Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode
Chapter 371: Writhing Mass

Chapter 371: Writhing Mass

Sonya’s face said everything about how she felt, and Hermes, as her lord, knew exactly what she was feeling. He was certain that his own expression mirrored hers.

"What’s happening now, my lord?" Sonya asked as she leaped dozens of meters, scaling the wall before landing on a tower near him.

"It turns out that what’s happening here is also happening elsewhere. Not just in other domains of Olympus, but in the other Celestial realms as well," Hermes replied grimly.

Sonya gulped. She couldn’t comprehend or even begin to guess what was truly happening. Why had something like this suddenly occurred—and on such a massive scale?

"What’s your next plan?" Sonya asked.

Hermes let out a long sigh, then shook his head in frustration. "Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe... maybe we need to form an alliance."

"An alliance?"

Hermes nodded. "Yeah. A large one. Not just within our own realms, but across all realms—and I mean all of them. The Angels and the Demons as well."

Sonya’s eyes widened. That was something that had never happened before.

"I don’t know if that’s possible, my lord," Sonya said.

"No. Before now, it would have been impossible. But with the situation as it is, I’m sure they’ll see things differently," Hermes said. "We don’t even know what’s truly causing this corruption, do we? Figuring that out alone would be nearly impossible."

Hermes was right. If they wanted even a chance at survival, they had to work together. But Sonya wasn’t sure it would go smoothly like Hermes wanted.

But Sonya nodded firmly. "I trust your decision, my lord."

Hermes gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained tense. There was no certainty in this path, only a desperate gamble.

But before he could say anything else, a sudden shout broke through the air.

"My lord! Something is happening!"

A warrior rushed toward them, his breathing ragged. He was one of the many who had been helping restrain the corrupted with magical chains earlier.

His wide, frantic eyes sent a chill down Sonya’s spine.

Hermes turned sharply. "What is it?"

The warrior swallowed hard before speaking. "The corrupted followers—some of them are... changing."

Hermes’ expression darkened immediately. Beside him, Sonya’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening. This just kept getting worse.

"Show me," Hermes ordered.

The warrior nodded without hesitation and turned on his heel, leading them toward the site of the disturbance.

Sonya and Hermes followed, moving swiftly across the battlefield.

As they arrived, Sonya’s stomach twisted at the sight before them.

The corrupted warriors—those who had been restrained by chains earlier—were no longer just thrashing in their binds. A few of them had begun to change in ways that defied logic and nature.

Their bodies were melting.

Flesh and armor alike liquefied, blackened veins pulsating as they lost their original forms.

The thick, viscous mass of their bodies began to merge, writhing together as if drawn by an unseen force.

A sickening squelch filled the air as limbs fused, torsos distorted, and faces twisted into grotesque, half-formed expressions of agony.

Sonya felt bile rise in her throat. It was a horrifying sight, unlike anything she had ever seen.

Hermes’ jaw tightened, his usual composed demeanor now laced with something else, something rare. A deep sinking dread.

"This..." He exhaled sharply. "This is worse than I imagined."

The corrupted were no longer just losing themselves to madness.They were becoming something else entirely.

And the transformation continued at an alarming pace. The writhing and pulsing mass of flesh and armor twisted and expanded, its grotesque form shifting faster with each passing second.

What had once been Hermes’ followers—his warriors, his people—were now becoming something else entirely, their bodies no longer their own.

The air was thick with the sickly stench of decay and something worse, something unnatural.

Sonya swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak despite the horror gripping her. "My lord... you need to decide. Now."

Hermes hesitated. His hands clenched into fists. He did not want to do this. He did not want to kill them. But if he didn’t what would they become?

Would they dissolve into nothing but a formless, mindless sludge? Or would they merge into something else then becoming something stronger and more terrifying than before?

Sonya and the warriors stood frozen, their eyes locked onto him, waiting for his command. He could feel the weight of their silent plea, their desperation for him to decide.

Hermes exhaled sharply. He can’t have more hesitation and more doubt.

"We kill it," he said, his voice firm, though his heart ached.

The warriors around them who heard his order stiffened at his words. Sonya’s expression remained unreadable but he could see the pain in her eyes. None of them moved at first.

They were all thinking the same thing.

These... things... had been their comrades. They had trained together, fought together, shared stories, laughter, and pain together. And now, they were being ordered to strike them down and kill them.

Hermes’ gaze swept over them, his expression resolute.

"We don’t have a choice. Maybe there’s a cure. Maybe there isn’t. But right now, we don’t have the time to find out." His voice was steady, but there was sorrow beneath it, they all can feel is as well. "If we wait any longer, it could become something far worse. Something that will kill more of us. We must end it now!"

Silence hung in the air.

Then, with heavy hearts, the warriors nodded. Some gritted their teeth, others cast their gazes downward. But they all understood.

Sonya was the first to move. Blinking back the sting of tears, she drew her weapon, whispering a silent farewell to those they had lost.

And then they began their attack at once.

Blades tore into the writhing mass. Spears pierced the shifting flesh. Magic erupted, scorching the amalgamation of what had once been their friends.

The creature letting out a shrieking noises that came from all of them together. A sound neither human nor beast.

It writhed violently, its twisted forms attempting to resist and hold onto existence. But the warriors did not falter.

Even as grief weighed on their hearts, they just keep attacking. Even as sorrow burned in their souls, they cut down what could no longer be saved.

It was not a battle. It was a mercy for their former comrades.

And when it was over, when the last remnant of the monstrous fusion had been reduced to nothing but lifeless remains, there was no victory.

Only silence and grief.

Hovering above the battlefield, Hermes looked down, his expression grim.

Below him, the writhing mass of his followers was no more. Only torn remnants of flesh and shattered armor remained, soaking into the scorched ground.

The stench of burning corruption filled the air.

He had heard their final shrieks. He had felt them.

But he told himself he hadn’t.

He forced himself to believe that the cries echoing in his heart weren’t theirs. He telling himself that those wails of pain weren’t from the warriors and followers who had once followed him with unwavering loyalty and he wasn’t the one who had condemned them to death.

But no matter how much he pretended, the truth lingered, heavy and suffocating.

Shaking off the thoughts, Hermes cast his gaze across the battlefield. His eyes fell upon the remaining corrupted warriors still restrained by the glowing magical chains.

Some still struggled weakly. Others remained eerily still, their bodies twitching as if something beneath their skin was moving.

His jaw tightened. Would the same fate happened to them?

No. He couldn’t allow that to happen again.

"Warriors," he called down.

Sonya looked up, her face still pale from the battle. "My lord?"

"Separate them into smaller groups," Hermes ordered. "No more than five in a single containment. If we keep them together in groups of fifty like before, we risk the same thing happening again."

The warriors who hears his orders exchanged uneasy glances but nodded without hesitation. None of them wanted to witness another mass merging of their fallen comrades.

"It will be difficult," Sonya said, glancing at the dozens still bound by chains. Moving them one by one would be grueling work. Moreover when they will quite likely fight back.

"I know," Hermes replied. "But we can’t take any more risks."

No one objected.

They moved at once, carefully breaking apart the large clusters of corrupted followers and shifting them into smaller groups, reinforcing the chains with additional enchantments.

It was slow and arduous labor and they is indeed fighting back, but no one dared complain.

None of them wanted to hear those screams again.

Hermes watched them for a moment before turning away. The wings in his sandals unfurled and with a powerful beat, he ascended higher into the sky.

The battlefield below shrank as he flew, the wind whipping past his face.

He needed time to think.

Something was wrong deeper than mere corruption. It was spreading too fast and hanging too violently.

This was something new beyond their comprehension and something told him it was only the beginning.

He must go to those who had came from the Far North dimension. That place, with the Black Wall in it, must be where everything coming from.

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