[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke
Chapter 72: Prowl Like They Own Pershia

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.

Even in the dim light, Xion could make out the intensity in his sharp orange eyes. Allen’s shoulders were rigid as his hand was still clenched around yet another broken limb.

The Alchemist was ready to throw it again if Xion so much as twitched.

Xion barely had time to process what was happening before a far more pressing horror caught his attention.

He, sprawled over the ground, looked up only to get his breath hitching in his throat.

The orcs, two of them.

He could hear them snarling, sniffing wildly at the air, drawn by the scent of his freshly flowing blood. Their staggering, uneven footsteps closed in.

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.

It was the smell of the blood and the thrumming of his footsteps that was drawing them closer!

He tried to wipe away the blood streak across his face, but the attempt seemed useless. Even the one who had followed the crystal was now snarling in his direction.

Allen nodded and Xion understood. He remained still.

Allen flung the broken limb to another side, successfully diverting the attention of one orc. There was only one left now.

Xion could take care of one. He had to. At least, he had to give it a try before losing, right? His only bet was the mana threads he had been gathering in his hand. The small circle grew bigger.

Just as Allen jumped down from the tree, the last orc lunged.

Not at Allen.

At him.

With a powerful leap, the creature landed directly in front of Xion, its jagged teeth parting in a guttural snarl. Its saliva was flying past his face.

Xion did not hesitate anymore.

He hurriedly threw the mana sphere straight the green lump mere inches away from his face. The head exploded the moment it came in contact with the bright orange mana.

The green rotting flesh flew all over. Xion had to resist the urge to puke as he scooted back.

Allen had taken care of the other orc. It had given them enough time to eliminate the two before looking at the last one. Unlike the two dead orcs, this one was almost double their size!

Xion’s entire body froze in terror. His earlier adrenaline was still roaring in his veins. Yet with the sudden lightness in his limbs, he felt as if all strength had been drained from his body.

His breathing came out ragged, his hands still trembling from the sheer force of the mana blast he had unleashed. The stench of burning flesh mixed with decay clogged his nostrils, but he had no time to recoil.

I have Allen with me... Xion muttered to himself in an attempt to quell the rising fear. Don’t panic. You have help. You’re not alone.

A blinding light forced Xion to shut his eyes. When he opened them again, the taller orc stood still. Until it fell forward. Its body was sliced directly in half, and now it lay on either side of him.

Xion’s heart skipped a beat, but to his surprise, it wasn’t Allen who had made the move.

Standing proudly in the clearing, little Noxian grinned up at him, holding a sharp dagger that was almost half his size. In his other hand, Noxian held the Bell Blooms; the very herbs Xion had been seeking.

"Brother! Look," Noxian waved the plants he had carefully uprooted, "I won! Sir Allen lost!"

Xion collapsed backward.

His body hit the blood-soaked, cold earth with a dull thud. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the hidden sky above as his chest heaved with the rapid beat of his heart.

He didn’t have the strength to respond, nor the will to laugh at Noxian’s innocent declaration.

Although, he was ready to use the system as a last hope that did not change the fact that he had nearly got himself killed.

Noxian crouched down. He placed the plants on Xion’s palm, "Brother, you don’t have to worry. They were just lower-level orcs. I can handle them."

Allen snorted, "You were late."

Noxian was indeed late. He used Allen as the bait before he rushed to get the Bell Blooms. Nonetheless, there were a few orcs he had to deal with, which in turn, made him almost late.

"So what? Sir Allen is strong enough to handle them, right?" Noxian’s smile was as fake as it could be.

[+2000 Merit Points]

A sweet notification chimed in his mind. It made Xion’s tumbling thoughts stable a bit.

"Thanks, both of you." Xion smiled weakly at the duo who were busy glaring at each other.