...Crack!

Moulin and the others flinched as a bump appeared on the stoned floor.

The stone bricks were cracked like the hatching of an egg. Rowan turned his head and signaled the crowd to retreat to the doors. The elven warriors all lined up in front of the people with their weapons drawn, creating a defensive line as they faced the maeruthans surrounding the youth with white hair and silver eyes.

A frosty mist circled Moulin's hands as he narrowed his eyes warily. Gazing down at the bump on the floor.

Crack!

Moulin took a step back when the crack grew larger. "Snow, come here..."

Under his master's orders, Snow hastily scurried away to prowl beside Moulin's feet. The little fox snarled, sensing a threat. The youth picked him up and settled him back in his satchel. His eyes resumed to suspiciously watch the crack on the floor. There was something underneath. From Snow's reaction, it doesn't seem favorable. Decisively, Moulin opened his palms forward to seal the crack with ice.

No matter what it was, He cannot let it enter the room.

However, before he could perform it, black liquid seeped from the slits of the crack. Sickeningly oozing from the cracks and pooling into the crevices of the stoned floor. What made it more revolting was its wriggling movements... like slimy black tentacles doused in black fluid.

The sentinels took a step back. Disgust was evident in their expressions. Unconsciously, they waited for Moulin's move. The youth's awareness seemed to be trustworthy.

Moulin narrowed his eyes.

He remembered the black sludge-like liquid that oozed out from the monster's skin at the battlement. Without a second thought, Moulin activated his mana and exhausted his energy to seal the floor with a thick sheet of solid ice. This time he conjured ice that was as strong as steel and as cold as the frigid mountain camps of Rafelon. The only disadvantage was...

"Augh..." Moulin felt a sharp pain enter his head. He felt dizzy and exhausted. With quickened breathing, he struggled to keep his body balance as he stood.

"What is that?" Staring at the thick ice on the floor, Rowan asked as he neared Moulin. He recognized the exhaustion on the youth's face and signaled the sentinels to come forward as he helped Moulin walk behind the row of sentinels.

"I do not know... but I feel it is not something good..." Replied Moulin as he held his head.

"You need to rest. Don't keep exerting yourself." Rowan sighed with drawn eyebrows. He glanced at the sentinels behind and stopped as they neared the floor of ice.

Crack!

Moulin and Rowan flinched. Alarm crossed Rowan's face as he quickly turned around to stop the nearing sentinels. "STOP!-"

BOOM!

A loud explosion broke from the ice floor!

The people cried out and the children wailed a the torched were extinguished by the chilly mist that spreads out within the room. Moulin shut his eyes tight as he felt rock and dust rain on his body. The sound of anxious cries filled his ears as he clutched the strap of his satchel.

The explosion was brief as silence descended for a couple of seconds before the elves conjured orbs of glowing mana to light the room. Although the mist was concealing the whole view of the room, everyone could see the faint light of the spheres and they hurried to run toward it. Towards the far end of the room. The anxious murmurs of the people didn't cease.

Moulin breathed out as he removed his arm from his face and stood. It was hard to see with all the chilly smoke around. It was dense and hard to see.

"Grr..." Snow suddenly growled within the satchel, catching Moulin's attention. With loud pounding heartbeats, Moulin materialized an ice sword within his grasp. He heard the painful groans of sentinels as he closed his eyes to concentrate on his hearing.

He heard it...

The predatory growling. Moulin swallowed as silence engulfed the area. The icy surface of the hilt of his sword seemed to prick into his skin. There was the sound of claws scraping the floor and the pungent smell of iron. It was coming towards him. Moulin opened his eyes, narrowing them, and swiftly turned to dodge an opened jaw aiming towards his stomach. The sharp teeth brushed his clothes and with a sharp wing of his sword the massive head was severed.

Crack!

Black blood splattered on his uniform as the body fell heavily on the stoned ground. The head rolled and instantly stopped as ice swallowed it. The body as well.

Moulin's heart pounded. It wasn't the monsters from the wall!

The body before his feet was humanoid. Naked black fluid-like skin. Its head was faceless except for it's gruesome wide mouth. Its nails had turned into sharp claws. Furthermore, like the monsters at the shores, they were covered in black fluid.

'RAAAGH!!'

"Look out!" Rowan's voice warned Moulin.

Silver eyes narrowed as Moulin flicked the blood off his sword and once again, swiveled to the side and pierce the neck of an incoming humanoid creature.

Crack!

Moulin expression changed when he felt like he had cut something solid in half. As he sliced off the head, he watched as a tiny blue round core within the stump of the severed neck was sliced in half. It was smaller than half of his thumb. The orb crumbled into dust and the body fell with a heavy thud.

"Puppets!" Moulin muttered as he stared down at the lifeless body. "The cores are in the center of their necks!" He shouted for the others to hear.

Soon enough, the sound of slashing blended with the agonizing cries of the puppets and the blood-curdling screams of the sentinels and elves.

"Seal the hole!" Rowan's voice resounded throughout the room as the doors creaked. The people were struggling to take away the metal bar locking them inside. Panic rose and the people turned chaotic. The whole room trembled as massive roots pierced from beneath the stoned floor, weaving into a wall, dividing half the room. The roots continued to weave themselves under the chant of the elves as sentinels gathered before the walk to continue raining attacks on the puppets reaching out, desperate to claw their way through the roots. A barrier was then invoked, rising from before the walk of roots to the stoned ceiling to strengthen the wall. Once it was finished, Moulin and the others fought to finish off the other puppets that had escaped the wall.

Slash!

Moulin huffed as he finished off one of the last incoming puppets. When he heard a crack, he narrowed his eyes as he cut off the head in one clean swing. His chest heaved as sweat fell from his brow. He could feel his fingers tremble around the sword and the sluggishness of his movements. He predicted that he would definitely fall unconscious by the next second if more of his energy was exhausted.

When the mist had slowly vanished, the smell of the room was extremely disgusting. Giving one the urge to hurl. The scene was dreadfully horrifying well as the corpses of the puppets melted into a pool of black liquid. There were only a few of the elves left to guard the hostages. Moulin had noticed some of the silver-eyed people had died during the blinded battle. There were mournful cries for the lives lost.

He lowered his head as exhaustion creeps into his head. His vision suddenly became blurry. Moulin was now uncertain of his state. Unaware of the puppet crawling towards his feet, claws scraping on the floor, jaws open ready to pierce through flesh and bone.

"Look out!!"

Moulin felt a pushed and he fell on the floor with a thud. His awareness returned and he forced himself to sit up. Silver eyes constricted as Rowan standing before him, arm bitten, clamped in the jaws of the puppet, was reflected in the moistened layer of Moulin's eyes.

"Augh!"

Rowan hastily pierced a spear through the humanoid's neck and a crack was heard. He watched the revolting body melt into the ground with disgust. The sting on his arm was strong and numbing. He cursed as his arm twitched. Black veins started to form in less than a minute.

"Sir Rowan!"

Moulin pushed himself off the ground.

"Don't!"

Rowan hissed as he turned to Moulin. He breathed in sharply as he watched the blackness spread from the bite on his forearm. Gnashing his teeth, he held his arm at the excruciating agony. The gears in his head turned as he realized what was happening. With heavy breaths, he muttered. "I'm turning. An infection is spreading..."

"What?" Moulin's eyes widened in alarm. A sentinel limped towards Rowan and Moulin, "Sir! The wounded soldiers... there's something wrong with them..."

Moulin shifted his gaze. A few of the soldiers and elves fallen to the ground, clutching their bleeding limbs and groaning in pain. Those who were alright hurried to circle the crowd in a defensive line. The children wailed as the adults trembled in fear, leaning close to the shut metal doors.

"M-Moulin..." Rowan's knees crashed on the ground as his eyes met the youth's silver ones. With a clenched jaw, he implored with a slightly shaking voice. His eyes were resolute as if he had come to a decision. "Please... hand me a dagger..."

Moulin's expression changed. Reluctance crossed his face as he shook his head and his silver eyes hardened. "You will not die..." His voice sounded certain. "There must be a way..."

Anger bursts in Rowan's eyes as disbelief marred his face, "I don't know why the lord would find your annoying stubbornness appealing. It sickens me... If you want to end my suffering then do what I say. Or would you rather have these innocent people die under my hands as well?"

Moulin's eyes darkened. "I've always known your dislike towards me. And I find it childish. Stop being a stubborn mule and let me find something to help." He hissed. "I do not want to owe someone a life debt especially when that someone is about to turn into something..."

Rowan furrowed his brows. "Are you stupid?"

"Shut up..." Moulin looked around. What was there to help... They have no healers inside and the infection was spreading faster than he thought. A suffocating thirty seconds passed and Moulin watched as the soldiers screamed out in agony, knives ready to take their own lives.

"Ao!"

Moulin looked down and saw Snow. A candle between his teeth. Moulin stopped for a second as the dying words of Phuna's father entered his mind like an echo.

He materialized a dagger in his hand and took the candle. Resting the edge of the blade on the body of the long candle, he scraped of petal-like wax hurriedly. He was doing it so fast, he had scraped his palms and fingers.

When he was finally finished, alarm filled his heart as his eyes glanced on Rowan whose eyes had entirely turned black. Mouth gaping as he suppressed a painful shout, drool fell from his chins. Moulin kneeled in front of him and tried to feed him the wax petal. Rowan hastily evaded his hand, "What do you think you are doing?!"

Moulin grasped his jaw, angrily. He hissed, "Eat it If you want to live, you fool! Do it or I'll shove it down your throat!" He didn't waste a second before Moulin shoved the petal to the man's mouth and clamped mouth shut with one hand. "Swallow"

Rowan felt the petal melt on his tongue and the bitter liquid trickled down his throat in one gulp. His eyes widened as he felt a warm sensation enter his body, spreading outwards.

"Hurry! Come!" Moulin called for the rest of the elves to help him distribute the wax petals to the injured people.

It will work. He knew it will work...