Falsely Accused, I Started Plundering Monster Traits

The old knight suddenly reached in from the side and clamped a hand over the barrel. Lin Yan glanced at him.

"What?"

The old knight didn’t answer. He was already staring past the muzzle, his attention locked on a face embedded in the left side of the flesh mound.

It belonged to a middle-aged man. Half his jaw had already sunk into the raw red flesh around it, and only a short length of his neck remained exposed, but the old scar at his temple was still unmistakable.

The old knight’s hand tightened slowly around the barrel.

"...Edwin."

Lin Yan followed his gaze. The flesh mound writhed forward, and several flailing arms quickly covered the face. At the same time, another face was squeezed up from above as the layers of flesh shifted against one another.

The old knight’s breathing hitched.

"Father Morris..."

The knights beside him began recognizing them too, their eyes moving across the flesh mound. Before long, someone picked out a third face among the overlapping features, then a fourth.

From the knights’ reactions alone, Lin Yan could tell that the faces belonged to people from the Church, and quite a few were people the old knight knew.

The flesh mound kept crawling forward, faces appearing and disappearing as the flesh shifted around them. Dozens of hands gripped the walls and floor, dragging the enormous, still-bleeding body toward them inch by inch.

Lin Yan lowered his eyes to the old knight’s hand, still pressed against the barrel.

"Done?"

The old knight opened his mouth.

"BANG—!"

The sudden crash cut him off.

Everyone turned at once. The door they had come through was already shut.

A hand wrapped in layers of yellowed bandages held the key and gave it a light twist. A crisp click came from the lock.

The hand pulled the key free. Their eyes followed the gaunt arm upward to a figure in a dark gray hooded robe. Layer after layer of yellowed bandages wrapped him from his hands and wrists all the way up to his neck. Even his entire face beneath the hood was covered, leaving only a narrow slit for his eyes.

He raised the key in full view of everyone, slipped it between the bandages covering his mouth, and tilted his head back slightly.

His throat bobbed.

The key disappeared down his throat.

Only then did they notice another figure standing behind him, almost completely hidden by his body. The second man wore the same dark gray hooded robe, with every exposed part of him wrapped in layers of yellowed bandages. His gaunt frame nearly disappeared beneath the loose cloth, making him look almost frail.

The second figure slowly stepped out from behind him and stopped at his side.

He held a long, slender curved blade in each hand. Both blades measured well over half a man’s height, their narrow lengths sweeping downward in cold arcs. With his arms hanging naturally at his sides, the sharp tips hovered barely an inch above the stone floor.

Near the hilts, each blade bore a pair of interlocking crescents.

The man who had swallowed the key carried a quiver on his back and held a dark recurve bow in one hand. At the center of the bow was the same mark—two crescents locked together.

The moment the old knight saw the Twin Moon marks on the blades and bow, his expression changed.

And he wasn’t the only one.

The knights beside him froze at almost the same instant. Their weapons, still pointed toward the flesh mound ahead, began inching toward the doorway, their movements stiff and painfully slow, like ordinary men standing before a wild beast, afraid that even the slightest movement might make it spring. One knight even took half a step back without realizing it, the hand around his sword hilt already trembling.

The two figures by the door showed no reaction.

The man with the blades merely shifted one wrist.

Several knights instantly tensed as though they had been jabbed with a needle. One of them even held his breath, his sword hand trembling harder.

"...Nadir. Sahir."

The old knight couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice.

Lin Yan looked back at him. "Who the hell are these two? Look at the state of you guys."

"The Twin Moon Brothers." The old knight paused. "Assassins from over a century ago. Everyone in the Order would recognize them."

Lin Yan raised an eyebrow and glanced at the two absurdly oversized curved blades. He couldn’t help himself.

"No, seriously. What kind of assassin carries blades that big?"

"Do you people have a different definition of ’assassin’ or something?"

No one answered him.

The knights’ attention remained fixed on the doorway. Even the old knight didn’t respond.

Lin Yan couldn’t be bothered asking again. The scraping behind him was getting louder, and the flesh mound had already crawled to within ten meters. Its massive body of layered corpses squeezed slowly through the passage while dozens of hands dragged it forward along both walls, nails and knuckles grinding over stone until the grating noise became almost continuous.

He braced the M2 against his shoulder again, then seemed to remember something. Glancing toward the Saintess, he briefly lifted one hand from the gun and made an exaggerated gesture of covering his ear.

She blinked, then immediately caught on and clamped both hands tightly over her ears. The knights beside her were still completely focused on the doorway. None of them noticed.

"Those two are yours."

The next instant, he pulled the trigger.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG—!!

Muzzle flashes flared through the underground passage. The deafening gunshots crashed back and forth between the narrow stone walls. Even with both hands already pressed over her ears, the Saintess’s shoulders still jerked up at the first burst. Several of the knights visibly rocked on their feet, and beneath their helmets, every other sound vanished beneath a piercing ring.

The foremost arms reaching toward him exploded apart, followed by huge chunks of flesh tearing free from the front of the mound. Heavy rounds ripped through layer after layer of fused corpses, bursting through chests, shoulders, and skulls as dark blood and shredded meat splattered across both stone walls.

The thing let out a deafening roar as dozens of hands clawed forward at once.

Lin Yan held the M2 steady and swept the barrel from left to right.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG—!!

The front of the flesh mound looked as though a massive iron plow had torn straight through it. Layer after layer of fused bodies was shredded apart, leaving a massive chunk missing from its bloated body. It still dragged itself forward on the arms that remained, but it had barely inched forward again before another burst slammed into it head-on.

At the same time, a sharp twang of a bowstring came from behind Lin Yan.

Thrum—

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