Chapter 191: Beat Them With Bath Water
...Frown marched forward into the winding passage with a hundred of his finest—elite soldiers cloaked in hardened armor, swords and spears brimming with soul energy, all their weapons raised and ready. Yet amidst the heavy tension, Frown alone walked like a lord, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unbothered, even amused.
The two young naga girls were pushed ahead of the formation, their scales dusty, faces bruised, eyes wide with terror. They couldn’t have been older than sixteen. Even then, they slithered with the grace inherent in their race, though fear trembled in their eyes. Frown made sure they remained at the forefront—a reminder to the Medusas that any ambush or retaliation would result in the girls’ deaths.
The passage narrowed before opening up into a cavernous space glowing with a sinister crimson light. Divine runes flowed across the stone walls, ceiling, and floor like rivers of molten script. They pulsed and throbbed like veins of some ancient beast. And at the very center of it all, surrounded by a spinning formation of layered sigils, was the Red Anchor Stone of Destruction—a jagged crimson crystal the size of a man’s torso, floating and spinning ominously in the air.
Frown exhaled slowly, his lips curling.
"Finally... there it is." His voice echoed through the chamber. "The Dark Lord himself has blessed my hand today."
He gave a short wave. "Retrieve it."
Two soldiers stepped forward immediately, eyes alight with greed and reverence. But as one of them stepped on a loose stone, the sound of ancient gears grinding filled the air. It was the unmistakable groan of ancient engineering springing to life.
Click. Click. Click.
Suddenly, dozens—no, hundreds—of small holes opened across the walls like yawning eyes. And from them came a sound like wind snapping through a hundred bows.
TCH-TCH-TCH-TCH-TCH!
A storm of tiny black arrows blasted through the cavern like a swarm of angry hornets. The soldiers screamed and raised their soul energies in panic. Some managed to throw up their shields in time, deflecting the death hail. But others weren’t so lucky. Arrows punched through exposed eyes, necks, joints in armor. Some were pinned to the stone walls like broken dolls, their bodies twitching as blood gushed from dozens of puncture wounds. One man’s scream was cut short when three bolts shot straight through his open mouth, nailing his head to the floor.
Even the elite panicked.
The naga girls dropped to the ground instinctively, but the arrows that touched their skin bounced off harmlessly. Their scaled bodies shimmered faintly—natural armor evolved over centuries of survival. Even Frown, who had taken a few arrows to his chest and arms, simply watched them clatter off his body like pebbles on steel. His soul energy was strong enough to shrug off these old traps.
But his eyes narrowed when he saw the girls untouched.
"...Hmph. So they made this to kill only humans?"
His face twisted into a sneer. In one brutal motion, he grabbed one of the naga girls by her arm and yanked her up. "Do you think I’m a fool?! You planned this, didn’t you!?" he roared at the cavern walls.
And before anyone could blink—
SCHK!
He sliced through her arm with a jagged dagger. The blade carved through muscle and bone in one clean cut. Her scream was piercing—agony, raw and high, echoing through the sacred chamber. Blood sprayed across the glowing runes. The other naga girl shrieked, tears falling as she tried to pull away, but soldiers gripped her tight, their knuckles white.
"ENOUGH!" a voice boomed.
The chamber trembled with the weight of it.
It was Queen Eli.
Her voice rang out from hidden speaker soul stones embedded in the walls. "You have touched our snake tribe. Prepare for death."
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then a strange sound began to stir—not the grind of metal or the hum of runes, but the hissing rush of wind.
No—not wind. Mist.
From the same holes the arrows had shot out, a rush of silver-white mist began to pour into the chamber, thick and serpentine. It slithered along the ground and rose like a living tide, wrapping itself around the legs of the soldiers. It had a scent—something ancient and sweet. He coukd almost taste it.
Frown’s eyes narrowed.
"...Gas?"
But it wasn’t just gas.
The mist shimmered. Then, all at once, it opened glowing eyes—dozens of slits of bright yellow light in the fog.
And something began to hiss.
The mist thickened.
At first, it was just confusion. Then screaming. Horrible, mindless screaming.
One soldier turned and buried his blade deep into his comrade’s thigh, then pulled it out and used it to stab himself in the eye. "Give me your presence oh divine God. I killed for you... I KILLED FOR YOU!"
Another began smashing his skull against the wall until the sickening crack of bone echoed through the cavern. They clawed at their faces, ripped off helmets, tore at their own flesh as if possessed.
The air was filled with sounds of snapping jaws, weeping, maniacal laughter.
Frown spun around, eyes wide. "Stop! Hold formation!" But no one listened.
Soldiers were now wrestling each other to the ground, biting, gnashing. Some even began eating the flesh of the fallen. One man tore out his own tongue and offered it to a wall, whispering, "Is this what you wanted, Divine God!?"
Frown’s face twisted in disgust. "The hell is this mist?" he barked, leaping back with supernatural grace, the bloodied naga girl still dangling in one arm like a sack of meat. His other hand covered his nose tightly, but the damage had been done. The mist had already slipped in. He could feel it — twisting something deep, something ancient, something repressed.
A voice echoed through the cave, chilling and amused.
"Oh, that?" Queen Eli’s voice purred. "That’s just mist from my husband’s bath water. It made Evan the Untouchable go mad. And he was strong. It’ll do wonders on you and your men."
Queen Eli had decided to preserve this after seeing what happened to Evan the untouchable.
She was a very smart woman. Eros was filled with incredibly distilled yang from the cosmos. While it was a natural aphrodisiac to women, and still made them crazy for pleasure. It made men run mad.
Back When Eros was here, she once asked him why someone like Evan could not stand his essence. And he replied, "because men and women are wired differently when it comes to pleasure. S man’s brain can only take so much."
From then, another thought came to her mind.
What if a time comes when they is no Eros?
This thought was scary.
She already knew the Medusas and nagas used to steal Eros bath water for themselves after he was done. It gave them an exotic feeling. After the battle with Evan the Untouchable, this plan came to mind.
She took the water and specially preserved it. Since most battles are fought by men, she knew time would come.
But just sending it as water was not enough. It woukd take time for it to be effective. But not if they also inhaled it. An incredible idea.
Frown staggered back two more steps. "No... That’s impossible..." he hissed. He tried to channel energy to force it out, but the feelings grew stronger — alien urges clawing through his mind.
His fingers twitched.
For a heartbeat, the image of Eros, bare-chested and grinning, flashed in his mind — his sweat glistening like stars in the steam. The thought made him lurch forward in horror.
"NO!!"
He screamed into the air, slamming his palms together with a thunderous clap.
"Grand Order Mystic Face technique... Soul—OPEN!!"
A massive blast of soul energy erupted from his body, radiating in every direction like a quake of divine fury. His skin shimmered, taking on a hard, silver sheen, like polished steel kissed by moonlight. The chaotic mist recoiled slightly, unable to fully corrode such an intense aura. His eyes now glowed faint blue — his soul form was active.
But Queen Eli, watching from the hidden crevice, cursed under her breath.
"Shit. He can release a soul form... That is power beyond the soul appstle realm."
Her eyes narrowed. "If we don’t bring him down now, he’ll tear this mountain apart."
She turned to the side and gave the signal.
"All snake tribe — attack!"
Without delay, compartments hidden in the walls slammed open. Snake women — Medusas and Nagas alike — slithered out in full combat gear, eyes glowing, war cries echoing through the caves. Some held chained daggers dripping with green venom. Others bore serrated glaives, polearms, and bone-carved short blades passed down through the generations.
From the upper ledges, archers with snake-bows took position, their arrows already glowing with enchantments.
The mountain had awakened....