[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Prowl Like They Own Pershia

The orcs were nothing like the creatures Xion had imagined. They were not towering, greasy beasts with horns.

Rather their flesh was a sickly shade of green, sagging and decayed. Their bodies were messily stitched together by unnatural forces. Their skin hung loosely from their bones, marred by patches of rot and jagged scars.

The thick putrid stink of death was so strong that it could make even the hardiest stomachs churn, let alone Xion, who had to forcefully gulp down the bile rising in his throat.

Their eyes did not gleam with the fire of life. Instead, they were milky and clouded, yet somehow still burned with an insatiable hunger. A need to feast on the living.

Their movements were slightly jerky. They dragged themselves forward with broken, staggered steps.

The most unsettling thing about them, however, was that they should not have been there at all!

They belonged in the dungeons; confined, and guarded by the guild members and peacemakers. Yet here they were, prowling freely like they owned the Pershia!

The system map, which could detect all living creatures, failed to register their presence. That was when Xion noticed the weird similarity between orcs and Zombies.

No wonder the map did not detect them!

They were dead but still walking, suspended between life and death, consumed by an unrelenting need to devour, yet no longer considered truly alive.

Their very existence defied nature, an anomaly that left Xion both uneasy and horrified.

He did not dare to breathe louder let alone move. His wide anxious eyes were fixed on the three orcs scurrying deeper into the forest.

If he really wanted to have Bell Blooms, he would have to follow them. But would that not be a blatant suicidal attempt?

So, he waited. Patiently. Watching as the orcs dragged themselves further away before even daring to move.

His fingers slowly curled upon the wet grass mingled with fleshy bits, but then he felt it. Something smooth and cold beneath his fingertips. A small, glass-like crystal embedded in the ground.

Xion looked at his trembling palm where a finger-long, pristine white crystal was placed. It was broken in half. Another thing was the dried red coating its edges.

A chill seeped into his chest, making his heart thump even louder. His fingers tightened instinctively around the fractured piece as he glanced around sneakily.

Sure enough, tiny shards of white crystals lay scattered across the ground, catching the sunlight like scattered gems.

They formed a rough, broken circle.

A barrier.

Without a doubt, it had been meant to keep the orcs from rushing into the Ferni. Xion could not see the end, nor could he see where the orcs were headed to.

The place was too dark to make out anything properly. When the last orc was the only one visible in the darkness, he exhaled lightly.

However, just as he began to relax, a cold, slippery sensation brushed against his ankle.

Xion froze.

A thick, brown snake slithered over his leg. Its cold scales pressed against his skin with a creepy smoothness. Its bright red tongue flicked in and out as if enjoying the warmth of the alive skin it had found.

His body instinctively reacted. He hastily shook his leg, throwing the snake into the air. But amidst his movements, his palm clenched over the sharp edges of the broken crystal.

A sting of pain shot through his nerves. In an instant, trickles of red coated both his palm and the broken white shard.

The air froze before a low growl broke the eerie stillness. Xion did not waste any more time. He willed his legs to move. The orcs were already rushing in his direction. Their big noses sniffed the air wildly.

Xion threw the blood-stained crystal in the opposite direction while covering the wound with his handkerchief. He never knew he could run this fast.

The air wheezed past his ears, suppressing the loud growls following behind him. The vine curtain was in sight. Just a few more steps and he would be out of this terrible night.

Until his world spun as he tripped.

Not on the vines, nor on the branches and dead bodies littering the ground, but on the broken arm thrown at his feet by someone!

He hit the forest floor with a force that sent pain jolting through his body. His face scraped against the rough ground. A sharp sting flared across his cheek where a thorn had narrowly missed his eye, embedding itself deep into his flesh instead.

Gasping, he rolled onto his side, barely suppressing a cry of pain. It was all too familiar. The mana-embedded object rapidly chased the targets and made them trip.

His vision blurred for a moment before refocusing just in time to catch sight of the figure standing on the branch of the towering trees, half-hidden in the shadows.

Allen.

Xion glanced at Allen and then at the towering figures. It finally clicked. They could not see him. Those murky yellowish eyes were not able to see anything.

The green rotting flesh flew all over. Xion had to resist the urge to puke as he scooted back. _{fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm}