Eye Orb studied the two girls approaching them, a flicker of surprise in its gaze. Aside from the Fallen Ones, this was the first time they’d encountered a species so strikingly human-like. Their faces resembled exquisitely carved sculptures—utterly mesmerizing.

Night Frost never imagined elves, a staple of fantasy novels, truly existed—right here in the Myth Abyss. Stories always praised elves for ethereal beauty and immense longevity. Seeing them now? Absolutely legendary.

The elf girls shuffled unsteadily toward the whale. Night Frost tapped her forehead—activating not night vision, but Eagle Eye. Her focus locked onto the uncloaked elf, examining her closely.

Up close, the girl’s skin wasn’t a healthy pale. Fatal wounds marred their bodies, yet not a single drop of blood seeped out—as if every trace had long since drained away. Their movements were stiff, expressions vacant, as though puppeteered by Spirit Threads.

“No life force… They’re already dead.”

Scanning with her spirit sense confirmed it: zero vitality. No wonder she hadn’t sensed them earlier—only the snap of a twig beneath one elf’s foot revealed their position.

“Undead… or something else?”

A faint trace of vitality lingered—so weak it was nearly negligible. What twisted them into this state?

Hostile intent was clear. Night Frost deactivated Eagle Eye, crouched lower, and observed from the corner of her eye.

Trudging through the waterlogged ground, the elves neared the whale. The uncloaked one sank into mud, struggling hard to pull free. She didn’t wipe the grime off—just pressed forward. After great effort, both stood before the colossal corpse.

With wooden motions, they raised their hands. Beams of white light shot from bulges on their backs and chests, piercing deep into the whale.

Night Frost held her breath. The beams had physical form. That faint vitality radiated from them—not the elves. Undeniably, the elves were long dead.

An unknown Monster. One that inhabited corpses, re"animating" them. A parasite puppeteering the dead.

“What a vile creature.”

A milky-white body slowly emerged from the bulges, inching into the whale. They wanted this corpse—if Night Frost guessed right. The whale dwarfed the elves in size and power. Securing it would amplify the worm’s strength.

Not happening. She found it first. The worms’ true forms seemed weak; their power relied solely on the elf shells. And mid-transfer? Immobilized.

Night Frost drew her spear—thrust—and impaled the plump body. The fat worm writhed seconds, then stilled.

Likely the weakest Cantata Two Monster she’d ever faced. One thrust ended it.

The second worm, still half-emerged, panicked at its companion’s death. It hastily retracted into the elf corpse and fled.

It knew: even inside the frail elf body, it stood no chance. A Cantata Two like Night Frost could crush it with a flick of her finger.

The First Symphony elf hadn’t taken three steps before unfurling gossamer wings—tattered with holes—and catching the wind to rise.

A flicker of envy crossed Night Frost’s mind. Elves flew by birthright. Magic Maidens like her had to master grueling Magic Spells just to leave the ground. She still hadn’t learned to ride the wind and soar.

But the damaged wing faltered. Night Frost pushed off, leaped, extended her left leg—a sharp side kick sent the elf crashing down.

She landed smoothly, eyes cold with zero pity. Crimson Gold Flame erupted from her palm, engulfing the elf girl.

Heat reduced her to charcoal in moments—painlessly. Only the milky-white worm tried fleeing the inferno. The instant it peeked out, Night Frost pinned it to the ground with her spear.

It screeched shrilly before flames consumed it entirely.

“Disgusting creature.”

Now she saw it clearly: a long segmented body covered in fine, hair-like tendrils writhing like tiny tentacles. The head emerged from the elf, but tendrils remained embedded inside—clearly how it puppeteered the corpse.

Similar to the black worms from the Twelfth District, yet fundamentally different. Those used bodies as breeding grounds; this one treated corpses as tools.

“Not bad, this thing,” Eye Orb remarked.

Night Frost glanced at it. Imagining those pure-white tendrils fused with Eye Orb’s own tentacles made even her impassive face twitch with disgust. No doubt Eye Orb was already calculating feasibility.

“But truly useful,” Eye Orb added. “If I gained this trait, after my body’s destroyed, I could inhabit other corpses—greatly boosting battlefield utility.”

It had a point.

Li Dogegg and the bird whispered nearby. Night Frost ignored them. She turned back to dissect the whale—prime-grade materials.

But before her blade fell, the inert whale twitched faintly. Her eyes snapped to the severed worm segment nearby—it was gone.

“Tenacious…” Even halved, it had burrowed into the whale and seized control in seconds.

Still, the whale couldn’t fly or maneuver. Here, it was just a sitting duck—

“Huh?! How is it flying?!”

The whale rolled over, massive fins slapping water under the arm-thick Monster’s control. Li Dogegg and the bird were flung skyward. Who’d believe this dehydrated, hill-stranded whale could levitate?

“This makes no sense! If you can fly, how did you die here?!”

Night Frost’s gaze dropped to the cloaked elf on the ground. A gentle breeze drifted from her palm. *She* was lifting the whale.

Even half a worm could manipulate the corpse to levitate the beast. Realization flashed—Night Frost raised her hand. Flame reduced both worm fragment and elf body to ash.

The whale plummeted, sinking deep into the mud. Flames dancing on her palm, Night Frost advanced toward the thrashing corpse.

She summoned the Crimson Gold Lance, poised to strike its head—

A second sun blazed over the hill. Scorching light flooded the sky. Then—roaring seawater echoed in the distance.

Icy waves crashed against the hill, flooding the pit instantly.

Night Frost grabbed Eye Orb, landing on the water’s surface as her spear dispersed. The bird snatched Li Dogegg; the two flapped desperately, gaining just enough height as waters rose.

Damn. That worm was destined to survive—right as she moved to finish it.

Now submerged, the whale had a real chance to break free.

The corpse twitched. Violent waves surged toward Night Frost. She tried leaping up—but emerald seaweed tangled her limbs, dragging her down.

“These pests won’t quit?”

True opportunists. She clicked her fingers. Black Flame coiled her wrist. A flick sent fire dancing across the surface. The sea ignited as planned. Soon, the weeds would retreat underwater.

But they held fast. Even seared by Black Flame, they dragged her deeper.

Below, the whale’s decaying maw gaped open, sucking everything near. Night Frost summoned a silver cube—it vanished down the throat in an instant.

She channeled Mana to stabilize herself, but vines coiled tighter around her limbs. Seizing the moment, they yanked her under.

“Watch out!”

She’d just freed one arm when vines and a water projectile shot toward her.

Flames vaporized the projectile; Black Flame blocked the vines.

This time she saw the source: plants woven like a turret, weaponizing the surrounding seawater.