The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 280: The Contamination (1) The Monsters

"Focus on their weak spots—chest, joints, and head. Aim to disrupt their movements first. Don’t let them swarm."

Rodion added with clinical precision.

"Of course, there’s more," Mikhailis muttered under his breath. "We’ll deal with it. Anything else I need to know, Rodion?"

Mikhailis straightened, his gaze hardening as the creatures crept closer. "All right, team. Let’s take them down and keep it clean. No heroics—just precision."

Cerys didn’t need further encouragement. With a sharp exhale, she lunged forward, her blade slicing cleanly through the knee joint of the nearest creature. The monster let out a guttural shriek, collapsing onto the ground with a heavy thud, writhing as its grotesque form tried to pull itself upright. Her movements were sharp and precise, an extension of her years of relentless training, each step measured to perfection.

Beside her, Vyrelda was a force of nature. She swung her massive sword with an elegance that belied its size, the blade singing through the air before cleaving a second creature in two. Her strikes were not just powerful—they were calculated. Each swing exploited a weakness, slicing through bloated joints and exposed flesh with surgical precision.

"Stay back," she barked at Estella and Rhea, her tone a mix of command and assurance. "This isn’t the time for amateurs."

Rhea’s eyes widened as she watched Vyrelda’s sheer ferocity.

"She’s incredible," Rhea whispered to Estella, who nodded, her hands tightening around the glowing ward she held.

"It’s like she’s cutting through butter."

Cerys sidestepped another lunging creature, her blade flashing as she drove it through its exposed chest. She kicked it back with a grunt, sending it sprawling.

"Focus, Rhea," Cerys called out, her tone calm but edged with urgency.

"Admire her later."

Vyrelda gave a short laugh, her blade spinning in a flourish before crashing down on another creature, splitting it from shoulder to waist. The mist swirled with each movement, giving her the appearance of a ghostly avenger.

"Monstrous as ever," Mikhailis murmured under his breath, his sharp eyes following her every move. His mind flickered back to the night Vyrelda, drunk and headstrong, had chased him and Cerys through the corridors—a far cry from the composed, lethal warrior before him now.

The two women worked in perfect tandem. Cerys’s strikes were fast and precise, targeting the creatures’ weak points, while Vyrelda delivered devastating blows that crushed any resistance.

"Keep them busy," Cerys called, her emerald eyes flickering toward the firelight. "Your Highness, what’s next?"

The creatures retaliated with frenzied attacks, their movements erratic but powerful. One lunged toward Estella, its claws glinting in the firelight. Before it could reach her, Lira stepped in, her movements elegant and controlled. She parried its strike with a flick of her dagger, driving it back with a calculated counter.

"You’re welcome," Lira said dryly, her voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

Estella huffed, adjusting the glowing ward in her hands.

"Just keep them off me. These wards don’t set themselves up, you know."

"What do you mean?" Lira asked, her voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Mikhailis straightened, brushing the dirt from his hands.

"Just a hunch."

The group began setting up camp again, their movements efficient despite their exhaustion. The royal tent was erected quickly, its interior spacious and comfortable. A larger-than-usual campfire crackled in the center of their makeshift perimeter, casting a warm glow that pushed back the lingering shadows.

Mikhailis sat near the fire, his posture relaxed but his mind racing. Rodion’s voice hummed softly in his ear, providing continuous updates on the analysis.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the flames.

If this corruption spreads, it’ll destroy more than just villages. We need to stop it before it gets worse.

The others gathered around the fire, their expressions a mix of relief and unease. Cerys’s sword rested across her lap as she sharpened it with deliberate strokes, her eyes distant. Rhea leaned against a broken wall, her calm demeanor unshaken. Estella adjusted her shawl, her fingers brushing against the faintly glowing ward beside her.

"So," Estella began, breaking the silence, "what’s the plan?"

Mikhailis leaned back, propping himself up with his hands.

"We keep moving. The mist isn’t just a coincidence—it’s deliberate. And whoever’s behind it isn’t going to stop here."

Vyrelda frowned, her gaze sharp.

"You think someone’s controlling the corruption?"

"Or causing it," Mikhailis replied.

"Either way, it’s a problem we can’t ignore."

Cerys paused her sharpening, her emerald eyes meeting his.

"And how do you plan to find them?"

Mikhailis smirked, the firelight reflecting in his glasses.

"Oh, I have my ways."

As the group settled in for the night, the atmosphere remained tense. The crackling of the fire provided a faint comfort, but the weight of the unknown hung heavily over them. Mikhailis’s mind churned with possibilities, his sharp gaze fixed on the mist beyond their camp.

Rodion’s voice broke the silence, calm and steady.

Mikhailis’s lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained hard. "This isn’t just a monster problem," he muttered, his voice low but resolute.

"It’s a war waiting to happen."