Chapter Eighty-Six: Speculation (Part One)
Gurgle—
My stomach growled.
Fluid was pooling in my mouth.
Don’t look, just go…
I desperately suppressed my rising appetite and dashed out of the tent. Looking up, I saw the Pope still grilling meat outside.
Hearing the commotion, he turned around, looking relaxed as if he had anticipated my reaction, casually asking, “Did you see?”
“What is that?!”
“Surprise.”
“You…”
“I opened up his chest. Yes, you guessed it right.”
The Pope turned back, focused on his grilling: “It’s the corpse of a heretic. The knights were going to burn it and bury it, but during the ‘bl**d offering’ phase, it’s rather unusual, and no one knows if that thing might come back to life… Well, thanks to Isaac’s sharp judgment, maybe he just had an instinct that I should see it before they buried it.”
I stood behind Angel, my heart racing, my appetite surging, eyes glued to the meat for a moment, my breath quickening.
Angel didn’t turn around, continuing to grill while talking.
“Actually, the Church has used countless means, and there have been Frost Order folks involved before. We’ve always tried to keep the complete ‘bl**d offering’ heretic corpses, but we’ve never managed to do so. The reason is simple—no one has the power to instantly freeze Infernal Fire—except you.”
“I think, maybe this is the will of the Deity. It’s your Frost that prevents the Infernal Fire from incinerating the corpse; you even froze the source of power within… Yes, that piece of meat, that’s something unique to the ‘bl**d offering.’ It grows right here.”
He patted his chest.
“Inside the left chest cavity, right next to the heart, partially wrapping the lung… like a newborn organ. If you learned human anatomy at the academy, you’d know that’s not a typical human organ. It’s an extra, inexplicable existence.”
Extra…
Organs…
Although I had already guessed some things, hearing confirmation from Angel still sent chills down my spine. I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the words.
And then drool started to flow.
Hungry…
Angel didn’t notice my distress; he continued speaking: “I have a bold hypothesis: if every heretic in the ‘bl**d offering’ phase has that thing growing inside them… You see, unlike normal first or second phase heretics, those in the ‘bl**d offering’ phase don’t d*e even if their heads are smashed. But no matter how strong the recovery ability, how could a head that’s been blown off grow back?”
“Whether it’s the strongest dragons from the Divine Era or those ageless creatures from the Amigil Mountain Range, as long as they’re alive in this world, losing a head means d*ath.”
“A head gone means life stops thinking, stops any body activities. No matter how powerful you are, you won’t be able to exert yourself… Yet the heretics in the ‘bl**d offering’ phase can. If we assume they’re smashed, what allows them to recover or even reform?”
—It’s that organ.
“The power of the Deity cannot be borne by a human body in any way. But what if the source of power isn’t flesh at all but that extra organ… If that’s the thing that allows them to possess the ability to s*ck others’ bl**d and unleash even hotter Infernal Fire, even regrowing after being beheaded… Little Black Charcoal, what do you think that means?”
He turned back, the amusement in his eyes fading, his expression growing solemn.
“Let’s speculate even bolder: you’ve fought a monster once embodied by Teresa in the Royal City. Little Black Charcoal, you’ve seen that monster… It’s not the Abyss; it’s something else… like something that needs to consume flesh and bl**d to survive.”
“And when that thing, in its ‘egg’ form, hasn’t obtained enough flesh and bl**d, what do you think it looks like and where does it hide?”
“……”
“What’s that expression on your face?”
“…I can’t hold it back.”
Angel’s words began to fade in my ears as I suppressed the overwhelming urge to turn around and devour that piece of meat, not caring about thinking, not caring about saying anything. I walked up to the Pope’s side and, taking advantage of his unawareness, snatched the grilled fox meat.
Angel looked stunned: “Hey, wait—”
Wait my foot!
An entire grilled fox was skewered on a stick, its charred black skin still wafting smoke. I gripped the stick with both hands, aiming for the meatiest thigh, blowing on it a few times, ignoring Angel’s protests, and opened my mouth wide to take a big bite.
Ouch!
…So tough!
That bite didn’t even get through the meat, so I decided to rip it apart. Changing my grip on the stick, I lunged forward, gnawing hard on the fox leg, tilting my head back with all my might and emitting a “mm—” noise as I grimaced fiercely, drool almost spilling from the corners of my mouth.
I’ll show you…
“Wait, Little Black Charcoal, wait!”
Angel looked horrified, jumping up to grab the meat back: “Don’t eat it, stop! I’m just messing with you! You can’t eat that—”
Shut it!
I instinctively stepped back to dodge, and during that process, I finally tore a piece of leg meat off.
With too much force, I almost staggered back as if I had been punched; my upper body lurched back, and the meat nearly flew from my hands. I quickly grabbed it, stabilizing myself as I warily gazed at Angel, puffing up my cheeks as I began to chew.
Two steps away, the golden-robed Pope reached out a hand, several times starting to speak but then burying his face in his hands.
“I just don’t get how, after looking at that thing, you still have an appetite… You sure won’t want to eat meat in the short term… I meant to tease you first and then tell you that red-horned fox meat is actually inedible… What’s wrong with you, Little Black Charcoal…”
“Transform!”
“Spit it out!”
“……”
Gurgle.
The meat was impossible to chew, so I just swallowed it whole.
Seeing this, Angel seemed to panic: “You ate it?”
“Yeah.”
“You really ate it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“……”
The Pope fell silent.
I smacked my lips, keeping a vigilant eye on him while opening my mouth to take another bite.
But the strong, bitter taste slowly spread in my mouth—the moment halted, forcing me to frown.
Huh…
Why does this fox meat taste different from what I had in my dream… It seems off, did I not cook it enough?
Earlier, I had been too anxious, and that bite had almost gone down whole, my mind racing to finish it before Angel could snatch it away. Keeping all the leg meat for myself, I wanted to gobble it all up… I had to fill myself up; otherwise, I was afraid I’d lose control and go munch on that meat in the tent.
However, after that bite, Angel seemed to abandon his attempts to reclaim it. I felt a bit relieved and finally started to taste the meat; the flavor lingering in my mouth was a mix of fishy sourness and some gritty bitterness—whether from the meat or charcoal ash, I couldn’t tell.
“…Ptooey.”
I spat on the ground.
This meat…
It felt like chewing on tough leather…
So bad.
Doubt crept in, and I peeked again at the roasted whole fox in my hands.
Seeing I had stopped eating, Angel seemed to breathe a little easier: “I told you it’s inedible—do you believe me now?”
“…It’s not cooked.”
“Even if it’s cooked, it’s still inedible.”
The Pope approached, reaching out again to snatch the meat, and I instinctively dodged.
“Hey, that stuff could k*ll you; I’m serious.”
“Is it toxic?”
“…In a way, to humans, yes. The red-horned fox used to be a favorite food of the dragons during the Divine Era, and only their stomachs could digest it. You’ll have problems if you eat it, so hand it over?”
Angel cautiously stretched out for the food a third time.
“…No way.”
I slipped away again.
I hesitated for a moment, considering the whole roasted fox in my hands—
If dragons could eat it, maybe I could too.
Whatever, I’ll just eat it first…
So I opened my mouth again and took another fierce bite.
“Hey, hey, hey!”
