Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 486: The Mutation of the Infected
As that voice rang out, the situation on the field changed once again.
Black, thread-like substances began seeping up from the ground without pause, wrapping themselves around the Infected who had already lost the will to fight and were on the verge of surrender. Like creeping vines, the threads latched onto their bodies.
At the very center of it all stood Brull. More black threads gathered around him than anyone else, and from every Infected bound by those threads, a faint, pale-red filament extended outward, connecting directly to his body.
The group of Infected who had been crying and wailing in fear just moments ago fell deathly silent. Even the Ursus soldiers that had been preparing to attack froze in place, stunned by the grotesque scene unfolding before them.
From the center of the tangled threads came Brull's agonized screams and muffled groans. Then, as a wave of nauseating unease spread through the air, the sight within changed—
Brull now stood there clad in an impeccably elegant tailcoat. His once normal brown eyes had transformed into blood-red, vertical snake pupils.
"Control is the greatest form of protection for the Infected," he said, as if he had finally reached some profound realization. "As long as they obediently follow my commands and remain under my control… what need is there for self-awareness?"
The lingering confusion in his eyes vanished, replaced first by unwavering conviction, and then by a madness tinged with bloodlust.
"Now, it's time to take the first step toward my conquest. I'll use you as a test run."
With an almost graceful motion, he raised a finger and pointed toward the Ursus soldiers, who still hadn't fully grasped what was happening. Like a chess player issuing commands, Brull gave his order.
The Infected who had remained motionless sprang into action at once. They dropped to all fours and sprinted across the ground, no longer resembling humans but rather tamed beasts unleashed upon their prey.
More than that, their frail bodies seemed to have been reinforced by those black threads. The speed they displayed was so great that even an average soldier might struggle to keep up. As for their strength… judging by the deep footprints they left embedded in the mud, it was clearly nothing to scoff at.
The sudden shift left the already wary Ursus soldiers completely caught off guard. They never imagined these opponents would become so dangerous so quickly, and some nearly failed to react before the Infected reached them.
Fortunately, a furious shout from the squad leader snapped them back to their senses. They recovered swiftly and formed a defensive line almost instinctively.
The Infected, surging forward with murderous intent, were blocked by shield-bearing guards. From the rear, casters and ranged soldiers unleashed merciless barrages of spells and bolts at the beast-like attackers.
Yet reality soon proved that Brull's arrogance was backed by genuine power.
The Infected struck by crossbows and Arts attacks merely staggered for a brief moment from the impact before charging forward again, as if nothing had happened, continuing their assault on the defenders before them.
Wounds torn open by arrows and spells still marked their bodies. Blood splattered across the ground. And yet, their movements never slowed.
They were like puppets bound by invisible strings, incapable of feeling pain, and unmoved by injury.
Even when crossbow bolts pierced straight through their skulls, the Infected continued attacking.
Only when melee soldiers severed their limbs—completely stripping them of the ability to fight—did those Infected finally fall still.
Even so, that was far from easy.
In a one-on-one fight, even with this level of mutation, these soldiers might still have stood a chance. The problem was numbers. The Infected outnumbered them several times over, and because of those bizarre threads, ranged attacks were almost useless. In an instant, the situation turned perilous.
Again and again, the defensive line of the guards was breached. Soldiers were dragged away by the beast-like Infected, and within moments were torn apart into piles of mangled flesh. Worse still, after tasting blood, the Infected only grew more frenzied.
If nothing unexpected happened, the annihilation of this Ursus army squad was merely a matter of time.
"So this is what having power feels like… how intoxicating," Brull murmured, his lips curling faintly.
"Now then, where should I go next? I suppose I should start by wiping out those traitors in that damn village. They need to be punished."
From behind the horde of Infected, Brull—who had fully accepted his new state—watched the soldiers struggling against the puppets under his control with cold indifference. In his eyes, they were nothing more than walking corpses.
After accepting the power offered by that voice which had tempted him countless times in the depths of his mind, he felt little pain. Instead, what filled him was a liberating sense of pleasure—like unleashing his desires and true nature at last. Perhaps he should have accepted this power long ago. After all, their goals had aligned from the very beginning.
There was only one thing he couldn't quite understand.
That voice had once claimed it would merge completely with him—but now, Brull felt no abnormalities in his thoughts at all.
If there was anyone who truly understood what was happening, it would be the two observers who had remained hidden and watched everything unfold from start to finish: Steven and Talulah.
Gazing at Brull, still drunk on his newfound power, Steven glanced upward at the title floating above his head—[One of the Deathless Black Snake Scale]—and couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Humans really were different from one another. Even the old snake clearly wasn't satisfied with this man, otherwise he wouldn't have granted him such a meager title.
Talulah had fused directly with the Black Snake's true body, inheriting even the title of the Deathless Black Snake itself. Yet Brull was left with nothing more than 'One of' his scale—clearly no more than a disposable pawn.
"That power… that voice… it's Kashchey. It has to be him…"
Compared to Steven, Talulah needed only the echo of that voice to be certain. Brull's transformation was absolutely tied to Kashchey. As one of the people most familiar with that monster, no one was better suited than her to recognize that demon's voice.
Watching Brull—who had once placed the Infected above all else no matter the cost—turn in the blink of an eye into someone who could command them as expendable resources, Talulah couldn't help but feel a chill of lingering fear.
If she hadn't met Steven…
If she had walked the same path as him…
Would she, too, have betrayed her ideals so easily, becoming the very kind of person she now despised the most?
Yet after that initial fear faded, what surfaced on her face was not anger, but a conflicted helplessness.
This wasn't the time to dwell on what she might become in the future. The real problem was the present—and she didn't know how to handle it.
Standing on the side of the Infected, she should have been glad to see them overpower the Ursus soldier. But knowing the full story, she simply couldn't bring herself to watch these soldiers be slaughtered here.
This squad wasn't made up of scum like the Infected patrol squads that preyed on the weak and oppressed civilians. They had done nothing more than fulfill their duties. Before attacking, they had even given the Infected a chance to surrender.
And clearly, the root of this entire incident lay in the resentment of the Infected led by Brull. Calling it self-inflicted wouldn't be wrong.
Now, the choice lay bare before her.
Should she stand by and allow the Infected to wipe out an Ursus army soldier squad that, in her eyes, had done nothing wrong?
Or should she step in, guided by her convictions, and turn her blade against the very Infected she was meant to protect?
That was the decision Talulah had to make—right now.
There was no time to spare. The moment given to her was no more than an instant. Perhaps this, too, was exactly what Kashchey wanted to see.
"What will you do?" Steven asked calmly. "Do you need me to buy you some time to think?"
He had noticed her hesitation. Knowing this was the pivotal choice, he still offered no opinion of his own, choosing instead to respect whatever decision Talulah made.
Steven knew he could resolve the situation cleanly himself, but as he had said before, this was her matter to face.
"At the very least, we have to stop the fighting," Talulah said at last. "Everything starts with Brull. If we take him down, the Infected won't stay this crazed."
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Clenching her fists, she made the choice that, to her, felt truest to her heart.
And somewhere deep inside, the last trace of her lingering naivety whispered that perhaps—just perhaps—if Brull, the one controlling them, could be dealt with, this situation might finally unravel.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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