High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1212 - 274 Black Mountain Goat Cub

Chapter 1212: Chapter 274 Black Mountain Goat Cub

Clear morning at the Lakeside of Bell Lake, dampness was pervasive.

Outside a pavilion on the Lakefront Corridor, in the green lushness of the grassy landscape above, a blurry rift suddenly appeared, twinkling with a light interwoven with gold and black.

"Crack!"

It was as if the sound of fabric being torn echoed, accompanied by faint thunder, emanating from the rift into the air, vanishing in an instant. The low shrubs and grass blades on the slope bowed their heads as if humbly greeting someone in reverence.

"Whoosh!"

A gush of stinky green slime rolled out of the rift and splattered among the lawns, inciting the wild grass to grow wildly. The dark green leaves on the bushes seemed to receive the blessings of a Druids’ animating spell, transforming into big mouths singing hymns that no one could understand:

"Sll’ha Nilgh’ri-nyt shogg ooboshu ... " (The servant of all thing’s invites the Dark Kingdom to descend ...)

"l’ebumna syha’h n’ghft" (In the Abyss’s eternity and darkness)

"Y’ai ’ng’ngah" (I call upon Thee)

"Y’hah" (Amen)

The sounds were chaotic, yet carried an unusual resonance, as if hundreds of radios with poor signals had been turned on at once or like the buzzing, wailing noises carried by a storm passing through a forest—deep, eerie, nauseating to hear.

"Achoo!"

A small Black Mountain Goat sneezed, struggling to climb out from the green slime. This action was incredibly difficult, not because it had broken its leg when it fell from the rift in mid-air, but because it had too many legs now.

In addition to its original four legs, many more black goat legs of varying lengths had sprouted from under its belly, its ribs, behind its hind, and under its neck, branching and forking, kicking wildly trying to find footing on the ground.

Besides, the previously glossy black fur of the small Black Mountain Goat was now marked with swirling patterns, inflating and writhing, constantly changing shapes, yet upon close inspection, resembled the curling leaves on the bushes—mouths that were always humming hymns.

"Pop!" "Pop!"

Gooey popping sounds erupted in succession, like bubbles in a marsh being pierced. Dark tentacles emerged from the black spirals on the goat’s skin, stretching out in all directions, waving about.

By now, the appearance of the original small Black Mountain Goat was completely unrecognizable.

It had mutated into an entity akin to a twisted Tree Man—an abnormally short stature, dozens of air root-like legs, mouths all over, and active black tentacles that writhed like Medusa’s hair.

According to the Wizard’s textbooks, this was a "corrupted flesh mass."

Green slime dripped from the ’flesh mass’s’ mouths, flowing onto those legs, seeping slowly back into the pitch-black fur. The ’Black Mountain Goat turned flesh mass’ swung its sticky tentacles, twirling aimlessly on the open slope, adjusting to its newfound legs while emitting confused ’meh-meh’ sounds.

Yes, even though it had mutated into a flesh mass, it still bleated.

It seemed to feel safer this way—it wasn’t a sound a true ’Follower of the Mountain Goat of the Forest’ should make. But instincts from the Deeps of Starry Sky told it that in this place, if a ’Black Mountain Goat Juvenile’ didn’t act enough like a true Black Mountain Goat, it would die quickly.

After bleating for a while, it suddenly stopped and cocked its body to listen carefully.

Through layers of thick bushes and not-so-wide woods, it distinctly heard the noisy sounds from not far away, mixed with moisture, surging over wave by wave.

Faintly, it heard the calls for "Nicolas."

The devotee let out a relieved sigh.

The abnormal fluctuations upon arriving through the temporal-spatial channel had nearly made it think it had arrived at the wrong location. However, the voices calling out "Nicolas" with malice and frenzied thoughts were unmistakable.

"Just a little off, no big deal, no big deal." The devotee thought to itself, cheerfully moving its dozens of hooves toward the source of the noise, raising its head, puffing up its chest, and spreading its tendrils while striving to exude the aura that a true devotee should possess.

Although it also felt that the true name "Mountain Goat of the Forest" chanted by the distant worshippers might not be entirely correct, the abundant magic energy in the air and the enticing scents fluttering around quickly persuaded this ’thought’ that had long wandered the Deeps of Starry Sky to forgo further contemplation.

Or rather, it never intended to ponder seriously:

"It’s not the first time those believers have gotten my name wrong."

"What does it matter?"

"Intention... As long as the intention is there, that’s enough."

"I am the devotee of the Mother Goddess; I should uphold Her Glory."

"Let me respond to your prayers!"

Behind it, the muddy ground was left with a thick shrubbery and a ground full of goat hoofprints. Hundreds of green hoofprints, all covered in a foul-smelling mucus.

...

...

"Nicolas, you’re nothing more than a mongrel that’s tainted the Oswald family’s bloodline! How dare you challenge the Glory Under the Moon of the nobles?!"

"Nicolas! A man whose surname is not even acknowledged by the Oswalds! To see your name listed alongside our family name is truly the degeneration of the entire wizard world!"

"Look at Nicolas with that stupid expression on his face!"

"Only capable of passively receiving, never proactively exploring their own abilities. Even with talent, it’s wasted. The descendants of Tricksters really can’t shake off the stupidity deep in their souls."

"...Nicolas!"

"Nicolas!"

Lakeside of Bell Lake, a variety of taunts and curses flowed from the mouths of the White-robed, drenching Nicolas’s name in the tumult of voices.

The 3A club was originally comprised of the most fanatical bloodline supremacists from Alpha Academy. To these zealots, being beaten down by a mongrel was more repulsive than being fed excrement.

Their unity was firm when it came to attacking Nicolas.

On the opposite side, the student body of Jiuyou Academy appeared somewhat scattered. Most of them had just been called over by their peers to join in the commotion, with scarcely any figure staunchly defending Nicolas. Even those who stood between the White-robed and Nicolas only did so symbolically, to prevent the others from being too brazen within the academy grounds.

Moreover, many Jiuyou Academy students felt a sense of schadenfreude at that moment due to Nicolas’s behavior during his interview with the Beta Town Post earlier—look, this is the fate of a traitor!