Steel met twisted flesh.
The Knight's blade—cold and grey, pulled from coiled shadows—sliced clean through a mass of writhing limbs. Fingers, elbows, and torn sinew erupted in a spray of black blood across the damp floor as the monster recoiled, screeching through a dozen mouths that did not belong to each other.
The monster wavered.
But it didn't fall.
It surged forward.
A wall of mismatched limbs slammed toward the Knight like a collapsing cathedral. He dove beneath the swing, rolled across the slick stone, and rose into a sprint without hesitation. His sword flickered with faint pulses of dark light as he spun mid-run, carving across the creature's ribcage—or what might have once been a ribcage. It was impossible to tell where bone ended and butchery began.
The monster shrieked again—but not from pain.
From confusion.
From the sheer noise of its own existence.
Too many voices.
Too many mouths.
Too many souls pressed into one twisted shell.
Some screamed.
Others sang in cracked lullabies.
One voice—young, female—whispered, "Ariana…"
Then silence as her voice drowned under snarls and sobs.
The Knight moved with brutal precision.
He ducked a flailing limb that smashed through a support pillar, sending stone and dust crashing to the floor. Then he stabbed low, driving his blade into a bloated knee stitched with black thread and scars. The limb gave out beneath the monster's weight, and the hulking thing crashed sideways, crushing a rusted table beneath its bulk.
But still—it fought.
Its strength was raw. Unmeasured. Unnatural.
Like a body that had never learned restraint.
Every swing was a wild arc.
Every step shattered stone.
There was no technique. No timing. No grace.
Just chaos and survival.
And that was enough.
The Knight was forced back as four limbs lashed out in unison. One scraped his shoulder hard enough to dent the armor, another crashed against his gauntlet and jarred the bones in his wrist. He slid backward, boots grinding against the blood-slick floor. A rusted chain twisted beneath his heel like a snake and nearly tripped him.
Then the creature screamed again.
Its wings—those patchwork slabs of bone, arms, and twitching legs—flared open, dragging entire chains from the walls. Not in flight.
In rage.
Then it charged.
The Knight had barely raised his sword when the thing slammed into him like a battering ram. His back hit the far wall hard, and the air fled his lungs. For a moment, all he saw was blurred motion and shadowed pain.
Then came the hands.
Dozens of them. Grabbing. Clutching. Gripping.
Around his arms. His waist. His throat.
Fingers pried at his helm with childlike curiosity.
And the faces leaned in.
Some were stitched to the creature's side. Others were embedded in its chest, its shoulders, even its wings. Every face was different, yet all of them bore the same hollow, pleading eyes.
Their mouths opened.
And from them came the voices of the dead:
"Father..."
"Please..."
"Don't let him hurt me..."
"Help... me..."
"Dear... where are you?!"
"My son... MY SON!!"
The Knight's heart slammed against his ribs.
His arms locked beneath the armor.
He looked—really looked—at the thing holding him.
And he didn't see a monster.
He didn't see a beast.
He saw people.
Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Melded together in agony.
Mouths sewn into skin that didn't belong to them. Eyes blinking out of sync. Bones fused like clay. Fingers stretching toward nothing. Limbs twitching on reflex. One face near his shoulder looked up at him and smiled.
"Hi," it said, small and broken, with a child's voice.
Another face beside it wept, silently.
Its tear ducts no longer worked.
But it tried.
Then came Adraval's voice, sharp and furious:
"Do it!!" he screamed from the other side of the chamber. "Kill him! He's just a relic! An empty knight! CRUSH HIM!!"
And then—
The monster paused.
Every face turned toward Adraval.
Every hand tightened its grip.
The largest mouth—buried deep in its torso—opened wide. Its jaw cracked and shook as it spoke.
"Y… y-yeeess... f... fa-father..."
The words stumbled out like broken teeth falling from bleeding gums.
The Knight froze.
"…What?" he breathed.
His breath fogged the inside of his helm. His chest tightened. His mind screamed.
But Adraval's laughter only grew louder.
The monster pulled the Knight tighter, whispering with so many mouths at once.
"Father... Father... Father…am I doing good?"
The Knight's armored hands snapped upward.
He grabbed two of the limbs holding him and began to crush them. Steel ground against flesh. Bones crunched beneath his grip. The monster wailed.
"F-Father!! He's hurting me!!" it sobbed, its many voices overlapping.
"You useless mass of meat!" Adraval shrieked. "DO SOMETHING!"
The Knight twisted his body and broke free, his shoulder knocking aside a smaller limb. He rolled to his feet and reformed his blade instantly, shadows swirling up from his gauntlet like smoke summoned by fury.
He didn't hesitate.
He charged.
His blade flashed through the air as he tore through a cluster of limbs, severing three at once. Blood sprayed. The faces screamed—some in agony, some in confusion, others simply howled.
"GAHHHHRAGHHHHH!"
But the monster wasn't his focus anymore.
Adraval was.
The Knight bolted forward, his armored feet slamming against stone. The massive beast gave chase behind him, screeching, crawling with its dozens of arms to keep up.
"Shit!" Adraval cursed, stumbling backward, slipping in his own blood. "You're too fast!"
The Knight closed the gap.
His sword came forward, aimed at Adraval's heart, ready to pierce through silk and bone alike.
But—
The blade hit flesh.
Just not Adraval's.
The creature had thrown itself in the way.
The sword dug deep into the monster's side, impaling it.
Its eyes—all of them—looked down at the blade. Then at the Knight.
"...Father...?"
Adraval cackled from behind its back.
"Ha… AHAHAHA!!" he laughed, eyes wide with euphoria. "Even now! They still love me more than death! Isn't that beautiful!?"
The Knight's fury burned beneath his helm.
He yanked the blade free.
Black blood sprayed across his chestplate.
"Tch..."
The Knight stepped back, steadied himself, and raised his blade once more.