Pirate Phantom
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Chapter 44: The Root Serpent’s Fear
🕑 Added 2025-07-29 11:38:27 +0000 UTC“It’s finally almost over…”
Deep beneath the sewer tunnels, an unmarked passage twisted with darkness as the massive, writhing creature—the Root Serpent—slithered forward. Su, who had lamented his luck ever since entering the Fractured, swayed his head. As someone branded under the evil alignment, redeeming himself wasn’t easy.
Even after he’d managed to latch onto a connection with the noble military...
There was no telling when some justice-obsessed NPC might snap and come charging in to take his head clean off.
Without war merit, even if he was cleared of past crimes, Su knew he’d still be shackled by his former reputation. That’s why he’d kept a card up his sleeve: while the Kasath Reclamation Army had officially created five Root Serpents, the truth was that there was a sixth—one gestating in secret, using the body of an Abyssbound as its vessel.
Once the Root Serpent matured, it would mark the true victory of the Kasath Reclamation Army.
And Su, armed with this crucial information…
Would be in the perfect position to guide the elite NPCs into an ambush at the moment of the Root Serpent's convergence, seizing war merit for himself.
As Su schemed his next steps in silence, the grotesque, caterpillar-like abomination—its rotting, pus-laden body covered in black fungal blooms like malformed flowers—suddenly froze mid-crawl, its unsettling screech rising in pitch.
The Root Serpent had stopped. That alone startled Su.
To his memory, this creature had never once displayed something as human as fear. It lived for one thing only: to spread Abyssal infection as far and wide as possible. Even the threat of death hadn’t been enough to slow it down.
Yet here it was—terrified.
What could possibly be more frightening than death itself?
Su instinctively turned to look down the path ahead. It was nothing but darkness—plain, familiar darkness. He’d spent so long crawling through sewers and muck, it almost felt like home.
But this time… his spine tingled.
“Who’s there?” he called out lowly, still seeing nothing. But he knew—anything that could make a Root Serpent recoil in terror was far beyond his ability to handle.
Tap… tap…
There was no answer. Only the crisp echo of slow, deliberate bootsteps on the damp stone. The sound echoed through the tunnel, calm and unhurried. From the heart of that darkness emerged a silhouette clad in black.
The Root Serpent recoiled violently, then curled up on itself in a tight coil. It trembled, letting out pitiful whimpers, like it was begging for its life.
Seeing that, Su—surprisingly—calmed down.
Whatever happened next… he had to at least see who this person was.
Silver bangs parted gently across a pale forehead, her every step casting a ripple of pressure in the air. Those sharp, layered crimson eyes glinted with a light not quite human. The twin swords strapped to her side left no doubt—this black-robed woman was no ordinary priestess.
Maria’s gaze landed on the Root Serpent, and the creature visibly squirmed in terror, lowering itself in submission.
A terrifying presence.
Root Serpents were spawned of the Abyss, and the Abyss was forever brushing against the outer edges of the world. Certain ancient fears were imprinted into the instincts of such creatures—engraved deeper than reason or thought.
Fear, and worship of beings that existed beyond the boundary of reality itself.
“Are you with the military?”
Maria tilted her head slightly. The way the Root Serpent cowered before her gave her pause. Then realization set in: if someone had enough rank, and if they were attuned to the forbidden, they might sense the presence of the Upper Ones and the Chaotic currents intertwined within her.
So this was less about her, and more about what was sleeping inside her.
“A nun, nothing more,” she replied, voice soft as ever.
Maria’s lips curved into a smile, bringing warmth to her pale features. That gentle smile, full of quiet kindness, brought light into the oppressive gloom of the tunnel. As if simply by looking at her, darkness, filth, and evil itself no longer felt so terrifying.
She stood like a white blossom blooming in the midst of decay.
—
While things around Maria remained tense and quiet, on Sister Dolores’ end, chaos was roaring.
With her unnatural perception and fervent drive, the Steel Nun moved through the tunnels like a shark catching the scent of blood. Battle axe in hand, she charged straight into the underground.
And there, she caught a Root Serpent—along with two Abyssbound—completely off guard.
And Dolores, known far and wide as the nemesis of evil, the one-woman army, wasted no time. Her burning axe flared with white-hot brilliance, and every touch of flame scorched away the Abyss' corruption like it was dry tinder.
Every curse, every maddening enchantment thrown her way was ignored completely—burned away by her unwavering flame of faith and a skill called Soulburn Will.
If it hadn’t been for Moll arriving midway, drawn in by the noise, those two Abyssbound and their Root Serpent would’ve been pulverized on the spot.
“Why do you wicked things still struggle? Is it not the warmth of redeeming flame that you truly crave? Come! Let the cleansing fire embrace you, that you may step into the afterworld in purity!”
With a mighty swing, Dolores hurled her ironbound holy text.
It whistled through the air like a meteor, smashing straight through a shield woven of black fire. A chain attached to the book snapped taut midair, and with a powerful yank, she reeled the sacred weapon back like a flail.
Swinging a steel-encased bible at enemies…
“She’s insane!”
One of the black-robed spellcasters, clutching a staff, couldn’t help but curse under his breath as he guided the Root Serpent to retreat. This nun was mentally unhinged. She loathed evil to the bone, yet longed to redeem it. In that contradiction, she had chosen a path of salvation by fire.
The more fanatical she became, the more unstoppable she was.
Dolores looked at the three cultists with something almost like pity. She truly believed she could offer them salvation through the flame.
“Stop her! We’re almost there!”
A sudden flash of black metal—an armored warrior burst from the shadows to one side. His greatsword came crashing down with the force of a collapsing mountain.
Axe met blade, and a hideous screech of metal-on-metal rang out—enough to leave heads spinning and stomachs churning. Upon the first clash, the black-armored brute was sent staggering back multiple steps.
Dolores, on the other hand, didn’t budge an inch.
