FSHUUU!

The transition through the barrier felt like passing through ice water.

It was sudden shock of cold that penetrated even the Church-provided protective equipment, followed by oppressive weight that made breathing require conscious effort.

Rey emerged on the other side and immediately understood why forty percent of participants never returned.

The Great Dungeon of Death was a monument to despair made manifest.

What had once been a thriving city now existed as twisted mockery of civilization.

Buildings stood at impossible angles, their architecture warped by corruption that defied physical law. Streets ran in directions that hurt to observe, creating spatial distortions that made navigation conceptually difficult rather than merely challenging.

The sky—if it could be called that—was perpetual twilight, neither day nor night but sickly gray that suggested reality itself was dying.

No sun, no stars, just oppressive dimness that made shadows deeper than they should be and light sources seem inadequate regardless of their actual brightness.

And everywhere, the plague.

It wasn’t visible in the traditional sense—no green miasma or obvious corruption spreading across surfaces.

Instead, it manifested as wrongness that Rey’s enhanced perception detected immediately.

The air tasted of decay despite appearing clear.

Sounds carried distorted harmonics that made them seem to come from wrong directions.

Even mystical energy felt contaminated, as though the fundamental Ether sustaining reality had been poisoned at conceptual levels.

"Maintain formation," Paladin Commander Seraphine ordered, her voice cutting through the oppressive atmosphere. "Don’t touch anything unnecessarily. Don’t consume anything you find. And report immediately if you feel unusual fatigue, difficulty breathing, or sudden temperature changes—those are early plague symptoms."

The unit of one hundred Searchers moved forward cautiously, their earlier confidence eroded by the sheer weight of corruption pressing against their mystical defenses.

Rey catalogued details with cold precision while maintaining his Eru persona’s appropriate nervousness.

The Paladin was right to emphasize caution—this environment operated under rules that made normal dungeon exploration seem safe by comparison.

They advanced along what had once been a main thoroughfare, now twisted into shape that suggested the street itself was screaming.

Buildings on either side showed signs of habitation frozen mid-destruction—windows shattered outward as though something had burst through from inside, doors hanging at angles that suggested violent forced entry, personal belongings scattered across the ground in patterns suggesting panicked flight.

"Movement ahead," one of the Searchers reported, her detection techniques identifying mystical signatures approaching their position.

The Paladin raised one hand, signaling the unit to halt and prepare for combat.

What emerged from the twisted shadows were nightmares given form.

Hollow Creatures—humanoid shapes that had once been people, now transformed into something that existed between life and death without belonging to either state.

Their bodies were emaciated to the point of skeletal visibility, skin stretched tight over bones that showed through in places where flesh had rotted away completely. But they moved with terrible purpose, their eyes—empty sockets that should have been blind—tracking the Searchers with intelligence that suggested awareness beyond normal undead.

And most disturbing was their silence.

No moans, no groans, no sounds of shuffling movement.

They advanced in complete quiet, creating wrongness that made them more terrifying than if they’d been shrieking.

Rey’s enhanced perception analyzed them immediately while his expression showed appropriate shock rather than recognition.

’Hollow Creatures,’ he realized with cold calculation. ’Similar to what Hollow Technique produces in Chaos Art—entities that exist in a state of anti-life, neither truly living nor properly dead but suspended in wrongness that reality itself rejects.’

The implications were staggering.

If the plague produced effects similar to Hollow Technique, then the Emperor of Death might possess capabilities related to Chaos Art in ways the Church hadn’t fully understood.

’Could it be connected to Ater?’ Rey wondered briefly. ’Or to Lucifer’s arrangements? A Chaos-based entity positioned in Aether territory a thousand years ago, creating corruption that defies normal understanding?’

But speculation would have to wait. The Hollow Creatures were attacking.

"Defensive formation!" Seraphine commanded. "Ranged attackers, target their cores! Close combat specialists, maintain perimeter!"

The unit responded with practiced coordination despite obvious fear. Gold-rank Searchers weren’t helpless against threats like this—they just needed proper leadership and tactical discipline.

"Spirit Art, Tempest Technique, Sequence #6: Lightning Cascade!"

"Null Art, Erasure Technique, Sequence #7: Void Strike!"

"Curse Art, Decay Technique, Sequence #6: Withering Touch!"

"Soul Art, Dominion Technique, Sequence #7: Consciousness Disruption!"

Four different Arts launched simultaneously from different Searchers, each one demonstrating their respective affinities and training.

The lightning struck first, electricity arcing toward the nearest Hollow Creature’s torso where mystical analysis suggested its core resided. The entity convulsed as energy disrupted its anti-life coherence, but it didn’t fall—merely staggered before continuing its advance with single-minded determination.

The Void Strike followed, erasure energy attempting to delete the creature from reality.

It succeeded partially—the Hollow Creature’s left arm simply ceased existing, removed at conceptual level. But the entity adapted, its remaining limbs compensating for the loss without apparent concern.

Withering Touch accelerated decay processes, attempting to make the creature rot away into nothing. But beings that already existed in a state of anti-life proved resistant to further degradation—the technique slowed it marginally without achieving decisive effect.

Consciousness Disruption targeted the entity’s awareness, attempting to sever whatever intelligence allowed it to function. This proved most effective—the Hollow Creature stumbled, its coordinated movement becoming erratic as Soul Art interfered with the wrongness sustaining it.

Rey observed these results while calculating optimal contributions that would appear helpful without revealing his true capabilities.

He couldn’t use Chaos Art here—that would immediately raise questions about how a supposedly Spirit-blessed Nephilim possessed developed Chaos capabilities. Soul Art and Null Art were similarly restricted since he’d never claimed proficiency in those Arts during his examination and he frankly didn’t have the Affinity.

Which left Spirit Art—his supposed primary affinity and the Art he could demonstrate without compromising his cover.

"Spirit Art, Inferno Technique, Sequence #6: Flame Lance!"

Fire erupted from Rey’s palm with practiced precision, the concentrated heat targeting the Hollow Creature that Consciousness Disruption had destabilized. The flames struck its core directly, and the combination of Soul Art interference plus high-temperature assault finally achieved a decisive result.

The Hollow Creature collapsed, its anti-life coherence failing completely.

Its body dispersed into ambient corruption rather than leaving physical remains—visual confirmation that these entities operated under different rules than normal undead.

"Good coordination!" Seraphine called out, already engaging another Hollow Creature with techniques operating at levels that demonstrated why she held Paladin rank. "Maintain pressure! Don’t let them close to melee range!"

More Hollow Creatures emerged from twisted shadows—not just five or ten, but dozens.

The plague had transformed the entire population, and each former resident potentially represented another entity awaiting reanimation.

The battle intensified as the unit fought desperately to maintain defensive formation against overwhelming numbers.

Rey contributed appropriately—Mid-Sequence Spirit Art techniques executed with competence that helped but didn’t dominate the engagement.

He targeted enemies that teammates had already wounded, providing finishing strikes that appeared helpful without revealing he could have eliminated them independently.

’Managing perception is as important as actual combat effectiveness,’ he calculated coldly while his Flame Lance incinerated another destabilized Hollow Creature. ’I need to appear skilled enough to warrant Church attention but not so exceptional that questions arise about my background.’