Chapter 32: Cleansing (2)
After several minutes of walking through the cracked earth and drifting ash, Misha immediately noticed something was wrong. The air felt heavy and it pressed against her skin and settled in her lungs like damp cloth.
The thing stood half-buried in stone, crooked and ugly, with old carvings spiraling up its sides. A faint red glow leaked through the symbols and crawled over the surface like blood beneath skin.
Then, something moved beside the altar.
The soil bulged and a corpse-like figure clawed its way out of the ground, dragging itself forward with jerky, desperate movements. Dirt spilled off its gray limbs, and its mouth hung open too wide. The ghoul twisted its neck toward them with a wet crack.
Misha reached for her rapier but Gerbaut moved first, his spear flashed once.
The ghoul dropped before the sound fully left its throat.
"Start cleansing," he ordered.
Misha nodded before she stepped closer to the altar, though every instinct in her body told her to stay back. The red glow painted a faint stain across her hands. Cold pressure seeped into her skin, as if the thing noticed her and didn’t like what she was intending to do.
「 Trait in Effect: Analytical Thinking 」
「 Pattern recognition increased. 」
「 Structure analysis engaged. 」
Misha’s eyes tracked the structure instinctively, and the altar stopped looking like one solid object. It broke apart in her mind into weak points, seams, and supports. As she circled the structure, she noticed the cracks, the load-bearing joints, and the uneven weight distribution.
She glanced at Gerbaut. "Can’t I just hit it really hard?"
Another ghoul crawled out of the ground behind him. Without even looking, Gerbaut thrust his spear backward and pinned it through the head.
"No. Remove the structure."
Misha looked back at the altar, then at him again. "That still sounds like I should hit it..."
"It means dismantle it." He tapped the lower section with the butt of his spear. "The base matters."
She groaned, her shoulders sagged. "Fantastic." Misha deadpanned. "I always wanted to fight evil masonry."
Gerbaut ignored her and stabbed a third ghoul through the throat before it could lunge.
Misha blew out a breath, crouched, and drew her dagger.
"Okay," she muttered to herself. "Let’s do this, Misha. If you survived a murder maze, then you can absolutely bully a rock."
She slid her dagger into a narrow crack near the bottom of the altar. Cold stone scraped along the blade. She tightened her grip and pushed but the altar held firm.
"Oh, come on!"
She bared her teeth, and twisted harder. A sharp vibration ran up her arm, buzzing through her wrist. The blade trembled in her hand, metal whining against the stone. She shifted the angle, sucked in a breath, and put her weight into it.
Then–
Her dagger snapped.
Tink!
The broken tip bounced across the ground.
Misha stared at the ruined blade. "Shit..."
For a second, she just knelt there with half a dagger in her hand and the strong, overwhelming urge to lie down on the ground.
That dagger had already survived more floors than felt reasonable. It had made it through goblins, ghouls, panic, and several moments that should have killed her. And it lost to masonry.
Then she pulled out her remaining ones. Just like the first, they were ugly, chipped, and unreliable-looking little murder tools.
Her eyes twitched. "Great."
"Fantastic," she grunted
"Amazing." Then she heaved out a sigh. "I really need to buy a new one before all my gear dies out of spite."
She wedged one dagger into the crack and used the second to brace it. This time, she worked slower. She watched the seams and followed the tiny shifts in the stone.
Dust clung to her fingers and grit scraped under her nails. Then a thin crack crawled upward, a faint trickle of dust slipped down the altar’s side. Its red glow flickered.
Misha’s heartbeat quickened. "There," she whispered, her eyes widening. "Saw it."
She drove one dagger deeper into the weakened gap and levered with the other. Stone grated against stone with a harsh grinding shriek that made her teeth ache. A small block shifted.
"Move," she hissed.
She grunted, twisted harder, and ripped it free with a sharp scrape. The chunk tumbled across the floor and burst into dust at the edges.
The glow weakened but it wasn’t enough.
She leaned in, her upgraded [Trait] sharpened everything. Patterns lined themselves up in her head, each flaw calling for pressure in exactly the right place. She pried loose a second block, then to a third. Each one came loose with more resistance than the last.
Dust puffed into her face and sweat slipped down the side of her temple. The altar trembled under her hands.
One more. That was the heart of it. She just knew it.
Then, movement flashed at the edge of her vision.
"WRUAAH!"
A ghoul lunged from the side, jaw hanging wide, and fingers hooked like claws.
Misha’s body moved before fear could catch up. She twisted on instinct, brought her daggers up, and drove them forward with all the force panic could lend.
The blades punched into the ghoul’s skull with a wet crack. The impact slammed through her wrists. Then the ghoul collapsed at her knees.
Misha froze for a half beat, breathing hard.
「 You have killed a Ghoul!
EXP +5 」
「 Fear response suppressed. 」
「 Cognitive clarity maintained. 」
She swallowed hard.
Old her would have screamed so hard she might have summoned more ghouls by accident. Jumpscares had always destroyed her. She hated it the most.
"Hoo..." She let out a shaky breath and shoved the dead ghoul off her dagger with a disgusted grimace. "No warning... Rude."
Gerbaut cut down another one behind her. "Keep working."
"I am working," she shot back. "I’m multitasking under emotional distress."
"You sound fine."
"That’s because my trauma currently has excellent time management." She jabbed a thumb toward the dead ghoul. "Also, weren’t you supposed to guard me?"
Gerbaut glanced at her. "You handled it."
She could only glare at him as she watched him shrug before he turned and skewer another ghoul shambling too close.
She rolled her eyes before she turned back to the altar.
One more block.
She shoved the daggers under loosened stone, braced her boots, and pushed with everything she had. Her shoulders shook from strain, and the muscles in her arms burned.
Then the base gave, and a deep grinding tremor rolled through the altar.
Misha stumbled back as cracks shot up its body in jagged glowing lines. The glow collapsed inward, pulsing wildly, then snapped out all at once.
The altar split down the middle and crumbled with a heavy, final crash.
「 〔SYSTEM NOTICE〕
Altar Cleansed (7/12) 」
Misha sat back on her heels and wiped sweat from her forehead with a dirty hand. Her pulse still thudded in her ears.
"That’s..." She glanced at the broken remains and snorted. " Cleanse my ass... it’s way less magical than I expected."
Gerbaut walked past her and yanked his spear free from another fallen ghoul. "That’s how most things die in the tower."
Misha stared blankly at him.
He said it so casually like that sentence belonged on a motivational poster for psychopaths.
Seriously, had Olivia rubbed off on him?
Misha instantly regretted that thought. No, worse– she had.
The memory flashed into her head without permission and made her skin crawl.
"I need bleach for my brain and a knife for my eyes," she whispered to herself.
She pushed herself to her feet with a tired sigh before her thoughts got any more cursed. She looked toward the next distant altar, where dark smoke twisted into the sky.
"Three more," she muttered. Then she shot Gerbaut a glare and pointed one of her daggers at him. "My wrists are filing a formal complaint! It’s your turn to play miner on the next one okay spear boy?!"
