Strange...
Why do they all have the same magical fluctuations as before...
Ah, I see.
Turing struggled to stand up from the ground, gritting her teeth and rubbing her blurry eyes.
These guys... all are clones of Beezelbub.
All are minions of Oedipus!
Damn Oedipus...
"Anything you anticipate, I will destroy; anything arranged, I will rebel against!"
"Oedipus... you and I are enemies!!!"
A slime, stacked with corpses, rose about twenty meters high and twenty-five meters wide. It swayed its tentacles and slowly approached Turing, moving like a massive fortress.
With the squirming of its tentacles, every distance it moved, it would corrode a large area of land. In front of it, no matter how hard the steel and concrete seemed, they appeared meaningless. Within its emerald green body, it seemed to hold the most malicious venom.
Since it kept screaming inside, as if tortured bodies, we'll call it Doomful.
Doomful swaggered towards Turing, its vivid greenery like a dagger to the heart, causing extreme discomfort at the sight.
With a thud, Doomful’s slap broke the sound barrier and fiercely smashed toward Turing—judging by its momentum, this slap was not lighter than the one from Mad Gloom.
Turing's eyes flashed with hostility. Suddenly, layers upon layers of fierce determination twinkled in Turing's pupils like a kaleidoscope.
She forcefully pulled out the black key from her body, muscles bulging, and faced Doomful with the sword-like back of the black key, meeting it head-on.
Colorful thoughts exploded in the confined space as the sword-like back of the black key clashed with Doomful's tentacles, instantly shattering the emerald green tentacles.
The murky music notes instantly detonated, nauseous venom splattered everywhere, and the sturdy tentacles, entangled in the massive strength of the black key, punched a hole straight into Doomful's interior.
Before Turing could even be surprised, a tidal wave of venom gushed out from the slime's body and swallowed Turing in an instant.
The direct contact with the venom numbed Turing's body, and her entire field of vision was covered by a seething wave of poison. This caused Turing to flinch involuntarily.
At this moment, a half-human-sized giant fly emanating a sinister aura flew out from the slime's body with the venom.
Given its pair of black, murky yet crystal-clear wings and its decaying body resembling a corpse, let's call it Cryptid.
With no hesitation, Cryptid pounced on Turing's body, extending its numerous tentacles resembling the thousand hands of a bodhisattva, firmly gripping Turing's spine.
With its rotting face squirming, the fly named Cryptid slowly extended its mouthpiece symbolizing death and decay, viciously stinging Turing's neck.
An irradiation capable of annihilating the entire world burst from Cryptid's mouthpiece—distortions, nausea, exhaustion, weakness, all the terrifying negative states of humanity, emerged at the moment of the massive irradiation, deeply entwined in Turing.
Clutching her wounded neck, Turing was pulled by a deep sense of helplessness, her legs collapsing under her.
"Damn..."
Turing gritted her teeth, glaring fiercely at the dismal-eyed Cryptid, as if wanting to etch its detestable body deeply into her mind.
"I will unleash punishment... go to hell."
Gently prying open the thumbnail on her thumb, Turing's crimson lips parted.
But plans changed unexpectedly, and the sudden turn of events completely shocked Turing, forcing her to abandon this plan.
"York...?"
The ever-present Grim Shagger, who was chasing Turing earlier, had returned somehow.
Grim Shagger opened its mouth, using its tongue to tease the York in its mouth, now soaked with numerous saliva and mucus, and brought it close to Turing—as if threatening her not to use magic.
Turing, looking at the only half-bodied York, devoid of any human aura, suddenly felt a sense of disbelief.
"Dead...?"
"York... truly dead...?"
Unlike the York Turing saw in the ruins of Bremen Hall, the current York, after being tossed around by Grim Shagger, had completely lost its humanoid shape.
The severed body of York, soaked in saliva, bloated strangely, with the large intestine playfully protruding like an animal's tongue or a long, red stigma of an herbaceous plant.
Turing was stunned.
She had never imagined death as such a concept.
It was such a strange and familiar concept.
It was such a filthy yet pure concept.
"So... this is what I did to Shepherd and Mostima...?"
Turing was silenced by the delayed fear of death.
Even the punishment she held in her hand couldn't be thrown out.
But even so, Turing couldn't accept the fact that York was dead.
She still clung to some inexplicable expectation, some unfounded hope.
She hesitated to act.
In the distance, an ice cliff shattered, as if the sky was falling and the earth was cracking.
In the deadlock between Grim Shagger, Doomful, Cryptid, and Turing, a figure with a silent step that could change the world with a simple move was swiftly approaching.
You couldn't see its face, covered in frost as if it had been unmeltable for millennia.
Its facial features were frozen into a sharp, bladelike ice mask; it held a hammer the size of a skyscraper; although it was of average height, every step it took caused the earth to tremble!
In Beezelbub's memory, it was a merciless veteran of the battlefield.
At the end of the flames of war, it wore freezing armor and crushed every deserter's bones on the fiery battlefield.
And now, it had returned, known as the Passionate Butcher, about to do the same to Turing.
It drew closer slowly.
The sound of congealed ice resounded incessantly.
For dozens of miles around Turing, almost a third of a city block was covered by magnificent icebergs, one after another.
"Cowards..."
"Shall endure the Bone Crushing Sentence."
A cold breath escaped from its face mask as it held up its massive hammer towards Turing in the distance, threateningly.
