Deep Sea Embers chapter 722

Chapter 722: The Second Brutal Beating

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

In the eerie and desolate landscape under a star-filled sky, a massive demon, adorned with twelve symmetrical appendages and a distinctly human face, finally began to retreat. Its towering form twisted and contorted as it merged into the distant, chaotic abyss. In the wake of its departure, only the remnants of destruction remained: pitch-black skeletons disintegrating and ascending skyward, surrounded by numerous indigenous creatures, their bodies scarred, as they exerted great effort to recover their strength.

In the midst of this desolation, several dark hounds, their bodies composed of incomplete bone fragments, struggled to extricate themselves from the heap of bones. Death crows, their presence ominous, circled above the lifeless remains, scavenging for sustenance to regain their vitality. Nearby, a gigantic skull, adorned with menacing spikes, settled onto the ground, its dark red, hollow eye sockets observing the demons scattered across the plains.

With the departure of the powerful demon, a fragile and volatile equilibrium emerged among the remaining shadow demons. However, this short-lived balance was on the brink of collapse.

As the overwhelming fear that united them dissipated, their innate tendencies towards conflict and destruction resurfaced. In this abyssal deep sea, a world of ceaseless strife and devouring, this was an unchanging truth, particularly in a land rich with “food,” where each demon was in desperate need to heal rapidly.

Scavenging through the bones, the dark hounds were the first to express their aggression, growling at the death crows circling overhead. Then, emerging from the shadows, nightmare jellyfish extended their perilous tentacles towards the nearby fear demons. The black skull, too, began to stir, slowly lifting from the ground, its jaw opening to reveal a hidden, menacing energy…

Despite recently suffering under the might of a powerful and enigmatic “alien demon,” these shadow demons couldn’t escape their inherent nature, plunging back into a cycle of mutual slaughter.

However, just as the chaotic battle was on the verge of erupting, a sudden, unexpected sound from nearby halted their actions.

The black skull, highly attuned to its surroundings, sensed the new arrival and swiftly turned towards the source of the noise.

A colossal shadow staggered across the plains, seemingly materializing out of thin air. Its form was swelling and undulating, constantly changing shape in a manner that recalled the “newborn demons” that had emerged from the limbs of the Nether Lord. These beings typically displayed such chaotic, formless appearances until they consumed and merged enough to solidify into a distinct demonic “species.”

Yet, this uninvited visitor on the wasteland was clearly not one of these “newborn demons.” As a formless “demonic essence,” it exuded an aura that was not just dangerous, but eerily bizarre.

This sense of impending threat caused all the shadow demons to instinctively cease their fighting and turn their attention to the swelling, undulating shadow.

Gradually, from within this shadow, an entity emerged: a dark hound composed of countless floating, shattered bones, its size nearly double that of its counterparts.

Dog felt as if he had been lost in a long, elaborate dream, hazy and distant to the point he couldn’t grasp. Yet, he vividly recalled a journey to a far-off land, encounters with various people, and the warmth of friendships. He remembered living among a community of fragile but organized beings, slowly grasping the intricate “rules of survival” over an extended period.

There was a particularly frail creature, always by his side, a constant companion in his journey.

…But where was that small creature now?

Lifting his head with effort, Dog found his vision blurred as if a dense, opaque veil obscured his sight, distorting and layering his surroundings. This place… it seemed somewhat familiar, yet it had been ages since he last set foot here.

He didn’t favor this place. His preference lay in dwelling somewhere drenched in sunlight alongside that “small creature.”

Through the thick fog and veil, a multitude of unclear shadows circled around him, growls and murmurs emanating from every corner, carrying an air of threat and malice.

Dog strained to discern the growling shadows, but his vision remained unclear. Yet, amidst this blur, a profound sensation began to emerge within him.

Hunger.

An overwhelming, gnawing hunger, as if he had been starved for a century, only to find himself suddenly amidst an abundance of food.

This intense hunger sparked fragments of his long “dream” back into his consciousness.

Memories flooded back: the small creature by his side during the long, chilly winter nights, both huddled under blankets in the cold; sharing steaming soup kindly offered by neighbors, of which he would only take a small bite; learning the ways of survival in the expansive city-state, understanding the kindness and cruelty in people’s hearts, distinguishing between the useful and the dangerous in the trash bins they rummaged through; their days of begging, trickery, the smog from factories and chimneys, instances of theft, the pain of being beaten, the relief of soup kitchens, the satisfaction of a hard day’s work and a full meal, the moments of shared tears and laughter, the experience of living together…

The hostile roars and growls grew more intense in the dim, layered curtain of his blurred vision. Suddenly, a swift shadow lunged from one direction, launching an aggressive attack on him, causing a sharp pang of pain.

Amidst the swelling, undulating shadows, Dog’s skeletal head slowly looked down. In the hollow depths of his eye sockets, a faint green light flickered with curiosity at the… thing biting him.

It was a dark hound, seemingly one of his own kind.

Dog’s form began to solidify in the shadows and mist, bizarre bone fragments extending from his joints, reconstructing his appearance as a dark hound. He watched the “kin” gnawing at his body and, after a few seconds of awkward silence, inquired, “Have you seen a human? She is my friend.”

The dark hound attacking Dog paused and ceased its assault, not out of understanding his question—it lacked the capacity for such comprehension.

Instead, it sensed a profound danger emanating from Dog, particularly from the green fire flickering in his eye sockets, harboring an aura that was both deeply familiar and terrifyingly dangerous.

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

The dark hound’s reaction came too late. The moment it loosened its bite, Dog underwent a stunning transformation. His bones disintegrated and exploded in a sudden burst, scattering a whirlwind of countless black bones. These bones swirled around the assailant in a frenzied dance, only to reassemble into Dog’s form around the attacker’s body in an instant, as if time itself had been manipulated!

“Mouth, inefficient for feeding; overall devouring, more efficient.”

The impetuous attacker was no more, vanishing without a trace, leaving behind only the imposing figure of Dog. The pitch-black bones that formed his torso contracted and twisted violently, producing a cacophony of squeaks and grinds. This was accompanied by the desperate struggles and muffled roars of the “food,” but these signs of resistance quickly faded away. Within moments, there was nothing left but the eerie sound of bones grinding against each other.

Dog felt the gnawing sensation of hunger begin to wane.

Lifting his head, he sensed a resurgence of strength flowing through him.

“Demon… tastes good…”

His feast was underway.

Amidst the roars and murmurs of the countless demons, Dog’s form disintegrated again into numerous black bone fragments, swirling like a chaotic hurricane across the wasteland. These bones sliced through everything in their path—living demons, the dust, and mud kicked up from demon remains on the ground, even the stones and the fossil-like “thorn bushes.” Everything was engulfed by this bone hurricane, reduced to mere “food.”

The shadow demons, desperate not to be consumed, mounted futile counterattacks. Their fierce resistance only served to nourish Dog further. Meanwhile, the more cunning demons, recognizing the peril, scrambled towards the edges of the wasteland, seeking refuge from the ravenous storm. Enduring injuries and losing limbs, only about a dozen managed to reach a relatively safer area aftering being battered and bruised.

The hurricane raged for an indeterminate time before gradually subsiding over the wasteland. Emerging from the storm was a colossal figure, ablaze with faint green flames and rising black smoke – Dog, now reformed.

The intense hunger that had driven him was finally easing.

Dog raised his head, his eyes drawn towards a particular direction deep within the wasteland. There, he faintly sensed a presence, one that felt familiar and comforting. It seemed to be the “small creature” with whom he had shared a significant part of his life.

After a few moments of slow, ponderous thought, Dog’s attention was drawn to a relatively large piece of demon remains scattered across the chaotic landscape. He lowered his head to pick up the remains, muttering vaguely in his throat: “Shirley… I found something to eat…”

With large, purposeful strides, he began his journey deeper into the wasteland.

Around him, amidst the wreckage and remains, the surviving demons shakily rose to their feet, some gazing blankly into the distance. They had endured through two horrific feasts, narrowly escaping the fate of becoming food, or at least not being completely devoured.

The faint green light that had illuminated the feast still lingered in the confused minds of these demons, imprinting a deep seated fear. It was a fear that seemed to override their chaotic instincts, a primal terror embedded in the very logic that governed almost all shadow demons.

The massive skull demon, its form adorned with spikes and shrouded in pitch-black darkness, hovered unsteadily in the air. Despite losing nearly a third of its body in the recent devastating storm, it managed to cling to survival. This creature, exhibiting a level of intelligence slightly above that of its demonic peers, hovered for a moment, emitting a low, muffled mutter before it began to drift slowly into the distance.

However, its flight was abruptly halted.

The skull demon seemed to detect something unusual, its head swinging sharply to gaze up at the “dome” that blanketed the stagnant, starry sky above.

From the heavens, a faint green flame descended like a meteor, plunging straight towards the wasteland below!

In the face of this sudden and overwhelming vision, a hazy and disordered “thought” surfaced in the skull demon’s dull mind—Ah, the third brutal onslaught is imminent…

 

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5 thoughts on “Deep Sea Embers chapter 722

  1. This chapter was such a gut punch, considering Dog and Shirley’s story up to this point has been about them surviving poverty and loneliness together. First bound by circumstance and now… “Shirley, I found something to eat…” feels like a phrase he repeated so often.
    Anyway I’m not crying, you are crying

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