Later That Night — Laosian Camp
The Laosian section of the camp was quieter than the rest.
Black-armored soldiers stood watch around Logos's tent while lanterns burned low against the dark. No laughter. No drinking.
Only discipline.
Only silence.
Inside—
The creature lay restrained across a reinforced metal frame.
Chains bound every limb.
Runic spikes had been hammered through flesh and scale directly into the wood beneath it.
And still—
Its muscles twitched occasionally beneath the skin.
Logos stood over it in silence.
Bringing the examination kit had been worthwhile.
The tools had already been arranged with unsettling precision beside him.
Scalpels.
Bone saws.
Crystal lenses.
Mana probes.
Silver hooks.
Kleber stood near the entrance with his arms folded tightly.
"…I know that look."
Logos did not look up.
"Elaborate."
His fingers brushed lightly across the instruments as he considered where to begin.
"You're excited."
"Yes."
Logos picked up a long knife.
"That is the problem."
Kleber finally looked toward the corpse again.
"Do you understand what this means?"
"No."
Logos crouched beside the specimen.
"And I feel safer because of that," Kleber muttered.
Logos ignored him.
"This creature demonstrates extreme external corruption while maintaining partial biological functionality."
"The nervous system remains active despite catastrophic degradation."
Kleber stared at him.
"…You sound way too happy saying that."
"It means the transformation process is stable."
"That sentence somehow made everything worse."
Logos stepped closer.
The creature's ruined eye twitched weakly toward him.
Tracking.
Then—
Its jaw moved.
Barely.
A wet clicking noise escaped its throat.
Kleber's sword left its sheath halfway.
"…My lord."
Logos raised one hand slightly.
"Do not interrupt."
The creature convulsed again.
Another clicking sound emerged.
Then—
Very faintly—
A word.
Not complete.
Not clear.
But human.
Kleber froze.
Even Logos stopped moving for half a second.
The ruined mouth trembled.
Then whispered:
"…hun…gry…"
Kleber's blood ran cold.
"…No."
The corpse twitched violently against the restraints.
And slowly—
A grin spread across Logos's face.
"…Fascinating."
Kleber immediately pointed his sword at him.
"No."
"You are no longer allowed to say that word."
Logos ignored him completely.
Instead, he leaned closer.
The creature's ruined eye followed him weakly.
Tracking.
Still aware.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Then Logos drove the knife downward.
The blade slid between the scales with a wet tearing sound.
Black blood spilled across the frame, guided carefully through carved channels into collection containers beneath the table.
The corpse spasmed violently.
Not dead.
Not alive.
Kleber visibly recoiled.
"…Saints."
Logos continued cutting.
The flesh beneath the scales was wrong.
Muscle fibers twisted around each other in spiral patterns. Veins pulsed despite the absence of a heartbeat.
And deeper still—
Something moved.
Not muscle.
Not organs.
Something else.
Logos paused.
Then inserted two silver hooks into the opening and pulled the cavity wider.
Kleber immediately regretted looking.
Dark growths filled the interior.
Black root-like masses had woven themselves through the organs like invasive vines. Some pulsed slowly. Others twitched when exposed to air.
One recoiled from the lantern light.
Logos's eyes sharpened.
"Parasites."
Kleber looked horrified.
"What?"
Logos picked up a mana probe and pressed it carefully against one of the black growths.
The crystal at its tip flickered violently.
Then cracked.
Logos stared at the shattered probe for several seconds.
Then—
"Hahahahaha…"
The laugh escaped him low and genuine.
"Marvelous."
Kleber groaned loudly.
"What is marvelous?!"
"The corruption reacts aggressively to mana exposure."
Logos's voice had become quieter now.
More focused.
"It behaves less like an illness…"
"…and more like an invasive network."
He cut deeper.
One of the black growths moved again.
Not reflexively.
Purposefully.
The roots recoiled from the blade.
Kleber saw it too.
"You are seeing this, right?"
Logos did not answer immediately.
Instead, he carefully removed one of the growths with silver instruments and dropped it into a sealed glass container.
The thing twitched violently inside the glass.
Then began trying to burrow into itself.
Logos finally spoke.
"Further examination requires additional specimens."
Kleber stared at him in disbelief.
"You want me to go back there?"
"You do not need to retrieve an entire corpse."
"Partial samples are sufficient."
"If you want to kill me," Kleber replied flatly, "just shoot me."
"I know you can accomplish it."
Kleber sighed deeply.
If only this man were slightly normal.
"…Fine."
Then the whisper came again.
Stronger this time.
"…hungry…"
Both men froze.
The corpse's chest twitched once.
Then all movement stopped.
Completely.
The tent fell silent.
Kleber stared at the body for several long seconds.
"…Please tell me we are burning that."
Logos looked down at the opened corpse.
"…Eventually."
That answer somehow sounded worse.
Three Days Later — Angelus Estate, Strategy Room
"Take the Fourth and Fifth Armies."
Sous looked up immediately.
"All of them?"
Duke Solar stood beside the strategy table, one hand resting against the map of Carine Forest spread before him.
"If your report is accurate," he said coldly, "then whatever exists inside that forest cannot be allowed to remain there."
The room was quieter than usual.
No retainers.
No advisors.
Only family.
Only war.
Solar's gaze remained fixed on the marked sections of the forest.
"The deeper regions of Carine were always avoided," he continued. "Old records speak of disappearances. Failed expeditions. Entire patrols never returning."
A pause.
"We assumed most of it was exaggeration."
Sous frowned.
"You think House Angelus knew?"
"No."
Solar answered immediately.
"But I believe our ancestors knew enough to stay away."
That settled heavily between them.
Because ancient noble houses did not fear easily.
And Angelus least of all.
Sous leaned slightly against the table.
"Logos believes the creatures were altered."
That finally made Solar look directly at him.
"Altered?"
"Modified," Sous corrected.
"Not naturally evolved."
Solar's expression hardened slightly.
"Did he say whether they were man-made?"
"No."
Sous paused.
"Not yet."
That word lingered heavily between them.
Yet.
Because both men understood what it implied.
If Logos continued investigating—
Eventually—
He would find an answer.
And if that answer was human—
Everything changed.
Solar straightened slowly.
"Prepare the armies."
"Seal the deeper forest routes."
"And send word to the Crown."
Sous frowned.
"You think it is already that serious?"
Solar looked toward the darkened windows.
"…If those creatures can spread, then yes."
A pause.
"And if someone created them…"
His expression hardened completely.
"…then we are already at war with something we do not understand."