Chapter 309: Chaotic Imp! Come out!

The wine-stained tabletop reflected a faint blue glow under the dim light. The woman who had been posing seductively had already gone pale with fright.

The moment she saw the emblem, she stumbled and fled, as if the man sitting on the couch were some kind of evil ghost from hell.

The black emblem engraved with a blue eye pattern lay quietly on the table. The air in the private room seemed to freeze, and the woman who had been trying to act seductive had long since vanished without a trace.

Time passed minute by minute.

The wall clock emitted a monotonous ticking sound, each swing seeming to strike the nerves of the one waiting.

But the man sitting in the shadows had abundant patience.

He did not move at all. Even the frequency of his breathing had not changed in the slightest, like a statue that had long since lost its life.

After a long while, a hurried and disordered sound of footsteps finally came from outside the private room door.

“Ah—!”

The somewhat damp wooden door was pushed open a crack.

A withered, skeletal hand covered in age spots trembled as it reached in and grasped the door frame.

Then, a stooped figure squeezed into the room.

If Helos or Teacher Emilia were here, they would likely be utterly unable to connect the beggar-like figure before them, who looked as though he had just escaped a refugee camp, with the once-respected Master Alchemist of the Royal Magic Academy.

Professor Graham.

At this moment, he no longer had the slightly unkempt but at least somewhat respectable scholarly appearance of his past.

His mage robe had been replaced by a coarse linen garment covered in grease stains and patches. His already messy hair was now tangled into a gray-white mess.

The most shocking thing was his face. That face was so thin that it was almost nothing but skin stretched over bone, cheekbones protruding high, eye sockets deeply sunken.

The eyes that had once shimmered with wisdom and madness were now surrounded by two heavy, ink-black rings.

His stubble was unkempt, with no telling how long it had been since he last trimmed it, and there were even bits of food residue clinging to it.

He stood at the doorway just like that, his cloudy eyeballs rolling in their sockets, cautiously scanning every corner of the room.

Until his gaze fell upon the black emblem on the table, his body gave a violent shudder, as if struck by electric current.

Graham practically lunged to the table. He reached out with those dried, chicken-claw-like hands and, trembling, cradled the emblem in his palms.

He rubbed the blue eye pattern over and over with his thumb. The expression on his face switched back and forth between terror and fanaticism, appearing incredibly distorted.

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse as sandpaper: “No mistake, no mistake…”

Graham suddenly raised his head and stared fixedly at the mysterious man whose entire body was shrouded in the shadow of a cloak.

A gurgling sound came from his throat, the sound of swallowing saliva.

“You…” he probed tentatively, “You brought… that lord’s decree?”

The man on the couch did not answer immediately.

He slowly stood up. With his movement, the broad cloak emitted a soft rustle of fabric.

Then, he raised a hand and, with steady movements, grasped the edge of his hood and flipped it back.

He did not put on any lofty airs as Graham had imagined. Instead, he revealed a young and handsome face, yet one that evinced a deathly coldness.

It was a face that Graham found somewhat familiar, yet felt utterly strange.

The red hair, though still somewhat messy, was no longer as flamboyant as before.

The eyes that had once always carried arrogance and haughtiness were now filled with an eerie,幽 blue glow.

That glow was deep and hollow, like two bottomless ancient wells, devouring all emotion and humanity.

“That’s right, Graham.”

The man’s voice was terrifyingly calm, without a ripple to be heard. “I have brought the Master’s decree.”

Graham was stunned.

He stared blankly at that face. It was only after several seconds that he finally dug out this name from the blurry memories.

He pointed at the other, his finger trembling slightly from shock.

“You… you’re that kid from the Fleming Family? Kelaode?”

He certainly knew this student.

Though not a student of the comprehensive research academy, he was still a promising candidate for studying magic.

But the current Kelaode—where was there any trace of his former self?

That icy coldness and pressure emanating from his very bones, that aura as if he had already transcended the mortal realm, sent a shudder through Graham.

Kelaode nodded. He showed no reaction whatsoever to being recognized, not even a flicker in his eyes.

“It’s me.”

“But my current identity is not important.”

He took a step forward, advancing toward Graham. Those secluded blue eyes looked down upon his former professor, his tone turning extremely cold, seemingly devoid of emotion.

“What matters is that the Master is very dissatisfied with your performance.”

Those words struck like a heavy hammer, smashing viciously into Graham’s chest.

This man, already worn down to nerve weakness by fear, felt his legs go weak, and he actually collapsed directly to his knees.

“No… that’s not it!”

He frantically tried to defend himself, cold sweat instantly seeping from his forehead.

“I have not betrayed the Master! I have always been working hard for the great plan! It’s just… just that accident!”

“I was forced to abandon that place… I had no choice but to hide in this place…”

“Enough.”

Kelaode coldly interrupted his weeping.

“The Master does not care about the process. He only values results.”

He looked down at the pitiful wretch at his feet, a flicker of pity passing through his eyes, but more than that, indifference.

“You acted on your own, prematurely exposing our arrangement. Yours foolish arrogance almost destroyed the entire plan. According to the rules of the Cult, you should have been made the Master’s next work.”

Kelaode paused.

“However, the Master is merciful. Considering that you have served the Cult for so many years after all, he is willing to give you one more chance.”

“A… a chance?”

Graham jerked his head up, a spark of hope reigniting in his eyes.

He scrambled forward on his hands and knees, wanting to kiss the tip of Kelaode’s shoe.

“Thank you, Master! Thank you, Special Envoy! I definitely… I definitely will not disappoint the Master again!”

Kelaode coldly stepped back half a pace, avoiding his touch.

“Don’t celebrate too early.”

He said coldly: “Give me ‘that’ which the Master entrusted to you. He hopes you have taken good care of his work. If anything has gone wrong with that work…”

Kelaode did not finish his sentence, but the cold gleam flickering in his eyes said everything.

“It’s here! It’s all here!”

Graham hurriedly scrambled up from the ground.

At the mention of that “work,” the fear on his face instantly lessened considerably, replaced by a kind of manic expression.

Like an alchemist’s obsession with his life’s most perfect masterpiece.

He rubbed his hands together, speaking incoherently: “That is a divine miracle! A perfect creation! How could I not take good care of it? In order to provide it with sufficient nutrients, I even… even…”

He chuckled twice and did not continue.

But in this Underground Brothel filled with sin and desire, the answer to where those missing vagrants and prostitutes had gone was already self-evident.

“Come with me, Special Envoy.”

Graham turned around and made a “please” gesture toward Kelaode.

“It is down below, in the deepest part, in that safest and warmest nest.”

The two walked out of the private room. Graham led Kelaode through the noisy main hall, bypassing those guests who were indulging in pleasure.

At the end of the Corridor was a seemingly ordinary storage room wooden door. They came to a dark Corridor located in a hidden corner.

Graham took a rusty key from his bosom and opened the door.

Inside was piled with clutter and wine barrels.

But he did not pause, instead walking straight to the corner and forcefully pushing aside one of the enormous oak wine barrels.

Behind the wine barrel, a pitch-black passage leading underground was revealed.

A cold, damp wind blew out from the passage, carrying a nauseating stench of blood and decay.

“Please watch your step.”

Graham lit a Magic Lamp and descended first.

Kelaode followed behind him with an expressionless face.

This passage was very long, and it extended continuously downward.

The steps were covered with slippery moss, and on the walls one could even see traces of slime left by some unknown creature’s crawling.

They walked quickly. Before long, they had already penetrated deep underground.

This depth was even deeper than the intricate underground drainage system of the Imperial Capital.

This was a blind spot of the city, a dead zone that even the rats in the sewers would not deign to visit.

Here, aside from Graham’s heavy breathing and the footsteps of the two, no other sound could be heard.

This dead silence was enough to frighten any normal person.

But neither Graham nor Kelaode, following behind, showed the slightest discomfort.

Finally, after a long trek, the passage ahead suddenly opened up.

They arrived in an enormous karst cave.

This place had been converted by Graham into a temporary underground chamber. On the surrounding rock walls were embedded fluorite stones emitting a dim yellow glow, casting the massive space into shadowy relief.

The floor of the chamber was covered with complex alchemical arrays, their lines a dark red, as if watered by blood. And in the corners of the chamber were piled all kinds of bones and severed limbs, emitting a nauseating stench.

But Kelaode did not look at those things.

The moment he entered the chamber, his gaze was drawn to the enormous thing at the center of the Magic Array.

It was a massive Flesh Cocoon, fully two stories high.

It appeared a semi-translucent fleshy pink, its surface covered with blue veins that throbbed like blood vessels.

Through that semi-translucent membrane, one could vaguely see a gigantic, twisted figure curled up inside.

That figure looked both human and like some kind of arthropod.

It had the soft, graceful upper body outline of a female, but its lower half was connected to a bloated and enormous abdomen.

Countless slender tentacles drifted slowly in the nutrient fluid, as if possessing their own consciousness.

“Look!”

Graham stood before that Flesh Cocoon, spreading his arms wide like a fanatic displaying a miracle to the world.

His face was full of obsession, and he even shed tears of excitement.

“How beautiful… how perfect…”

“This is the masterpiece of the Enlightener! This is the girl who was once called Agatha, after receiving the gift of chaos, the brand-new form she has obtained!”

He turned his head, looking at Kelaode, his eyes shimmering with mad light.

“She is no longer that foolish student.”

“The current her is the lord’s darling, and also the embodiment of power!”

As his words fell.

That enormous Flesh Cocoon suddenly trembled violently.

“Thump—thump—”

A dull but powerful heartbeat came from inside the Flesh Cocoon, reverberating in the empty chamber, like the footsteps of the God of Death.

A pallid hand suddenly pressed against the inner wall of the Flesh Cocoon.

That hand had no nails, but instead grew bone spurs sharp as razors.

Through the membrane, a pair of crimson eyes filled with violence, chaos, and endless hunger slowly opened.

It stared fixedly at the two people outside. In that gaze there was no human reason whatsoever, only the most primal desire to kill.