Chapter 357: The Hero

The monster had originally only been slightly taller than a human, and from afar, it still bore some semblance of its former humanity.

But now, what stood before the barricade was a towering mass of flesh nearly two stories tall.

Its hands flailed to grab, its legs braced to move forward, its eyes bled, and its mouth howled. Countless limbs were fused into this grotesque heap of flesh and blood.

At the very moment they saw it, everyone on the defense line froze.

An indescribable terror, like a cold, giant hand, slowly clenched around each person’s heart.

Terror—indescribable, unfathomable fear—rendered the cultists of the Cult of the Hidden unable to even flee.

Under extreme fear, humans didn’t run. They froze. It was the instinctive response of a creature facing its natural predator—or rather, its suppressor.

It was said that when goats in the Southern Continent were stared down by lions, they wouldn’t run. They’d just stand there, unmoving, and watch themselves be eaten alive, bit by bit.

And now, everyone here was facing extreme fear—the natural predator of humankind.

The monster reached out and scooped two cultists from the rooftop, stuffing them into its mouth. After a few chews, it spat out a mangled lump of metal—that was the musket swallowed along with them.

Then, the monster turned its head toward Josh, who stood on the rooftop, and reached out without hesitation.

More limbs sprouted from its arm—arms, ears, hair. The massive hand quickly extended before his eyes.

I’m going to die. Run! Run! Run!!

His mind screamed, desperately trying to urge his body into motion, but his body remained frozen like a stone statue, completely immobile.

Josh wanted to close his eyes in despair, but he couldn’t even manage that simple act. He could only watch, wide-eyed, as the grotesque face on that massive hand loomed closer in his field of vision, wailing as if heralding his end.

But just as it was about to reach him, his vision suddenly shifted upward—above the giant hand, toward the narrow sky of the alleyway.

Boom!

The monster missed, slamming into the nearby rooftop. Bricks and rotted wood came crashing down.

Suddenly, Josh could move again. His dulled will regained control of his body. Coughing, he rolled over and turned to the side.

Someone had just pulled him—dragged him away from the monster’s grasp.

“.Zoe!?”

It was Zoe. She too was covered in dust, her sleeve torn open, fresh blood flowing down her arm.

Everyone else had frozen, but not her. As the monster crashed onto the roof, she had charged over desperately—barely managing to rescue Josh.

How could she move?

That question flashed through Josh’s mind, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the monster, he and Zoe rushed to awaken the others around them.

“W-what happened?”

“A monster! A monster!! That’s a monster, aaaaahhhhh!!!”

“W-we can’t possibly fight those things…”

The cultists snapped out of their stupor, but many lost their minds on the spot. Some howled, some threw down their weapons, and some even ran into the walls crying.

“Hold the line! Grab your weapons! Fill that breach!”

Josh shouted in a panic, trying to command. Though he tried not to show it on his face, his heart was sinking fast.

Morale had all but collapsed. The defense line here couldn’t hold. But beyond it were the cultists—there was nowhere to retreat.

If this place fell, the withdrawal would become a rout. Even without an enemy chase, the broken order would cause the cultists to trample one another to death. Who knew how many would die?

Josh gritted his teeth and picked up a musket from a fallen cultist. He had never fought with a weapon before. His legs trembled violently. It took all his strength just to move a few steps forward to stand at the front line.

The smoke and dust began to clear. Through the cracks between the rubble, Josh peered ahead—dark and gaping.

It was the wide-open maw of the monster, hideous and grotesque, emitting a stench mixed with sorrowful wails.

It bit down on the fortifications. The hastily assembled barricade stood no chance.

Stones and wood flew apart. Josh took a brick full on the face, his vision exploding with stars as he collapsed.

When he staggered to his feet, the light before his eyes suddenly vanished.

Sunlight spilling into the alleyway had been blocked.

Josh instinctively looked up, his vision rising higher and higher. He tilted back so far he lost balance and fell onto the rubble.

The mountain of flesh stood right before him, chewing relentlessly. Wood and stone crunched under its jaws, making a nauseating sound.

Then the chewing stopped.

Josh heard a loud swallow. The monster shifted, stirring up a foul wind, and lowered its head to look at the small figure sitting before it.

This time, Josh didn’t freeze. He immediately tried to flee, but after struggling to kick out, he realized—one leg had been completely buried in the collapsed ruins. He couldn't feel it anymore.

He looked down. Dark red blood slowly oozed out.

It’s over.

He was going to die after all. He shouldn’t have stepped up just now. He should’ve run—like the Prince did.

The monster’s gaping maw slowly opened. Time seemed to slow. His thoughts drifted, his life flashing before his eyes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have founded the Cult of the Hidden. Back then, he had money and goods. He could’ve picked any place to escape. Surviving wouldn’t have been hard.

Castel was gone. What was he even clinging to?

Maybe during the last uprising, he should’ve left with Granny. With her protection, he would’ve made it back to Castel safely. The Church Guard could’ve taken over the cult. Maybe all this trouble would’ve been avoided.

Maybe, when Zoe saved him just now, he should’ve just fled. The cult would’ve lost many, but he had done his best. He shouldn't have picked up the spear, shouldn't have stood on a battlefield that wasn’t his, shouldn't have faced a monster he couldn’t defeat.

He should’ve done what the Prince did—abandon every responsibility, and just leave.

Josh closed his eyes.

Could he do it?

To just walk away, to abandon everything he carried, and run for his life?

If given the choice again, would he still, with trembling hands, pick up that spear and stand before the monster?

Josh closed his eyes—at least this time, he could close them. He didn’t have to face reality.

He thrust the spear forward. It was all he could do. Even if this weapon, before the monster, was nothing more than a pathetic toothpick.

Time seemed to stop.

Josh couldn’t help but open his eyes—and then froze completely.

The monster’s enormous body swayed—and fell to the side. The spear he had thrust out was still lodged in its body.

Impossible? How…

Josh looked past the fallen monster.

A dense formation of soldiers stood behind it, rifles raised. Leading them was a man on horseback, wielding a curved blade. Sunlight reflected off his blade, casting glimmers of cold light through the alley.

Josh recognized him.

It was the Lord of Blood Harbor, Duke Tis—The Prince.

He had returned.