CHAPTER 44: GHOULISH ENCOUNTER, PART TWO

Around the length of his weapon, a cold mist swirled around with a howling intensity, encasing it completely as the ghoul drew in.

"Arctic Piercer!"

As the fiend leapt at it, the lance was thrust, shooting forth a cone of cold that allowed ice to stretch along the walls. The bitter winds repelled the tenacious pursuit by the ghoul, throwing the screeching possessor back.

Just as the bloodied figure clashed against the back wall, snapping the painting hanging, the woman-possessing fiend reconfigured its dislocated joints, "Mine...Mine...!"

"Can’t stay down, can ya’? Figures," Jon mumbled with a sharp exhale through his teeth.

’As it stands, I’ve got enough mana for two spells, three if I really push it. I really don’t want to let this one get close, but I might have to resolve without magic,’ he carefully planned.

In such narrow quarters, a failed strike with a lance could be the end of him–the veteran adventurer was well aware of this fact. He drew it back, parting his feet as he kept his eyes on the unstable monster, ever watchful like a statue.

It sprinted at him, momentarily losing its balance to run on all fours before picking itself back up, spreading its split jaw to him. He did not move an inch, allowing the ghoul to come to him, watching only its feet in comparison to where he stood.

"Give them to me–!" The fiend howled.

As it lashed out towards him, it crossed the invisible boundary marked by his veteran gaze, bringing his lance forward with a skillful thrust. It pierced through the ghoul’s midsection, leaving no chance for the skewered intestines to survive being bored.

"Grrrrh..." The fiend grunted weakly.

Jon grimaced as the blackened blood was spat onto his face, sliding the lance out of the possessed woman’s body. As the ghoul fell to the floor with a gaping wound, the adventurer stood silently in the hall, seeing the children peeking from the end of the corridor.

He wanted to say something, though stopped as his lips parted, unable to find the necessary words.

["It’s not my place. I’m not a hero. Just a guy doing his job. "]

Approaching the end of the hallway with a sigh of relief, he found the siblings standing behind the corner, watching him as if he had potentially been overtaken by the same creature.

"Everything’s alright, kids," Jon assured them, kneeling down to address them on their level.

"Can she...cah she be helped?" The small girl meekly asked, tucking her face against her sibling’s shoulder.

A question derived from oblivious innocence brought pause to the man’s immediate response, almost callously saying "no", stopping himself. From the look in the verdant eyes of the boy, he seemed to catch on to the truth.

"...Everything will be okay. Just–let’s get you back somewhere safe, alright?" Jon assured the children, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Wait in the lobby, alright?"

By some miracle, he managed to get the traumatized siblings to move along, giving them a gentle push on their backs to set them towards the opening area of the mansion. He stayed right behind them, watching with a sigh passing his lips.

"Give them...–"

"Huh?" Jon heard, turning around.

"--Back!"

Facing the hall in which the ghoul’s corpse was left, he found the fiend risen again, this time with a body that had morphed past any semblance of humanity. It stood over three meters in height, with appendages protruding from its decrepit body like the legs of a spider.

"Mama–?!" The small girl called out.

Her brother grabbed her wrist, tugging her the opposite way, "Laura...C’mon–that’s not mother!"

Each of its wet, sticky steps hurled in the way of the fleeing children as its bloodied eyes looked right past the adventurer. It had no intention of confronting him, it seemed; all the ghoul wanted as the twins. If he simply moved out of the way, he’d be safe–

"Dammit!"

Jon grunted, putting his body in the way of the berserk undead. There was nothing he could do in that split-second but hope his own body would hold out, not even having the time to draw his lance from its holster.

All he could do was close his eyes, holding his arms to act as a total wall in front of the transformed ghoul.

"Nicely done, Jon. I’ll take it from here."

"Ah–?"

Opening his eyes at the sudden emergence of the calm, wizened voice, he witnessed the ghoul being intercepted before his untimely fate could be delivered. Before him, a man in a spotless, black suit with neatly-kept, silver hair swept through.

Before he could so much as register as what happened, the ghoul howled in pain, stumbling back as multiple of its unnatural arms were severed at once.

’I’m not...dead? I couldn’t even see what he did,’ Jon thought.

In front of him, the bulwark of a butler held a sword of incorporeal form, forged of a translucent, cerulean mana. Yet, devoid of steel, it was sharper than its physical counterparts, seeking to be proven once more as the malignant entity lunged wildly at the butler.

Thorgul sternly awaited the fiend, "I truly do despise creating an unnecessary mess. For that, there must be a proper punishment."

"Hey–!" Jon called out.

Without a chance to lend his aid as the ghoul slammed its arachnid appendages down, the butler moved as a blur, like a phantom in the corner of one’s eye. The elder butler only emerged behind the ghoul with his mana-born blade already having performed its killing motion.

"Grrrk...Mine...My...babies..." The ghoul gasped.

All at once, its body split into dozens of pieces, severed into chunks that soon dispersed into ash.

It was only with a tired exhale did the old butler dismiss the magical blade, adjusting the collar of his suit as he turned around.

"Damn...Don’t judge a man by his age, right?" Jon muttered in disbelief.

Thorgul dismissed the remark, "I found two other ghouls in the eastern wing. It seems they had been marked at some point before arriving here. Have you checked the children?"

"Ah, no–I’ll get to that," Jon said, hurriedly walking towards the timid twins.

With some due diligence, the bodies of the siblings were confirmed to be devoid of the affliction left by the malicious entities. Left in the care of another group of guests on the second floor, the children were looked after.

A tired sigh left Jon’s lips as he sat himself in the lobby, leaning his back to the wall with a clear view of the front doors, "Phew..."

Across the room, the elder butler stood like a ready soldier, yet calm and collected, watching the adventurer.

"Earlier, you asked if I knew about the stories surrounding you," Thorgul recalled. "The "man who fled"--that is not the person I witnessed just now."

"Well...thanks," Jon remarked, looking at the ground with a wry smile as he scratched his head.

"It’s not my place to ask, but what truly happened that day? I just witnessed you use your life to defend two children. I find it hard to believe you’d abandon your own–" Thorgul spoke.

Jon interrupted the senior butler, "I appreciate the respect you’ve given me, but if it’s alright with you, I’d prefer not to talk about that."

"You’re right. Forgive my carelessness," Thorgul bowed his head, closing his eyes before breathing out.

"It’s alright, man. Let’s just make it through the night," Jon laughed.