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墨書 Inktalez
With a faint sound, John widened his eyes, eagerly anticipating a scene of blood splattering everywhere. However, the reality was completely unexpected. What gushed from the wound was not bright red blood, but a foul-smelling pus that emitted a nauseating odor.
This vile liquid shot forth in a perfect parabolic arc, drenching John with astonishing speed. In an instant, the stench enveloped the entire space, as if it were a thick fog of disgust.
"Ugh, I can't take it... ugh..."
John let out a painful retching sound. His heightened senses, naturally sharper than those of ordinary people, were overwhelmed by the intensely pungent smell that hit him like a wall. It was as if he were standing next to a pair of socks that had not been washed for ten days in the wild. In that moment, all his strength drained away.
He collapsed to the ground, as if his soul had been sucked out, completely powerless to resist. Despair filled his mind:
Is this really the kind of monster that can be easily dealt with by anyone at the Half-Step Transcendent level, as described in the Monster Encyclopedia?
The person who wrote that Monster Encyclopedia either never saw this kind of creature or was like Krillin from Dragon Ball, completely lacking a nose and unable to sense this horrendous stench!
Seeing the situation deteriorate, Kuiradi rushed forward and desperately pulled up the limp John before hastily retreating backward. Despite Kuiradi's unwavering loyalty to John, charging toward such a foul-smelling and terrifying mass was beyond his psychological limits.
"Everyone throw your spears! Kill it! If we don't kill it, we’ll be the ones dying—and it will be disgusting!"
Kuiradi shouted hoarsely to the soldiers nearby. One hand held John while the other covered his mouth and nose; he couldn't help it—the stench from John was unbearable, like canned herring exploding in a popcorn machine.
Hearing the command, the soldiers dared not delay, fearing they would meet the same fate as Lord John. Fifty soldiers swiftly hurled their spears backward; they flew through the air and struck the Stench Mud Monster with precision.
The scene fell silent as everyone held their breath (it was too ugly), staring at the motionless Stench Mud Monster. They wanted to swallow but feared they would vomit instead.
Is it dead? It must be dead; so many hits surely landed.
That said, no one dared to step forward, afraid of getting splattered themselves. Even if they only got a bit of yellow mud on them, who could explain whether it was feces?
"I'll go! Let me go!"
John finally managed to rise after regaining some composure. Grabbing an enchanted spear, he strode confidently toward the Stench Mud Monster.
Seeing his subordinates silently encouraging themselves behind him made John smile. He wasn't afraid anymore; once you had come into contact with something like this, it no longer mattered. The fear lay only in that initial moment before contact with filth.
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