Chapter 198 Mesmerizing Land of Fantastical Elements

Lurking in the Valley of Parmesus was not just the threat of beasts, but something far more sinister.

Sealed within the contorted valley were not just mindless beasts, but monsters a class above them in true evil: humans.

[“Within the Valley of Parmesus, stains on the Guild Foundation’s record live; S-rank criminals that were deemed ‘likely impossible’ to kill, three in total, dubbed ‘The Three Devils of Parmesus’.”]

Stepping out from a moss-covered cave, a tall man with abnormally long, muscular limbs wore the pelt of a beast on his back, sniffing the air as a smile stretched across his scarred lips. He was nearing three meters in height, with a mane of stringy, jet-black hair cascading down his bulbous trapezius muscles.

[“Fleisch” | S-Rank Criminal | A animalistic man who possesses little intellect, though he wields a body that’s as if it were carved from the flesh of god | 500+ victims]

–

Chopping blocks of wood with an ax, a bald-headed, tan-skinned man stood near a cabin inhabiting the mysterious valley. Blood ran slick down his arms as he held a vicious smile of inhuman wickedness, glancing back at the victims he’d already claimed: a pair of adventurers were strung up like laundry between trees.

“It’s that season again–the hunt begins,” he spoke in a deep, twisted tone.

[“Collector” | S-Rank Criminal | A slayer of beasts and men alike, finding Parmesus to be his paradise | 500+ Victims]

–

Lastly, a silent man stood, wearing armor made of the bone of beasts, wielding a rusty, steel cleaver in one hand.

“Who the hell are you!?”

“Stay back!”

A couple adventurers, one, a brown-haired man wielding a greatsword, and another, a young, female mage holding a staff up, yelled out to the abhorrent figure who peered at them with eyes tucked behind his mask of bone.

[“The Butcher” | S-Rank Criminal | A silent force of evil, theorized to be an apostle of one of the sinister deities | 1000+ victims]

As the grotesque man took a single step forward, the girl mage yelled out: “Burn my foe to ash, Fire Blast!”

With a fireball soaring straight towards the man, it landed, exploding into a ball of embers.

“...I did it,” the girl sighed.

“What a creep,” the brown-haired swordsman breathed out, “–Wait!”

Through the smoke and flames, the butcherer rushed forward as his burnt flesh rebuilt itself, though still scarred and imperfect.

“How–?!” The orange-haired girl cried out.

“That was a Gehenna Bear, they’re native to the continent of demons–fearsome foes, unless you know their weakness,” he explained, “–You need to behead them to bypass their regeneration. I’m Amon, by the way.”

Accepting the man’s hand, the silver-haired girl was surprised, holding a smile, “Melisande.”

Amon smiled, “Well, Melisande, I think we can both agree that in a place like this, our chances of survival are better in numbers, right? Ha-ha.”

“You’re right–I’m looking for somebody, actually,” Melisande told him.

“Oh? I’ll help you find them, then,” Amon assured her with a false smile.

“Really? Thanks,” she accepted.

Though there was some level of caution that Melisande held, the act of being saved without a question by the figure eased her paranoia.

—

After wandering for hours, avoiding gnarly beasts and just about anything that made inhuman sounds, Emilio found himself unable to locate his companion.

Where is she?...I can’t leave her alone in a place like this, he thought.

As he marched through the mystical forest, he was stopped as his stomach audibly growled. Through the continuous marching and fighting, he realized that he had not eaten anything that day.

“...Crap...I forgot about that–what am I going to do for food?...” He mumbled.

Though all that was on his mind was regrouping with Melisande, it would be a much more arduous task if he didn’t find something to fill his belly for the time being.

As he inspected the array of shrubs, he found colorful berries and odd-shaped fruits growing on the plants. Despite how delicious some looked, he knew it was an unwise decision to blindly trust what was grown in the wildlands.

Seeming normal enough, he plucked a vine of orb-like, purple-skinned fruits that resembled grapes.

“This could do it, right?...” He muttered.

Sniffing it, there was nothing that stood out as ‘bad’ about the fruit, prompting him to pluck one from the vine before popping it into his mouth.

Like a grape, it released sweet juice directly into his mouth, also helping to satiate his thirst, leaving him pleasantly surprised. It was a careful first consumption, but after making sure it didn’t immediately manifest a disease in him, he popped more of the grape-like fruits into his mouth.

Lucky, he thought.

After giving himself some sustenance, he moved on, carefully marching through the densely-packed forest while scouting for his lost companion.

The atmosphere of the sealed valley was ominous, yet tranquil in some parts; at times, it felt utterly lonely, so vastly alien to what he was used to that he found himself ensnared by its mystique, but at the same time, scared.

There was always something wrong with the scenery he looked at; trees hung from the sky, rivers flowed upward, and patches of ground were suspended in midair, stagnating.

Critters scampered as he moved; he found himself watching cyclopian deer run, or bunnies with horns hop away.

It was simply a mesmerizing fever dream of a land.