‘Three Devils’. It is an important duty for our cause. Control yourself, control yourself. Shackle the urge to rip apart. Suppress it. Suppress it. Suppress it.”

It took a minute of repeating to himself in a whisper, rapidly and aggressively with his fingers trembling, but the man seemed to lock it down.

After cleaning his blades, the figure heard rustling, prompting the man-slaughterer to stand up as a look of malicious intent filled his eyes.

“Grgh!” The grunt of a young girl sounded out from behind the treeline.

Approaching through the treeline with steps as silent as the whispers of the wind, the darkly-dressed man found himself watching a silver-haired, lithe girl combatting a red-furred bear.

The young mage tossed a bore of wind at the goliath bear’s chest, exploding out and revealing its rib cage before the beast healed again, swiping towards her.

“Grgh!” The youthful recruit dodged.

A mage? Ah, is that a fragrant, fresh mana I feel? The man thought, I’ll change my approach…to more of a slow-burn, this time.

Holding his silver daggers in a reverse grip, the dead-eyed man leaned down before bursting forward, intercepting the bear’s assault on the young mage as he used a swirling cut to part its large head from its body.

“Wha–?” The young girl witnessed.

This time, the beast didn’t heal as it dropped down with a resounding thud throughout the forest floor. After struggling to etch any lasting damage into the beast, the young mage found herself in shock of how easily the fair-faced man dispatched it.

Swiping his blades of the predator’s blood, the black-caped man smiled, sheathing his daggers before extending his hand.

“That was a Gehenna Bear, they’re native to the continent of demons–fearsome foes, unless you know their weakness,” he explained, “–You need to behead them to bypass their regeneration. I’m Amon, by the way.”

Accepting the man’s hand, the silver-haired girl was surprised, holding a smile, “Melisande.”

Amon smiled, “Well, Melisande, I think we can both agree that in a place like this, our chances of survival are better in numbers, right? Ha-ha.”

“You’re right–I’m looking for somebody, actually,” Melisande told him.

“Oh? I’ll help you find them, then,” Amon assured her with a false smile.

“Really? Thanks,” she accepted.

Though there was some level of caution that Melisande held, the act of being saved without a question by the figure eased her paranoia.

—

After wandering for hours, avoiding gnarly beasts and just about anything that made inhuman sounds, Emilio found himself unable to locate his companion.

Where is she?…I can’t leave her alone in a place like this, he thought.

As he marched through the mystical forest, he was stopped as his stomach audibly growled. Through the continuous marching and fighting, he realized that he had not eaten anything that day.

“…Crap…I forgot about that–what am I going to do for food?…” He mumbled.

Though all that was on his mind was regrouping with Melisande, it would be a much more arduous task if he didn’t find something to fill his belly for the time being.

As he inspected the array of shrubs, he found colorful berries and odd-shaped fruits growing on the plants. Despite how delicious some looked, he knew it was an unwise decision to blindly trust what was grown in the wildlands.

Seeming normal enough, he plucked a vine of orb-like, purple-skinned fruits that resembled grapes.

“This could do it, right?…” He muttered.

Sniffing it, there was nothing that stood out as ‘bad’ about the fruit, prompting him to pluck one from the vine before popping it into his mouth.

Like a grape, it released sweet juice directly into his mouth, also helping to satiate his thirst, leaving him pleasantly surprised. It was a careful first consumption, but after making sure it didn’t immediately manifest a disease in him, he popped more of the grape-like fruits into his mouth.

Lucky, he thought.

After giving himself some sustenance, he moved on, carefully marching through the densely-packed forest while scouting for his lost companion.

The atmosphere of the sealed valley was ominous, yet tranquil in some parts; at times, it felt utterly lonely, so vastly alien to what he was used to that he found himself ensnared by its mystique, but at the same time, scared.

There was always something wrong with the scenery he looked at; trees hung from the sky, rivers flowed upward, and patches of ground were suspended in midair, stagnating.

Critters scampered as he moved; he found himself watching cyclopian deer run, or bunnies with horns hop away.

It was simply a mesmerizing fever dream of a land.