Chapter 10: Boiling Flesh

A heart-wrenching scream rang out as the wooden door connecting to the corridor twisted and shattered like a dirty rag, splattering everywhere with the abrupt entry of a lithe figure dressed in black, wielding a pitch-black long sword.

A round-cornered mahogany table, over a meter wide and five meters long, featured a meticulously cleaned glass surface. Upon it were arrayed dishes containing human and animal limbs—cooked, grilled, or half-cooked, sizzling with steam. Several sets of cutlery hovered in the air, some slicing meat on porcelain plates, while others conveyed the morsels into invisible mouths.

Yes, those transparent things, they were eating.

The splintered wood spread onto the bodies of those transparent creatures, stopping there to outline barely human-shaped silhouettes.

Jeanne crouched, then leaped up like a cat. Her black short cloak fluttered in the leap. The world flipped upside down for a moment—or rather, she did. In mid-air, the Inquisitor could see those invisible things dropping their cutlery, moving their chairs, and trying to leave their seats. "Disgusting things," Jeanne sneered inwardly. Her body traced a parabola, carrying her full weight and the impact force generated by the spin, then she stomped fiercely on the glass surface of the table with one foot.

—CRACK.

A crisp, ear-piercing shattering sound.

The spotless glass, after a moment, emitted a thunderous roar with a dense network of milky white spider webs spreading and fine cracks blossoming, bursting outwards under the impact.

The Inquisitor crashed onto the wooden table, the glass shattering from her foot as the center, splattering like water splashed by a falling boulder. Candlelight reflected on thousands of crystalline fragments, refracting a dangerous yet dazzling chaotic afterglow.

Sharp glass shards bounced off those transparent things, some embedding into their flesh, and some also slashed across the Inquisitor's skin, drawing bright red blood.

Step one, confirm the positions of these things.

Step two, clear the scene.

By the third beat of her heart, while the glass shards were still flying in the air, she pierced through the dust and the steam from the cooked meat, thrusting her sword. With a thud, it penetrated the chest of one of the transparent beings, then, the blade sharply lifted upwards, splitting its head.

The sound was like tearing through a cooked hide.

The double-edged longsword was both long and thin, not looking like it could split bones. But it was indeed unexpectedly sturdy and sharp. The blade effortlessly took the target's life, and black smoke—burning, foul-smelling smoke—poured out from what seemed to be the eyes and mouth. It fell to the ground, becoming a broken corpse.

This black smoke reminded Jeanne of many unpleasant memories.

In the past, when facing dark wizards—their weapons were enchanted that they could burn the soul directly upon piercing the flesh, rather than killing through causing fatal bodily harm.

Now,—am I using their enchantment to destroy my enemies? Jeanne thought, this whole thing's too unreal, if not for the stinging pain from the glass cutting my skin, I'd swear I was just dreaming.

At this moment, she saw a crossbow on the wall side lift up—raised by a transparent shadow with two pieces of broken glass stuck in it. That thing crouched down, aimed, fired, then the crossbow made a sound. An instant later, the Inquisitor leaned over like a female cat, the four-cornered crossbow bolt grazed her shoulder, tore a small piece of skin, and pinned into the wall behind her.  

It cautiously took a step back and continued to reload the crossbow.

"Go to hell—"

Not sure who exactly she was cursing, but Jeanne cursed anyway, then threw her sword. The blade traced a cold arc light in the air, like the spokes of a chariot wheel, spinning and slicing through the thing's chest. Foul black smoke billowed out—black smoke produced by burning souls, and the thing's scream abruptly ceased.

Then, she felt the table beneath her feet tremble slightly, and a low growl of a beast came from behind. Something was wrong, she could guess—that thing had waited for her to throw her long sword before pouncing.

When invisible claws sliced through the air, she kicked up the plates and cooked meat on the table, and scalding soup splashed onto that thing's face, chest, and arms.

A deep howl.

Jeanne put most of her strength into her right hand, gripping its furry wrist tightly, while her other hand quickly reached out and clamped around its neck. The next instant, she pulled down hard, simultaneously lifting her knee for a fierce blow, and the thing's soft cheek directly dented against the hard metal piece.

Her left hand still did not let go, just violently swung the limp body, smashing it into several transparent shadows stepping onto the table.

At the same time, the Inquisitor had leveraged the force to jump to the side of the crossbow, lightly landing on the ground. She pulled the long sword out from the invisible corpse with one hand, stabbed it into the ground, and with the other hand, she gripped the crossbow, aimed—

Wait... this seems unnecessary.

The glass shards that stuck in those transparent things—moving with them— they all stopped.

She heard the transparent 'blood' spurt out, splashing onto the ground. At the same time, she also heard those creatures hissing like a hot frying pan, one after another falling to the ground, onto the scattered glass shards.

—They were boiled, literally 'boiled'.

Jeanne smelled a nauseatingly strong meat aroma. A long time ago, she had seen the same thing—not these transparent creatures, but this spell.

Silent, hidden, deliberately erasing magic fluctuations, difficult to detect until fully activated.

"There's no need to be so vigilant," Salser stepped in, crunching over the glass shards on the ground. Jeanne noticed that his pupils were vertically slitted for a moment, like some demonic lineage, but quickly returned to normal. The Dark wizard walked towards the completely invisible creature corpses on the ground with interest, and casually reminded her,  "The spell was directed at those entities fixated on you, I didn't boil you along with them."

No response.

The Inquisitor stood up silently, watching the Dark wizard hiss as he swallowed those things' souls, like inhaling wisps of gray-white mist.

"Let me guess, one of your comrades fell victim to this spell—perhaps your mentor? Or could it be your secret lover?" Salser glanced at her, "Now is hardly the moment for you to indulge in sentimentality."

"Quit your yapping, and I don't have some secret lover," Jeanne replied unhappily.

"I once harbored a deep affection for a girl," he said cheerfully, "Alas, before we could embark on a lovely physical relationship, she succumbed to madness after contacting the Outer Gods. Eventually, she peeled off her own skin and leaped into an acid pool within the laboratory, declaring her desire to unite with the great gods."

"......Is this some kind of corny joke?"

"If you think so, then so be it."

Salser crouched on the ground, he cut off an arm of a transparent creature—killed by Jeanne, not boiled by him—with the sword blade, and casually tucked it into his chest.

This might be a very good experimental material, worth taking back for analysis.

He looked into Jeanne's eyes, "Should you wish to satiate your hunger, then find some unstained cooked food to pack, and hasten to depart with me. This game of hide-and-seek won't end until the Master of the house is unequivocally dead."

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