What did it look to everyone else—the vines that sprang upward, or the path that the sorcerers had set up before?

Frick gradually began to care less about the state of the fleshy tentacles that made up his upward path to the eyes of ordinary people, because the images of the canines in his consciousness were somehow "just right" to not touch the part of them that stayed in reality. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

If when he looked up at the tentacles that spread upwards below, he was unable to see them clearly due to the boundaries of interlaced light and consciousness, then when he began to crawl upwards in the direction of the tentacles, he could not get a glimpse of the truth hidden in a patch of red, even from close distance.

It was not only visual that could make it clear to him that the tentacles were there, but now that he knew that his five senses were all anomalous under the influence of "ability", Frick was not sure if he could still believe them - maybe everything that happened was a dream after falling into madness.

Not only that, but he could even feel the "granules" extending from his hands slowly wriggling, and they seemed to have some connection to what Frick thought were "phantoms". Whenever he tried to get close to the tentacles, the tiny squirming tentacles slowly extended in the direction of the flesh, as if intending to blend into the flesh in the same way as it had done in the first place.

"We can't let this go on any longer...... This rate of erosion is obviously abnormal, and it must have been something that those guys did to me. He muttered quietly.

If there was a way back to normalcy and a mirror in front of him, he would try to get a glimpse of it, no matter how dangerous his surroundings were. Perhaps it was a stupid idea, or even an impulse that had nothing to do with reason, but he didn't want to even know what he had become.

But if he wants to change the situation, he can't choose to escape these things that he can't control, even if the slightly wriggling "flesh buds" are longing for the rancid flesh in front of him, he can only obey their incomprehensible desire and put his hand on the tentacles that spread up in front of him.

In an instant, he could clearly see the flesh buds extending from his hands sticking out like worms longing for flesh, and suddenly pierced into the dark red flesh. Not only that, but they clearly resonated with the piece of flesh in front of him, and he could feel his magic become one with some kind of massive structure.

But the strange bond lasted only a few seconds, as the "worms" that had pierced into the tentacles quickly retracted into his hands, and even brought out a few drops of viscous blood from the gap. They move so quickly that Frick almost misses them.

For some reason, while Frick was able to control them to a certain extent, he could barely understand how these "grants" worked. He found that they seemed to have an independent will to move freely, but that nature seemed to be some kind of parasite hidden on the spiritual plane.

What is incomprehensible to him is that these seemingly parasitic flesh buds seem to have some kind of inseparable connection with his own soul, which makes one wonder what kind of soul resides in the depths of the human body, and what terrifying truth is hidden beneath its calm surface?

The study of souls in various countries is still limited to the superficial spiritual realm, but these mages can already dive into the depths as they wish. Even William Coulter, who was once considered by many to be the first man in his field, has only achieved his current success through the power of this organization.

When you think about it, it seems that everything can be connected: William Coulter's achievements and the alchemical potions he created were all influenced by this organization, so of course they had the same ...... Or even more advanced technology. Considering that those people had known about Frick's existence for a long time, it was likely that his abilities were known to them - at least partially.

In that case, he was interested in the extent to which the organization had learned about his abilities, and wanted to learn from their knowledge the cause of his physical changes. Of course, they certainly wouldn't reveal their knowledge as treasured so easily, and if they really had the chance, Frick certainly wouldn't mind using "slightly" somewhat forceful means to get information.

This may be somewhat unethical, but the laws of the Empire prohibit illegal magical experiments on citizens. Therefore, if everything you do is considered to be forcibly taking back from the hands of those sorcerers as payment for human experimentation, then even a little roughness is enough to justify the behavior.

"Justice should not only be done, but it should be done in a way that is visible. He silently recited the famous words recorded in a book of legal texts, "Even from the point of view of legal procedure, this can be regarded as a righteous act...... Because it is not going to protect the rights of you criminals in the first place. ”

He tentatively placed his hand on a tentacle not far away, and the simmering flesh buds on his hand grew from his fingertips in the blink of an eye, slowly seeping into the warm fleshy structure and spreading deeper. As it appeared on the surface, his hands were connected to the tentacles through the parasite-like organs, and the thick pieces of flesh even transmitted a life-like rhythm through him.

While this feeling of being connected to an individual from the outside world is strange, Frick finds himself able to form an exchange of information through the subtle connections that exist between them. The pulsating tentacles charged the magic in exchange, and then sent the information directly to him in return—which tentacles connected to that corner, and how to act best to reach their destination—these messages filled his brain in the blink of an eye.

As if by magic, Frick felt as if his body was moving under the influence of some force, and then he realized that he was climbing in the direction of the tentacles towards the pitch black of the prison. As if he knew exactly what was going on, he climbed up with his hands and feet, and in a few moments he had climbed several layers of tentacles to the heights, and he could already see the darkness above.

At the top, as he had thought, there was a large cage that looked like an elevator, and that was the tool that the sorcerers used to get in and out of the cell or carry their utensils. At some distance from the cage, there is a platform facing the side opening.

-- It seems to be the entrance to the cell.

He couldn't help but speed up his movements, enduring the sticky touch in his hands, and climbed all the way to the upper level of the cell, the foul liquid flowing from his tentacles almost staining his clothes red and white. The surrounding space was filled with a disgusting stench of corruption, almost like a slaughterhouse enclosed in a summer day.

After drinking the blood-like liquid, the cloth wrapped around his body became unbelievably heavy, and his soaked body became difficult to move, but Flick did not dare to take it lightly. Regardless of whether those tentacles exist in reality or not, he is now at a height of tens of meters above the ground and wants to climb higher, and if he misses and falls to the ground, he will undoubtedly be shattered.

However, climbing up with the help of these "pieces of meat" is an extremely exhausting move after all, not to mention that Flick himself is not a good person to move. After only climbing about ten meters, he was already slightly wheezing from exhaustion, but there was still at least twice the distance above.

So when he finally reached a certain height, he chose to temporarily stop his movements on a slightly wider tentacle to rest for a while. Perhaps his physical strength might barely be enough to support him to climb to the top, but the door to the prison entrance and exit was definitely not so easy to open. If they were sure that they could lock Frick in this chamber, they would definitely set up a line of defense that would be difficult to break through on the top floor.

He could only bet now that he wasn't so valuable to the sorcerers that he didn't need to imprison him as if he were the worst prisoner of prisoners—after all, the terrifying "walls" were enough to prevent most people from escaping from the prison.

Although as soon as you think about what happened when you were captured, it is clear that the original target of the mages was not him, but Lizzie Leernst. And the reason why they didn't immediately dispose of the wrong person after discovering that they had caught him was that they knew that in the eyes of those magicians, there was still something he could use.

They are just as stingy as Uls Leinster, so whether the group is going to use Frick as bait or in experiments with spells, he can play his role as a captive. And if they were to watch the boiled ducks fly like this now, they would never give up.

"But isn't that just right?"

He didn't know how big the facility was, after all, the cell where he was imprisoned alone was of this size, and the organization even dug up an underground labyrinth or something like that in some deserted place. He admits that his ideas were somewhat influenced by popular fiction, but it was probably the only way that they could have gone unnoticed by anyone for so long.

Let him wander aimlessly through such a huge facility, most likely getting lost in the intricate roads before he even notices where the enemy is, and finally wasting precious time. On the other hand, if he could catch one of those sorcerers as a guide, it would be much easier to move.

So now he even had some hope that they would soon find out about his attempts to escape from prison.