novelraw Chapter 143: Don't Look at Me
Chapter 143: Don't Look at Me
Just hearing the densely packed noises from outside the building was enough to make one's scalp tingle. It sounded as if countless enlarged cockroaches had covered the house you lived in, making you afraid that in the ensuing second, they would scurry onto your face or somewhere on your body. But what loitered nearby right now were not just disgusting cockroaches, but monsters that would legitimately claim your life.
"Damn it! Damn it! I told you we shouldn't have come out!"
"I feel like they're everywhere!"
Fisher walked at the very forefront. Above the stairwell, human limbs convulsed incessantly, grasping toward the people running below like they were snatching up toys. However, every time, before they could touch the people below, a sharp gleam of light would slash past, chopping off and bisecting those limbs.
He paid no mind to the group of nagging youths behind him. As long as they had followed him out, there was no turning back. All they could do was protect the loved ones by their sides.
The Goat-Man gripping the dagger followed frantically behind Fisher, evaluating the monsters that incessantly bounded through the darkness. The light scattering from the walking stick hoisted in Roger's hands unintentionally illuminated the adjacent wall. Up there, the face situated dead center of a Human-Insect's body faced him, exposing a stiff and malevolent visage.
Within the monster's irises that housed nothing but the whites of its eyes, the silhouette of that gentleman wielding the Fluid Sword was reflected.
"Fisher! S-Something's wrong! Look quickly!"
Mere seconds later, Roger's words prompted Fisher to look at the window on the stairwell wall. Outside, monster after monster stretched their palms inward, only to quickly be chopped off by Fisher. Nevertheless, they acted as if devoid of pain. Even with an entire segment of their bodies missing, they remained firm and unshakeable in dashing toward the people in the rear.
Numerous monsters flooded downward from above, clambering in from the window to the side."Help! Something grabbed my shoulder!"
A Schwalian lady in the back screamed loudly. Fisher raised his hand, slicing the blade toward the monster that had extended its venomous hand. Seeing more and more monsters galloping up from behind to snatch at them, Fisher glanced at the space above. It seemed the monsters above were fewer than the monsters below.
Fisher and Roger—one brandishing his weapon to cleave nearby monsters, the other unleashing magic from the walking stick—battled it out. In this way, weathering the continuously assaulting monsters in the dark, the group sprinted all the way up to the stairwell linking the third and fourth floors. Right as they were on the cusp of arriving at the fourth floor, an accident suddenly struck.
Just as Fisher was covering the others running upward, a brightly blinking magic crest ignited upon the adjacent wall. A pale blue beam of light fired toward the crowd. After detonating the heads of several monsters, the magic light that was on the verge of fading abruptly poured straight onto the Goat-Man running in dead last.
"H-Help..."
He suddenly pitched over, flopping face-first across the trailing few steps of the staircase in one solid plunge. The people out front were darting uncommonly fast. Only when the Goat-Man parted his lips to howl for rescue did Fisher register that a single individual had been isolated in the rear. Those monsters rapidly seized the Goat-Man's four limbs, dragging him downward.
"Damn it, forget about that Demi-Human. We're almost there."
"He is just Mr. Crow's slave. We must go quickly!"
The several youths bringing up the rear had already bolted to the fringe of the fourth floor. Registering the situation behind them, they howled at Fisher in this manner. Fisher remained silent for one second, then looked toward Roger at the team's vanguard and shouted,
"It's just the final leg of the journey. Can you get them back?"
"Ah?" Roger wiped the sweat from his forehead. He cast a glance at the final remaining tens of meters of the corridor, nodding his head as he said, "I can... I saw that they're currently arranging Barrier Magic over there. They might not be capable of emerging to provide aid; Serena's magic capacity is limited. Why don't we just say to hell with that Goat-Man..."
"Exactly. Let's head back with haste. That pack of guys from below is about to catch up!"
Fisher threw a look at the Goat-Man, whose complexion had unfurled into profound despair owing to their exchange. Holding his silence for one second, he thrust his hand toward Roger and said,
"Give me the walking stick!"
Roger hurriedly chucked the gleaming walking stick from his hands downward. Snagging it, Fisher hopped down. Flanked by the shrieks of the host of monsters, Roger watched helplessly as Fisher—hoisting that light source—charted a course toward the third floor in pursuit of the dragged Goat-Man.
"Is that guy mentally ill? For a mere Demi-Human..."
"Shut your mouth! If you yammered a smidgen less you might pull more weight than that Goat-Man, you coward!"
Registering that the Schwalian youth neighboring him was gearing up for follow-up complaints, Roger swiftly rebuked him with a frigid expression. Nevertheless, he absolutely didn't dare to maintain pursuit downward. Tucking faith in Fisher's proficiency enabling a safe return trip, resolving the extraction of these individuals remained the singular agenda on his plate.
It was rather bizarre. Spanning from the exact juncture of Fisher's departure, those horrifying monsters entirely seemed to take temporary leave of them. Every single one pounded an aggressive route tracking the third floor's coordinates, operating identical to if they were legitimately, unequivocally only tracking down Fisher.
Roger led the massive clump of individuals in a dash concluding at the room's doorway. Circling this clock, tier upon tier of deep-white halos rippled across the room's access point. Stowed within, sporting a distinctly pallid complexion, Serena was charting protective magic. This barrier possessed the capacity to quarantine this room from infiltration.
Serena isolated lacked sufficient magic power, effectively relegating the juxtaposed Caro to drifting over and augmenting the process.
Prince Lausanne scanned the side profile of Caro's face, suddenly parting his lips to query,
"You are not an ordinary attendant?"
"What about it? It's not like I'm here to kill you. Having someone to protect you, you should be laughing secretly."
That line successfully coaxed a chuckle out of Prince Lausanne. He squatted adjacent to Caro. Oblivious to whether she utilized perfume, Lausanne consistently detected an agreeable scent.
It was at this moment that a dense patter of footsteps echoed from out past the door. Kaine rose to his feet and said,
"It's Fisher and the others returning!"
The door panels hinged ajar, exposing the silhouettes of the Schwari scholars' families, alongside that exact iteration of Roger—panting for breath and lathered in cold sweat. However, Fisher and that male Goat-Man were exclusively missing from the lineup.
"Dad!"
"Oh, heavens! My son."
Prince Lausanne cast his gaze yonder, suddenly wrinkling his brows ere querying,
"Where is Mr. Fisher?"
"Yes, and where is my precious goat? You damned lot couldn't possibly have abandoned him completely solitary downstairs, right? No! He'll be devoured by that pack of monsters!"
Roger wiped his sweat. Before he could even speak, a youth situated toward the rear chipped in,
"He morphed into an idiot just for the sake of that solitary Goat-Man, and darted to the third floor! Originally, he commanded the capacity to journey up alongside us. He chose it of his own volition!"
Prince Lausanne's brows scrunched progressively tighter. Casting a lone glance downing that adolescent, the prince's innate majesty spooked him completely speechless on the spot. Resolving how to rescue Fisher charted the standing predicament now. Lausanne hadn't formally unsealed his mouth yet ere that Schwari scholar stripped of his Goat-Man slave wrathfully shoved up his sleeves.
"You damned Lotus! How dare you speak of my goat like that! I knew from your dad long ago that you're nothing but a prodigal son! You have zero use beyond utilizing your father's cash to whore around. You dregs! You scum! How can you lack a single sliver of sympathy? He is a life as well!"
"Piss off, Crow, you perverted homosexual who likes Demi-Humans!"
The volume of bickering inside the room ratcheted unceasingly upward. Prince Lausanne tracked similarly closer to the terminus of his tolerance. Clinching his fists, he strapped into a disposition poised to detonate on a hair trigger.
"Enough!"
Inside the room, a light shout clamped down on their squabble.
The youngster, Lotus, along with that Schwari scholar, Crow, both snagged into blankness for a split second. Even the facial muscles of Prince Lausanne adjoining them halted dead, given the architect of this current conversational interjection belonged not to some other individual, but perfectly corresponded to that historically mute, unspeaking female student—Jasmine.
Jasmine was panting for breath ever so slightly. Ignorant as to whether that prior quip or towering rage barred her from settling her composure, nestled within the pitch blackness, she hurled a thoroughly enraged glare carving through both factions. Lacking a solitary word, she cast the books strapped across her frame down to the flooring, tracking an unerringly straight vector bridging past that flock of people straight out the room.
Functioning as the chancellor, Kaine intended to intercept her. Surpassing logical architecture, however—post bearing witness to that flash of shimmering blue within Jasmine's irises—he miraculously proved bankrupt of ensuing maneuvers. He quietly anchored his gaze tracking Jasmine marching out of the room. Subsequently sealing the door panels shut, her exit solely bequeathed an impossibly flat phrase,
"I will go find Professor Fisher."
The interior environment lapsed into tranquility. Prince Lausanne glanced across the operatives anchored to Saint-Nazareth University, utterly lost decoding the current circumstances. Could that female student tally as an agent pre-arranged by Nari's specialized intelligence outfits mapping their continuous security? Dictating exactly why this posse proved unwilling to deal out intercepts?
Several solid seconds elapsed ere that Lotus guy curled his lips, hissing in a low volume,
"Yet another one charting a vector to throw their life away..."
"You damned mongrel cur! Today, I'll administer the discipline your daddy failed to dish out upon you!"
Cursed as a perverted homosexual, Crow expectorated a gob of spit. As swift as words could relay, he launched his arm outward, delivering a solid punch straight to that youth. Flattening the kid utterly devoid of warning, he straddled the guy's frame, raining a relentless beating down upon his facial features.
"You rude little brat! I demand that you apologize to my goat! Quickly! Apologize!"
"Lunatic! Absolutely crazy! Let me go! Dad! Mom! This man is crazy!"
In the pitch-black environs, Fisher's face sat freezing. Pinched in his left fist was the walking stick; marshaled in his right rested the midnight Fluid Sword. Slipping clean past one decapitated or dismembered Human-Insect stacked upon the next smoothly replicating mincing melons and vegetables. Succumbing to the flooring, those Human-Insects ejected impossibly savage stenches. Concurrently giving chase tracking the Goat-Man mapping the forefront, Fisher's mental architecture charted rapid-fire strategic deductions.
These beasts harmonized exceedingly with the Human-Insects previously subjected to Eliog's pursuit. Did this conclusively outline that the individual orchestrating from behind the Pink Pavilion was fundamentally the sinner currently absorbing Eliog's hunt?
Based on previously acquired intelligence, the figure tracking the Pink Pavilion's strings seemed functionally restricted to Captain Blake, that 'First Pioneer'. Anchored to the era where he charted the Holy Maiden Ship vaulting boundlessly across the expanse of the world, breaching demon territory tallied as a legitimate probability. Tracking this vector, did the identity of the person snared in Eliog's pursuit correspond to him?
Furthermore, extrapolating from the eldritch complexity coding these creations, could that guy possess a Completion Handbook as well?
Fisher's mental trajectories proved unceasing. Synchronously, he clamped down on a tactical window, dialing his crosshairs tracing the arm of that designated monster hauling the Goat-Man mapping the fore. Severing outward utilizing that Fluid Sword in one uniform arc, that mercury-derived blade instantly elongated mid-orbit, bisecting that arm utterly analogous to a stream of water.
Squealing, the Goat-Man slammed onto the exact position. Fisher paced sluggishly aligning to his perimeter, querying,
"You okay?"
That Goat-Man stole a glance charting Fisher, blushing nominally whilst shaking his head. Nonetheless, Fisher failed entirely to peg him within his sights. Pegged to this specific coordinate in time, Fisher commenced diagnosing that the encapsulating corridors were actually engaging in a sluggish distortion. Eclipsing the sheer corridor distortion, it compounded to integrate universally inclusive toward those unsealed rooms.
It appeared the architect setting this magic decoded that the constituents positioned on the upper levels were deploying Barrier Magic. Cognizant that marshaling solely these monsters would unequivocally fail to carve a breach, the blueprint transitioned tracking splitting the localized dimensional matrix, collapsing the crests currently undergoing release.
Predictably aligned with expectations, upon the ensuing second, the geographic flooring initiated rotational parameters mapping a Rubik's Cube. Jerking his head orienting skyward, Fisher stared down the stark reality that the walling encapsulating the room historically archiving the silver mirror actually disintegrated outright. The rooms mapping the holistic structure's entirety were undergoing real-time systemic reorganization. Suspended mid-orbit, Fisher observed high-altitude rooms tracking ballistic vectors to plunging baselines, accompanied by the constituents housed within.
"It's Fisher! He's over there!"
Fisher registered the occupants stowed within the room. Swiftly, he hoisted the Goat-Man flanked closely adjoining him upward. Punctuated by the panic-stricken shrieks sourced universally from Scholar Crow and the Goat-Man, Fisher pitched that Goat-Man hurtling unceremoniously tracking that broad vector.
This configuration guaranteed they would congregate jointly, excusing himself to track back and systematically reconnect.
"Oh, my precious goat baby! You've finally returned to my side!"
"Mr. Crow..."
The Goat-Man was lobbed executing pinpoint accuracy directly into the room's constraints. A meager clump of garbled conversational segments carried over from that end.
Pivoting the spotlight tracking Fisher, he re-engaged mobility parameters. Factoring the current timestamp, the unadulterated holistic tier network initiated inversions. Historically grounded parsing the fourth floor, they were plotting a trajectory charting descent, visually poised to plunge aligning the first floor. Positioned tracking the third floor, Fisher inverted entirely contrary to those mechanics, ballisticizing straight up.
Fisher watched that sequentially dropping room. Fixating upon it abruptly crystallized something amiss. Prince Lausanne had been perpetually dispatching sentences routing his position, yet crippled by the compounding obfuscations of severe darkness and sweeping distance, Fisher fundamentally tripped resolving the audio in the moment, solely grasping that he harbored some critical communiqué to unload on his plate.
Jolted into awareness, Fisher mapped the room visually, abruptly grasping what skewed off-kilter. Over there, unbeknownst traversing which specific milestone, that small animal-esque Jasmine had vanished without a trace.
Tracking back targeting Prince Lausanne's vectors, he maintained perpetual finger-pointing charting his position. Did this codify Jasmine routing over tracking him down?
The room submerged comprehensively, dissolving tracking Fisher's optic bounds. Sustaining a freezing expression, Fisher wrenched the Demi-Human Completion Handbook free. Atop its plane, illusory text surged up stacking layer upon layer.
[Please select research subject 0/2]
[Jasmine, Juvenile Whale-kin]
She was right perfectly within the vicinity!
Faintly, Fisher once again caught the shrieking of that pack of monsters. Following his head snap routing observation, within the pitch blackness, countless mangled monster extremities launched forcefully outward in a reverse plunge, effectively synonymous precisely with catching a typhoon. Anchoring Fisher's bewildered optics, the corridor walling exhibited the shimmering projection of an astronomically gigantic whale tail phantom.
That phantom functionally teetered on the precipice of dismantling this entire building. Within the succeeding second, a human silhouette seemingly undulating cleanly straight out of the very air materialized tracking Fisher's frontal flank.
That categorized as a young girl boasting a titanic whale tail. The maiden's conventionally silken black hair had transformed utterly, usurped by a deep blue entirely embodying the ocean. Isolated universally tracking pitch darkness at this definitive timestamp, Fisher sequentially cataloged her whale tail, up to and integrating her cranial region, flickering harboring pinpricks of fluorescent light.
Sprouting out routing from the girl's cerulean hair, two elongated, jet-black ears stretched outward, conversely harboring parallel elliptical white speckles tracing the ears' terminuses. Factoring a swift glance within the abyss, the aesthetics replicated that specific whale's eyes flawlessly.
Yet those conclusively skipped billing as eyes, fundamentally because the girl's dual pupils glowed at this immediate moment. Her maiden visage transported a frigid, murderous chill. Her irises flickered integrating black water streams replicating the abyss, comprehensively scattering that adorable small animal aura into the abyss, swapping into the frosty chill typical of a hunter.
However, the genuinely focal point arresting Fisher's attention lay in determining whether the girl's previously pride-inducing majestic softness had contracted or something identical. Shockingly, it diminished across numerous scales!
That girl structurally manifesting an astronomically oversized whale tallied strictly as Fisher's student, Jasmine.
Previously, Fisher had painstakingly, relentlessly campaigned chasing down the secret regarding Jasmine constituting a marine Demi-Human, vying to force her into rupturing her own facade. It flatly bucked expectations that, plotting this current juncture, she unequivocally materialized leveraging her unadulterated form squarely traversing Fisher's visual scope.
Jasmine's tiny visage was chillingly terrifying. Lightly thrusting her hand upward to pat the walling, that wall fractured completely identically to finding itself incapable of withstanding her titanic strength, sequentially triggering the monsters tucked outside the walling to detonate tracking their craniums, absolutely pulverized by her might.
Striking the immediate ensuing moment, Jasmine's murderous glare riveted immovably tracing Fisher firmly planted at ground zero. Dragging in a breath, she swept routing Fisher parallel flawlessly to an ocean wave.
What on earth was proceeding?
Fisher seemingly awakened to the deduction that Jasmine's current matrix charted notably off-axis, departing astronomically tracking the adorable maiden imagery he conventionally recognized. Conversely, did this legitimately document her unadulterated Whale-kin configuration?
Her tail oscillated a singular sweep tracking mid-air. Tapping an undocumented water source, that walling conveyed a measure of slick moisture. She parallelly plunged tracking Fisher synonymous flawlessly with a behemoth native to the ocean sector.
Fisher hastily scaffolded his walking stick tracing his front. Boring down intently, following the walling adopting water sourced from absolute mystery, it commenced a rapid trajectory of putrefactive decomposition. Tracing the ensuing split-second, a massive kinetic force hijacked Fisher routing him smashing directly tracing the structural rear walling.
"Bang!"
The wall collapsed on impact. Bursts of sharp pain ricocheted across Fisher's physical housing, yet he resolutely locked his undiluted optics tracking the unfeeling maiden Jasmine physically pinning him straight onto the flooring. The ebony locked inside her irises congealed to the extent of fundamentally spilling outward, reviewing Fisher parallel exactly to an assessment of a corpse.
"Jasmine?"
A rift flayed open tracing Fisher's cheek, singular blood droplets racing downward navigating his facial contours. He unsealed his lips sporting a tranquil expression, synchronously fixing Jasmine. Jasmine's irises reflected Fisher's geometric mapping. She registered seemingly a nominal stutter. Tracing the ensuing second, the black water streams housed within her optic boundaries initiated flushes of blue light, aesthetically parallel to that sapphire actively scattering the pitch-black.
In synchronization aligning the color swapping mapping her irises, the bountiful curvature dotting her chest re-initiated expansion, sluggishly transitioning squarely routing her native peerless dimensions.
"Eh? Eh?"
She babbled blankly, structurally parallel absolutely to freshly snapping back stringing consciousness.
Jasmine hastily abandoned the grips pinning Fisher. Subsequent to that, she clutched monitoring her own chest. She evaluated the current environmental snapshot:
Herself, reverted strictly aligning her default layout...
Professor Fisher, currently pinned beneath her frame whilst injured parallel to the engagement...
The collateral pulverized walling mapping the room's adjacency...
Her complexion marched unceasingly ruddier; uniformly her orbital rims adopted a subtle blush. The whale tail trailing behind her patted sequentially, ultimately draping bridging Fisher's knees. Compounding the dynamic, her bipedal legs concurrently endured, conclusively denoting she was quite literally perched squarely directly routing Fisher's biology.
"I'm... I'm so sorry... Professor Fisher, I... don't..."
Frantically hooking her non-human ear assemblies and sweeping tail, the crimson mapped to her visage sluggishly segued outlining absolute grievance. Tears unremittingly commenced plummeting.
"I... I fundamentally exclusively drafted tracking you down, yet I failed entirely to foresee... wu... I absorbed sheer terror..."
Capturing Fisher executing an astonished glare routing her perimeter, Jasmine defaulted assuming his condition tallied sourced from absolute terror courtesy her non-human configuration, chronically oblivious Fisher isolated his tracking mapping her weeping aesthetic.
Jasmine muzzled her ears tight, parallelly secreting her tail traversing her rear flank. Yet the tail conclusively registered structurally disproportionate to a crippling fault, thus fundamentally skirting valid concealment irrespective of deployed methodologies.
"Don't... don't look... don't look at me..."
Her grievance-laced sobbing notes resonated outward. Rapidly ensuing, her pliant, dainty hands urgently barricaded Fisher's orbital zones, dunking his visual reach completely routing the abyss. Yet the specific geometry executing the block proved astronomically awkward, compounding her holistic discounting evaluating her personal expansive scale. Consequently, Fisher's thoracic plateau registered the distinct tactile feedback corresponding to an undocumented mass pressing smoothly against it...
"Jasmine... Get up first."
This constituted Fisher's premier phrase post transitioning out from sheer shock. The tonal inflection rang severely awkward.