The Cornflower Witch

Book 2: Chapter 97: Climbing Up the 'Mortar'

Vol 2 Chapter 97 Climbing Up the 'Mortar'

The gale howled, iron chains swayed in the air, emitting desolate clanking sounds.

This was a steep canyon within the Darkmist Mountains. The cliff walls on both sides looked as if cleaved by a blade, the individual stones sharp-edged and jagged.

Below the cliff walls was a pitch-black canyon bottom impossible to see. It was difficult to spot any footholds within one's line of sight. Either they were shrouded by black mist, like an abyss, or they were sharp, sword-like, upright spires of rock.

This was the 'Ironwall Precipice' garrison, one of the chasms connecting the interior and exterior of the Darkmist Mountains, and also one of the six most dangerous frontline outposts the Hidden Grove maintained within the Darkmist Mountains.

On the gray-iron walkways fused with the cliff wall, soldiers patrolled holding torches. The burning flames within these torches appeared like tiny, ant-like red dots against the massive cliff walls and canyon, flickering in and out of sight amidst the night and mist.

The environment here was harsh. The 'Ironwall Precipice' garrison was built directly onto the cliff walls on either side of the giant canyon. It could be said it was a garrison forcibly carved out of the steep and desolate rock faces.

Between the cliffside fortresses on both sides, they were connected by thick iron-chain catwalks. Only once every few days would a small team brave the violent canyon winds, traverse the catwalks, and deliver supplies or information.

In the past, during the Rising Wind Season, the environment here was relatively calm. But with the arrival of the Gale Season, the living conditions at the 'Ironwall Precipice' garrison grew increasingly severe and difficult.

As days passed, the mountain winds grew stronger and stronger. The roaring sound would drown out the conversation of soldiers on the walkways."Hoo—" Hot breath fogged up the inside of a helmet visor.

Several soldiers, having finished their patrol, sat resting inside an observation post. A charcoal fire burned within this small post, emitting a faint warmth that allowed their weary minds to relax.

"I'm going to lean back and sleep for a bit." One soldier shifted his body, leaning against the back of the circular bench, his head lolling to one side. He soon began to snore.

"This guy's snoring again." A companion nearby added a bit more charcoal to the fire, also feeling drowsy.

"Should we sleep too? No one's going to come here anyway."

"Right."

The remaining three soldiers were also somewhat fatigued. With no one objecting, they all leaned back against the bench, slouching this way and that, finding comfortable positions to rest.

The charcoal in the stove emitted a dim red glow. The cold wind outside the window continued to howl relentlessly, occasionally bringing in a few ice pellets and snowflakes.

Amidst the wind and snow that seemed to drown the world, the roughly two-thousand-meter-high cliff wall stood immutable, radiating a gray, cold hue.

At the base of the cliff wall, however, some strange 'gray sludge' was slowly moving upward through the wind and snow. They were utterly silent. If not for their slowly changing position, one might mistake them for gray dirt on the cliff face.

Despite their slow speed, aided by the canyon gales, these 'gray sludge' inched closer and closer to the upper levels of the cliff wall, drawing nearer and nearer to the walkways embedded within the rock.

Another afternoon arrived. The soldiers accustomed to napping in the observation post rested there as usual today.

But today, several 'gray sludge' crept over the windowsill of the observation post, slowly spilling inside. They crawled sluggishly like slugs, then made their way to the sleeping soldiers, silently clinging to their bodies and slowly merging into the inner layers of their clothing.

...

For some reason, over the past few days, patrolling soldiers felt themselves getting unusually tired. Often, upon returning, they would even forget to eat, collapsing into bed and falling into a deep, heavy sleep.

Fortunately, this wasn't happening to just one person. Several companions patrolling together experienced similar conditions.

"Probably just too exhausted lately," one companion said, yawning.

"The wind is strong. Walking on the cliffside walkways in full armor is especially cold and tiring."

"I think so too," the remaining companion agreed.

Since everyone was the same, it surely wasn't his own problem. The soldier thus continued his usual work and life with peace of mind, until one day...

"What? An entire squad, all found dead asleep in the observation post?"

The commander of 'Ironwall Precipice' stood up in shock, pacing back and forth in the room.

"Were they frozen to death? Or was there an attack, some kind of accident?"

Several high-ranking officers of the outpost were also in the room, discussing based on the received report.

"No visible wounds were found on their bodies. When discovered, there were still remnants of charcoal burning in the stove. They likely weren't frozen to death."

"Later, we had the garrison's physicians examine them. He said their deaths were probably due to extreme exhaustion and nutritional deficiency."

"Exhaustion I understand, but nutritional deficiency? Didn't they eat? The garrison's food supplies are indeed a bit tight, but we're not at famine levels yet."

"According to people they usually interacted with, and reports from the mess hall staff, they did forget to eat several times, but only several times. They still ate something every day."

"Truly strange..."

The group couldn't reach a substantial conclusion. But over the following month, several similar incidents occurred one after another. This situation finally raised the garrison personnel's alertness.

"This is absolutely not a normal accident. There is some force or creature in the shadows, attacking and reducing our personnel!" The garrison's highest commander issued an order, placing the garrison on immediate lockdown and organizing a specialized team to investigate.

After the incident, days passed. More people died subsequently, and some members began reporting their own recent abnormal states.

Gradually, the true culprit behind the patrol soldiers' deaths began to surface.

"To think it's such an inconspicuous thing."

During a high-level meeting within the garrison, everyone gathered around a transparent glass cage, observing the 'gray sludge' crawling incessantly inside.

"Its form is not fixed and can change at will, mimicking many things," a scholar nearby reported, holding the investigation results.

"The most dangerous aspect is that they do not emit any significant 'Aspect' aura. They have no heartbeat, no blood, not even organs. If encountered on the roadside, they're basically like stones, drawing no attention whatsoever."

"But in reality, once they get close to a human or other living creature, they slowly absorb nutrients and energy, causing fatigue and hunger, ultimately leading to death."

"Are there any methods to deal with them?"

"If using flames, extremely high temperatures are required to kill them. Spells capable of reaching such temperatures can only be cast by a small portion of 'Blazing Sun' Aspect practitioners, and they easily cause damage to structures and the environment," the scholar shook his head.

"Next, there's chopping with blades or axes. While it can cut them, it merely splits them. The two separated pieces of gray sludge still possess a certain vitality and can continue to exist."

"Finally, freezing. If the temperature is extremely low, it can indeed suppress their activity, but it won't kill them."

"So, apart from gathering them together and incinerating them with extremely high heat, there's no other good solution?"

"It's difficult. Their Aspect origin is likely 'Fungal Threads'. But under the pollution and erosion of the Monstrous Sea, they underwent countless mutations and distortions within the abyss. Their current Aspect has shifted to 'Distortion'. Furthermore, any monster that can survive in that environment has its own unique survival methods. Conventional means are hard-pressed to eliminate them."

"These gray sludges range in strength from 'First Tier' to 'Third Tier', and they can also continuously divide. I'm afraid they are extremely difficult to eradicate completely."

"This..."

"If captured, they can indeed be processed with high heat. But right now, they are everywhere within Ironwall Precipice. Perhaps in some corner crevice, under some floorboard. Their Aspect signature is extremely faint, fragmented to the extreme. We simply cannot clean them out completely."

"Moreover, if the cleanup is incomplete, given a little time, they will flare up again and spread everywhere."

"So troublesome..." The commander held his head.

Several minutes later, he sat up straight and addressed those present.

"Request assistance from the association headquarters in the rear. This problem is no longer something we can solve on our own."

"Yes, sir."