Chapter 86. Dark Deeds and Poisoned Wounds.

Third Level.

I dropped to my knees the moment I materialized on the teleportation platform, coughing up crimson droplets.

My stomach coiled in agony, a cold sheen of sweat formed on my back. I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief, got unsteadily to my feet, and surveyed the desolate garden, its once-vibrant flora now gutted and withered.

Purple droplets fell from my armor with a disconcerting clink, and each unsteady step confirmed my debilitated state. The absorption of fel, especially in such quantities for a Dark Elf, was a severe ordeal.

The stone-flagged path led to an arched gateway where seasoned informants often lingered. They peddled vital knowledge to newcomers, knowledge that might be second nature to veterans but could mean life or death for the uninitiated.

My keen elven senses detected a peculiar scent in the air, and I caught the curious glances of yellow eyes upon me as I passed by the informants.

Clearly, something had transpired in my absence, but I couldn't dwell on it now. I needed to find a place to recuperate.

My hair was tangled, and the blood of my adversaries had dried upon my armor, giving my silhouette a dull, matte appearance. As I walked past metal railings adorned with beating hearts, my gaze settled upon Inga's inn.

Under different circumstances, I would never have set foot in this place.

Inga's inn was notorious for its cacophony of agonizing screams, interspersed with bursts of mad laughter from its patrons. Other times by Inga herself, who could rival a rabid beast in her vocal prowess.

Beautiful and grotesque, brilliant and absurdly foolish—Inga reigned over the northern sector of the Third Level. Officially, The Infernal Legion supposedly monopolized the entire territory, but she was one of the few who could thrive amid the ceaseless battlegrounds, securing her place at the precipice of the Alliance.

Gasping for breath, I refocused on the present.

The four-story edifice, its windows shattered against the darkened sky, bore an eerie resemblance to a scene from a horror film. Sections of wooden planks, metal sheets, and assorted materials seemed to barely stave off the structure's impending collapse.

A lengthy staircase in the center led to the building's entrance.

The timeworn door groaned open, and a slender leg, gripping a wooden plank, extended outward. Crimson nails on slender fingers clawed beneath the crevice.

"Ahah," a delighted chuckle reverberated, though it bore an eerie undertone. "Who graces us with their presence tonight, sir?"

A voluptuous nymph emerged from the shadows, her crimson lips situated on her torso, her shoulders extending into legs twisted in the opposite direction. Inga moved about with the aid of her hands, her palms grotesquely contorted, fingers atrophied into withered twigs. Only freshly applied varnish hinted at any form of care.

Her bosom undulated with every step, intermittently revealing her bottomless azure eyes and then veiling them once more behind a curtain of soft, supple flesh.

I shook my head, replying with a hint of disdain, "Kai Theron."

The creature drew too near, and her scarlet dress strained against feeble fastenings, attempting to wriggle free from a meager grasp, revealing her full allure.

The sweet scent of blooming pears wafted to my nostrils, prompting me to retreat a step. Meeting Inga's gaze, I warned in a hushed tone, "Just a room, no additional services."

"Ah, splendid, splendid," Inga responded, executing a 180-degree turn. She lightly brushed her heel against my forehead, causing me to tilt my head backward. My gaze fell upon her dusky buttocks, partially concealed by a lacy fabric

My eyebrows twitched, a physical manifestation of my internal conflict as I stood before Inga, her strange allure contrasting with the forgotten and desolate place.

"We weren't expecting anyone. Lately, there have been fewer and fewer visitors," the creature lamented, propping the door open with her left knee. Her ample bosom pressed against my shoulder as she turned around, revealing wide-open eyes. "Members of the Bloodthirsty Alliance are here. They've taken the top floor."

"I see," I replied, my stomach growling, my body itching uncomfortably. At this moment, I couldn't care less about the identity of the guests in this forsaken place. "Just bring me some water."

"Okay. Healingl water?" Inga inquired as she approached a counter with a moldy surface. "And how many days will you be staying?"

"Yes, healingl water. I can't say for sure how long," I responded, tossing Spiritual stones onto the counter. "I've taken the entire second floor, and I don't want to be disturbed. I'll call you if I need anything."

Gathering talismans from the counter to summon her workers, I began to ascend the creaky, dilapidated staircase. The walls were marred with mold, and dried plants dangled from the ceiling, their black buds emitting an unusual scent, serving as makeshift incense.

Holding my breath, I ventured into the first room, booting open the door. Inside, there was a bed with a steel frame, a wooden pillow, and a soiled bedspread crumpled in one corner beneath the darkening ceiling.

Using my foot, I closed the door behind me and laid out a warm blanket on the floor. With painstaking care, I began to remove my armor. The slug's malevolent touch lingered; its corrosive essence had penetrated my armor, reached my skin, and now festered.

My abdomen bore discolored, swollen welts and deep punctures. With a clean cloth clenched between my teeth, I meticulously extracted the living dark mass from my wounds, a parasitic entity that had burrowed into my muscles, sapping my endurance and regenerative abilities.

A knock echoed at the door, followed by the sound of splashing water, indicating the arrival of the inn's workers. While donning a bathrobe, I discovered a group of black spiders carrying a round tub and several buckets of water. They had even thoughtfully provided soap and bath accessories, placing them next to the bed and awaiting my instructions.

"Thank you. You may go," I grunted, dismissing the industrious arachnids.

The spiders synchronized their movements, forming the phrase, "Thank you for using Inga's services."

With a dismissive gesture, I sent the peculiar workers on their way, closing the door behind them. Shedding my robe, I filled the tub and added a faceted glass of an iridescent liquid, which transformed the murky water into a crystalline, azure hue.

Clean blood began to ooze from my wounds, calming my agitated mind. Closing my eyes, I finally succumbed to slumber.

My slumber was abruptly shattered by a heart-rending scream, accompanied by the sound of sweaty heels pounding on the wall and grotesque, squelching noises. Laughter emanated from beneath the bed next to me, and I rose from the cold bed with a hiss.

"Get out," I commanded, my voice cutting through the eerie atmosphere

Yawning, I stepped onto the terry blanket and donned dark attire. Descending the stairs, I observed shadows dancing upon the ceiling. A black bud fell upon my head, prompting the activation of Poisonous Arrows, and I promptly impaled the mischievous jester to the stairwell.

"If you wish to stay, I can assist with that," I warned.

"Awake now?" Inga stood behind the counter, her legs crossed to the right, her bosom snugly encased, a solitary crystalline droplet gliding between her cleavage.

iI affirmed.

Exiting the building, I finally uttered, "I won't be returning."

[You've slept for two days. Not far from the center, there are members of The Infernal Legion and the Bloodthirsty. They seem to be gearing up for a confrontation.]

Taking flight, I watched the landscape below transform. The first sparkling stars dotted the horizon, gradually growing brighter before erupting in burning sparks.

The skeletons beat me to it, forming a protective circle around the enraged Gena and Madeleine.

"I challenge you to a fight!" The skeletons struggled to contain the beast's overwhelming power.

Standing nearby, I observed the seething group of Bloodthirsty.

"Do you think you can justify this unfair fight?!" the creature barked, blood dripping profusely. A gloomy, purplish blob splatted onto the stone surface.

I turned my gaze to Madeleine, eyebrows raised inquisitively. She hesitated, but the beast with the fractured horns spoke up for her, "They fought worse than creatures dwelling in the darkest abyss of the Arena. They didn't just reject the union's plea, they betrayed their saviors."

"I didn't intend to... it wasn't on purpose," Madeleine stammered, her lips trembling with venom.

Gena, shielding her with his body, growled, "You're saying it's not your fault?"

"What have we accomplished?" beast pondered aloud. "We saved ungrateful wretches. I must admit, this has turned out to be a truly disastrous idea."

Accusations continued to fly, the audience delivering their judgments.

From the conversations, I gathered some of the details. The venomous avenger, fleeing from her enemies, inadvertently contaminated her rescuers with potent toxins.

Gena shed light on the treacherous tactics employed by the Bloodthirsty, who had used them as bait and attempted to sic the giants on them.

Supporting the wounded creature, the three-legged beast concluded the discussion.

"Tomorrow. At noon."

On the Third Level, there were designated locations for creatures to engage in combat off the Battlefield.

"I'll silence these lying mouths once and for all," Gena declared, his stance resolute and composed. There was hardly a hint of the internal turmoil that surely must have been wracking his meridians.

Had he mistakenly absorbed tainted blood?