SS

The cavern trembled as the Master of Flesh collapsed, its grotesque form unraveling into a thick, oozing mass. The scent of rot filled the air, but beneath it, there was something else—something old, something deeper than mere decay. I watched as the last vestiges of life drained from the abomination, its once-shifting flesh solidifying into nothing more than lifeless meat.

Illya and I stood in silence, our breaths heavy from the fight. My grip on Cultro tightened, the blade still pulsing faintly from whatever energy it had absorbed. I didn't know what had just happened, but I knew one thing—the Master of Flesh was dead.

Illya exhaled, gripping her spear as she surveyed the remains. "So… that was the big bad, huh?"

I shook my head. "No. That was just one of them."

Her brow furrowed. "You think there are more?"

I nodded. "Something—someone—created that thing. The experiments, the cursed creatures… whoever started this is still out there."

A heavy silence hung between us. Then, from deeper within the cavern, a faint whisper echoed.

Illya raised her spear. "Tell me you heard that."

"I did."

We turned toward the darkness ahead. The cavern stretched further than we had initially thought, its walls no longer stone but something else—something organic. They pulsed like veins, and with every step we took, a deep thrumming sound resonated around us, like a heartbeat.

I swallowed hard. "We go forward."

Illya didn't hesitate. "Obviously."

We moved cautiously, the path ahead narrowing into a tunnel. The deeper we went, the stronger the unnatural feeling in the air became. The very walls seemed to be watching us. Then, without warning, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber, and at its center stood something… alive.

A figure loomed before us, towering, inhuman. Unlike the servant we had just slain, this one had shape, had form—a mockery of a man, its elongated limbs stretched impossibly long, its skin stitched together like patchwork. Where eyes should have been, there were only deep, empty sockets, and a grin was carved into its flesh, jagged and unnatural.

"I see," it whispered, voice layered with a thousand others. "You killed my child."

The Master of Flesh.

Illya took a step back. "Oh, fantastic. It talks."

I raised Cultro, my muscles tensed. "And I'm going to make sure it stops."

It chuckled, a sound like wet meat slapping together. "Foolish. You cannot kill what is eternal."

I didn't give it the chance to say more. I moved, Cultro slicing toward its torso. The blade struck—but instead of cutting, it sank into the flesh as if I had stabbed water.

Before I could react, an unseen force hurled me backward, slamming me into the cavern wall. Pain exploded in my ribs.

Illya lunged, her spear flashing as she struck. But the Master of Flesh moved unnaturally, its body bending and twisting in ways that defied nature. It reached for her, its elongated fingers stretching like tendrils. She barely managed to dodge, rolling to the side.

I pushed myself up, wincing. "Its body isn't solid," I muttered. "It's shifting between forms."

Illya grit her teeth. "Then how do we kill it?"

The Master of Flesh turned toward me, its empty sockets somehow locked onto mine. "You do not."

Then, it attacked.

Its arms shot forward, stretching like whips. I ducked just in time, the cavern wall behind me exploding as the force of its strike shattered the stone. Illya struck again, but her spear was caught mid-air, tendrils wrapping around it and pulling it from her grip. She gasped as she was yanked forward, straight toward the creature's gaping maw.

"Illya!"

I moved without thinking. Cultro pulsed in my grip, and in a single motion, I slashed downward. A wave of energy erupted from the blade, severing the tendrils holding Illya. She tumbled to the ground, rolling to grab her spear as I pressed the attack.

I went for its core, remembering the weakness of its servant. But the Master of Flesh wasn't so easily undone. Its body twisted away, its grin widening. "Your blade hungers," it whispered. "It takes, but it does not destroy."

I gritted my teeth. "Then I'll cut until nothing is left."

The battle became a storm of movement. Illya and I struck from opposite sides, our weapons cutting, slicing, stabbing—but the Master of Flesh always reformed. Its body never remained in one state for more than a moment, shifting constantly. It was impossible to land a killing blow.

And then, I saw it.

At the center of its chest, where the flesh swirled like a vortex, something glowed faintly—a black mass, barely visible through the shifting flesh.

Its core.

"Illya!" I shouted. "The center! Aim for the center!"

She didn't question me. She moved in tandem with me, our attacks now focused. The Master of Flesh roared, its voice warping with the agony of countless souls trapped within it.

It lashed out, but we were faster now, more precise. Illya's spear found purchase first, piercing the core just enough to slow its movement. And that was all I needed.

I lunged, Cultro humming as I drove it deep into the core.

The Master of Flesh screamed.

The cavern shook violently, the walls pulsing erratically. Its body convulsed, arms flailing, but I didn't let go. I twisted the blade deeper, feeling the energy within Cultro surge.

The Master of Flesh's form began to collapse inward. Its flesh imploded, pulled toward the core as if gravity itself had betrayed it. The cavern trembled, chunks of rock falling from the ceiling.

With one final, gurgling breath, the Master of Flesh was no more.

The chamber fell silent.

I pulled Cultro free, breathing heavily. Illya stood beside me, spear still raised, as if expecting another attack. But there was nothing left—only the fading remnants of the abomination we had just destroyed.

We had won.

But at what cost?

I looked at my blade. The pulsing had stopped, but something within it felt… different. Changed.

Illya wiped her brow. "Tell me that was the last one."

I sheathed Cultro. "For now."

She sighed. "Fantastic."

We turned toward the exit, the cavern beginning to crumble behind us. The Master of Flesh was dead. But deep in my gut, I knew—this was just the beginning.

The Master of Flesh let out one last, gurgling howl before its monstrous form began to unravel. The grotesque, pulsating flesh that made up its body shrank inward, as if something unseen was pulling it apart from the inside. Its stolen limbs, its shifting faces, all of it disintegrated into a blackened mist that swirled violently before dissipating completely.

I stood there, my breath heavy, Cultro still buried deep where its heart should have been. The blade pulsed once, a dark glow fading from its surface. I had felt something the moment I struck the final blow—like a thread snapping, like something ancient breaking free.

The cavern was eerily silent. The walls, once shifting and pulsing like living veins, had gone still. The overwhelming scent of rot was beginning to thin, replaced by a cold, empty air.

Illya stumbled forward, still gripping her spear. Her breathing was uneven, but she was steady. "Is it… dead?"

I pulled Cultro free from where the Master of Flesh had once stood, watching as the last remnants of its form turned to dust. "Yeah."

Illya exhaled. "Good."

I turned to her. "Are you hurt?"

She wiped sweat from her forehead, shaking her head. "Nothing serious. You?"

I glanced down at myself. My clothes were torn in places, my arms covered in shallow cuts, but nothing life-threatening. "I'm fine."

She frowned. "That thing was insane. I don't know how we even…" She trailed off, her gaze drifting toward my weapon. "Your sword. It's different."

I looked down at Cultro. The blade was darker than before, like it had absorbed something. I gripped the handle tightly. I had felt it. The moment the Master of Flesh died, something inside Cultro had shifted.

"It took something from him," I murmured.

Illya crossed her arms. "That's not ominous at all."

I didn't have an answer for her.

The cavern rumbled faintly. Dust fell from above, and I realized the structure was no longer stable. Without its master, whatever unnatural force had kept this place together was fading.

"We need to get out of here," I said.

Illya nodded. "Yeah. Before this whole place collapses on us."

We turned and ran, weaving through the winding tunnels, avoiding crumbling debris. The deeper we had gone, the more warped the cavern had become—but now, it was reverting. The walls were cracking, the unnatural flesh-like textures fading back into normal stone.

The exit was in sight when the final tremor hit. A portion of the ceiling gave way, collapsing between us and freedom.

"Move!" I shouted, grabbing Illya's arm and pulling her forward.

The debris fell just behind us, the cavern sealing itself shut. Dust filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

Illya coughed. "That was way too close."

I nodded, catching my breath. We had made it. The cavern was gone, buried, and with it—the Master of Flesh.

The morning light met us as we emerged from the underground. The sky was clear, as if the world itself was acknowledging that something dark had been erased from existence.

Illya stretched, wincing slightly. "So, what now?"

I looked down at Cultro, still feeling the strange energy within it. "Now, we find out what's next."

The Master of Flesh was gone. But somehow, I knew this was only the beginning.