CHAPTER 169: CHAPTER 169: MASSACRE

Deep beneath Amestris City, a vast hollowed-out chamber stretched into the darkness. Faint light flickered from soul-lamps embedded in the ceiling, throwing warped shadows over hundreds of figures clad in black robes. The air was thick — heavy with the scent of rust and ghostly decay.

The one known as Flying Corpse entered in silence. His steps made no sound on the stone floor. Beneath his hood, his eyes burned faintly red, as if something inhuman lived behind them.

He raised a withered hand.

"First squad stays," he rasped. "The rest — resume training."

At once, the crowd dispersed. The mass of black robes flowed like a tide, leaving only six figures standing before him — five from the First Squad, and a smaller shadow that seemed to flicker in and out of visibility.

"I have a task for you," Flying Corpse said, his tone flat, almost mechanical.

The squad leader stepped forward and bowed. "We await your command, Lord Fezi."

Flying Corpse’s crimson gaze flicked toward him. "Not long ago, you returned from a mission. Then you must have heard of Black Tortoise City — that settlement built upon the back of a barbaric beast?"

The captain nodded. "Yes, Lord. Even those of us underground have heard the stories. A mobile fortress on the back of an ancient creature — impossible to miss."

"Good." The hoarse voice dropped lower, colder. "Those people... have stolen something from me. Something precious. You will retrieve it."

The air seemed to grow heavier as he spoke. The captain didn’t dare ask what had been stolen. It wasn’t his place.

"I’ve already traced the aura," Flying Corpse continued. "A tracker confirmed it originated from the Black Tortoise settlement. That’s where you’ll go."

The captain bowed again. "Understood."

"I’ll send a guide." Flying Corpse beckoned toward the door. A short figure in the same black robe shuffled inside — smaller than the others, his eyes milky white. "This one will lead you. His kind never loses a trail."

"Then the First Squad will not fail," the captain said, clasping his fist.

Flying Corpse waved a dismissive hand. "See that you don’t."

The six figures turned as one and vanished down the corridor, leaving only silence behind.

They emerged hours later through a narrow passage beneath the outer ruins of the city. Cold night wind brushed their faces as they stepped into the wilderness — a barren plain where the faint tremor of a massive beast could be felt through the ground.

"Lead the way," the captain ordered.

"Yes," said the tracker ghost in a whisper. He sniffed the air once, then began moving forward in a loping, spider-like gait. His path was precise, almost instinctive, following faint spiritual residue invisible to normal eyes.

They reached the cliffside at the base of the massive creature — the Rock Tortoise, whose shell carried the entire fortress-city above. The tracker pointed upward. "There. The aura leads to the upper platform."

Without hesitation, the captain’s hands turned black and metallic, his fingers elongating like blades. He plunged them into the rocky surface and began climbing. The others followed, each revealing their unique talents — one’s arms liquefied into tendrils that adhered to the stone; another’s legs split into clawed limbs that clutched with insect-like precision.

"Captain," murmured one of them, a woman whose eyes glowed faintly green. "There are silk threads across the path ahead — traps, or surveillance."

"You lead, Detector," said the captain. "Guide us through."

The woman nodded and crept ahead, weaving silently through the invisible web of traps. The rest followed like shadows.

Halfway up the wall, she froze. "Wait. A powerful aura is moving toward us. Something dangerous."

"Phantom," the captain said evenly. "Your turn."

A tall man with silver hair pressed his hand to the rock. "Stay close. Don’t move."

At once, the air around them shimmered. One by one, their bodies faded — erased from sight and sound.

They waited.

A hiss echoed through the darkness — the forked tongue of a massive three-colored lizard flicking out, tasting the air. Its eyes, reptilian and cold, scanned the rock face. For an instant it seemed to sense something amiss.

Then, finding nothing, it turned and slithered away.

The invisible ghosts waited a full minute before anyone breathed again.

"It’s gone," whispered the Detector.

Everyone exhaled in unison.

"Move," the captain ordered. "We’re losing time."

Their ascent resumed. For the rest of the climb, nothing interrupted them except the distant whir of flying insects brushing the tortoise’s shell.

At last, they reached the outer wall of Black Tortoise City. The night was quiet, the air still. The lights above the battlements flickered dimly.

"Any patrols?" the captain asked.

"None," replied the Detector, scanning the area.

"Good. We go over quietly."

The captain’s fingers bit into the wall once more, pulling his body upward. But as he neared the top, a prickle ran down his spine. Someone was watching him.

He looked up.

A figure stood silhouetted against the torchlight — tall, calm, and smiling faintly.

"Yo," the stranger said, raising a hand in greeting. "Good evening."

The captain’s heart seized. Without a word, he lunged, his arm transmuting into solid steel, striking like a blade.

The stranger — Luciel — didn’t even flinch. Black eyes narrowed, and glowing lines like golden circuitry flared across his arm.

He caught the steel hand in his palm.

Clang!

The air rang like a bell. Sparks burst in every direction.

The captain gritted his teeth and tried to pull back. He couldn’t. Luciel’s grip was immovable — like being caught by the world itself.

Then the sound of bone snapping filled the air.

"Aaagh—!"

Luciel’s expression didn’t change. He twisted the man’s arm until it bent backward like soft metal. The captain screamed once more — and then Luciel drove that broken, iron-hard arm straight through his chest.

Blood misted in the air.

Luciel let the body fall over the edge.

"Captain?" someone gasped below.

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then the detector shouted, "Retreat! Run!"

He didn’t finish the second word. Luciel’s shadow blurred — he was already behind him, standing horizontally against the city wall as if gravity were a mere suggestion.

"Going somewhere?" Luciel asked softly.

The deputy reacted instantly — propelling himself backward, trying to drop toward the ground. But below him, the air rippled. A sphere of water appeared from nowhere, swallowing him whole.

Two others were caught as well, their cries muffled as they thrashed within the translucent orb. The water churned into a vortex, dragging them toward the center.

The last two ghosts clung to the wall, frozen in terror — the Detector and Phantom, the invisible one.

The Detector’s voice trembled. "Impossible... I didn’t sense anyone. How could he—?"

Luciel appeared beside her. No sound, no warning. Only a cold breath against her cheek.

He lifted one finger and touched her forehead.

A crackling frost spread instantly from the point of contact. Her eyes widened as ice consumed her face, her body, her soul. Within a second, she was a frozen sculpture, still wearing her final expression of disbelief.

Luciel flicked his hand, and the ice statue fell — plunging into the water sphere below. The liquid froze solid, becoming a single massive block of ice with three corpses trapped inside.

"Three fifth-tier... two sixth-tier," Luciel murmured, counting calmly. "And one more hiding."

Above, Phantom trembled. He had activated his invisibility, not daring to breathe.

He can’t see me... he can’t see me, he repeated in his mind like a mantra.

Luciel tilted his head slightly, as though listening to something only he could hear. Then he smirked. "Ah. An invisibility-type. Clever trick. But not clever enough."

He turned away, walking along the wall as if disinterested.

Phantom almost sobbed with relief — until the stone beneath him pulsed. The wall itself began to ripple like liquid earth.

"No—!"

Mud surged around him, swallowing his invisible form, hardening in an instant. A sarcophagus of rock and soil sealed shut, silencing his final gasp.

Luciel paused, brushing a speck of dust from his coat. "That’s all of them," he said quietly. "Next time, perhaps send something challenging."

He glanced toward the city interior, where faint lights shimmered over the buildings of Black Tortoise.

The lizard on patrol hissed softly beside him, lowering its head in submission.

Luciel patted its snout. "Good work. We’ll need more of your kind soon. Keeps the place tidy."

He turned and walked back into the fortress, the night wind whispering around him.

Below, on the shell of the massive tortoise, the remnants of the first squad lay frozen — twisted within ice and stone. The silence of death pressed down, absolute and final.

In less than thirty seconds, the strongest ghost unit of Amestris City — the pride of the underground — had been completely annihilated.

....

Imagine a city perched on the back of a giant turtle, moving slowly across endless lands or oceans... and maybe even more fantastical wonders! I’d love to see your visions of this world.

Draw it, paint it, design it, or digitally render it—your imagination is the limit!

📌 Post your creations right here in the comments or replies—I can’t wait to see how you bring our world to life! ✨