It's hard to have a warrior fearless when it comes to actually confronting one of these twisted trolls, and Kraft certainly isn't that kind of person.

It moves in an incongruous state between crawling and wriggling, each brachiopod bursting with considerable force, but uncoordinated with each other, exerting only force, regardless of the general balance. It's like throwing yourself forward, trading your imbalance for speed that doesn't match your shape.

Teeth and horns scrape the floor, plowing with an irritating screech, ratchet-like rolling on the eardrum, and the sensation of a large meat grinder's reamer spinning, with a tremendous sense of oppression.

Affected by the hissing sound, Kraft barely made a dodge gesture and dodged to the side.

This movement was apparently detected by it, and it slapped its wrists and feet across the ground, attempting to change direction in the middle of the process. However, these limbs were too strong and not coordinated, and only turned the high-speed torso at a small angle, and staggered with Kraft.

A half-formed wrist and foot stretched out the mouthparts appendage, biting ferociously, bypassing the blade of the cross, tearing away the cuff with a cufflink at the moment of contact, and unwillingly chewing and tearing the fabric. The metal buckle was repeatedly ground and deformed between the teeth, and it was impossible to distinguish whether it was the teeth or the rattling sound of the clasp breaking.

If you get closer, it might be a few fingers or even half a palm.

There was a faint pain on the ulnar side of the wrist, as if there was warm fluid oozing, but it didn't interfere with the movement, and I just hoped that it wasn't a superficial blood vessel.

He noticed that his hands were trembling slightly, and his sword was heavy. Is it the fear of death passing by, or the irrepressible exhaustion?

The hiss erupted again, and the creepy creature that crashed into the wall shook its massive sarcoma body, wiggling its wrists and feet to turn. Although there is no morphological room for exertion on the surface, it does seem to have a "positive" in self-perception, and it needs to be aimed at the target in this direction.

Normally, Kraft could have spent the night wrestling with such stupid brute force, but now he could clearly feel his condition deteriorating. The physical strength was consumed in the violent physiological reactions, and the body and spirit were tormented by the roar, and the last time I felt this was the one-meter physical test of the soul of the other world in the university.

He gasped for breath, pouring into his lungs the air that had soaked up moisture and the smell of burnt protein, and the smell of gagging protein. The physical strength has reached a very dangerous tipping point, all sensations are far away, the edges of the vision are blackened, and only the terrifying sound echoes in the ears.

Mentally and volitional are also on the verge of limit, relying only on the last bit of numbing reason to maintain the confrontation, at least until he completely loses control of his body, he should not fall.

The thing pounced, and as it finished accelerating, Kraft took the opportunity to dodge it again, allowing the mass of rotten polymer to come into close contact with the wall for a second time, and the brazier stand in the middle was shattered and scattered into pieces of wood.

Sporadic flames still burned on it, and the burned epidermis of the brachiopods was charred and cracked, shattered by the vigorous movement, revealing the yellowish-white dry crust underneath, and the network of dendritic vasculature that crawled on it.

It seems that the pain of the severed limb and the burning on the surface are far from fatal injuries to it, and it may not even be a serious injury, and it will only be itself that will be dragged to death if it continues.

Consciousness searched the memory of the unused arrangements in the room, most of which were not physically capable of exerting their current strength.

But you don't have to do it yourself.

The pattern of action of this thing does fit at least half of Kraft's guesses. Brachiopods are designed to be quite effective, but not enough to support the huge size of the body to sustain high-frequency movement, and can only make bursts of speed.

Moreover, there is a lack of integrity in the movement of all brachiopods, and the center lacks complete control over them, so that the change of direction is quite inflexible as the speed increases.

The remaining flames on its body gave consciousness a little inspiration, and it took advantage of the moment to turn around and move towards the bed.

Heavy, viscous, soft and sharp, the hard bones supported the soft body, and the contradictory body didn't care about his intentions, just as he had rushed to the door before.

A little courage is a necessity to resist the fear-driven blind evasion. Let it get closer, closer, until you can see the scarred wrists and feet, the fangs lining the mouthparts, the molars lurking in the shadows, and the glowing fragments between the teeth.

Countless mouthparts stirred, opened and closed, hoping that the prey, which would no longer run away, would fall into it, chop and grind, digest it all, and become a part of it.

According to its previous performance, it will have to wait a little longer, until its huge body occupies most of its field of vision, and it is a foregone conclusion that it will run over this position.

Then, in the direction of the widest space, dodge with all your might, and let the large number of fish oil cans lined up next to the bed behind you. At this point, he completely exhausted the last of his strength, and sat down on the ground, his hands propped up to the corner, trying to distance himself.

With a continuous crisp cracking sound, the thick liquid splashed and flowed, ignited by the small flames on its body, and the extinguished embers swelled violently, and a large cloud of dazzling red bloomed, engulfing the body and most of its brachial feet.

The heat was so thick that it seemed to have acquired a physical body swelled in the room, and the flames flowed with grease on the floor, and the heat was higher than ever.

The twisted soft body struggled and rolled in the raging fire, its wrists and feet twitching and curling, smearing in more fish oil as it knocked over the other jars, bathing in the expanding pool of fire, letting out a final hoarse roar, the heat sending a brittle and cracked aftertaste.

Then, the extremely hot gas and flowing oil burrowed into any cavity that dared to open open, baking stupid and fragile tissues that dared to challenge its ephemeral and brilliant authority, with verdicts ranging from five to very familiar.

Burning, intense and brutal burning, the most intuitive manifestation of energy is like a giant claw closing together, ravaging and destroying this delicate, malevolent biological masterpiece of organic matter, calcium salt, and water from the outside in.

The water is evaporated before it has time to seep out, and the epidermis curls and shrinks, and it turns black and falls off. Muscles contracture, joints flex, wrists and feet twist into zigzag contractures, branches turn into charred black and indistinguishable mass after a brief struggle, entangled and continue to burn.

The pupilless eyeballs are like punctured blisters flowing out of the denatured contents, the already inconspicuous elongated facial features are baked and melted, the sizzling oil and water are mixed and foamed, and the pungent smoke and the strange smell of fat frying oil fill every inch of the air.

When I thought that it was human tissue that was burning, the breath that churned in the gastrointestinal tract added another layer of extreme mental disgust.

After a futile struggle declared a failure, unintended changes took place in it. Kraft watched as it peeled off layer by layer, severing from the outermost brachiopod and falling off knots by section.

At first, I thought that the dried part could not bear its own weight and collapsed, but then I noticed that there were reddish-gray muscles and bones in the inner layer, and the aponeurosis withered and decayed, and it was discarded before it could be burned.

A force that supports this impossibly physical body is withdrawn from the impeccable "peripherals" along with the water, the locomotor system is abandoned, and the excess vegetation shrinks and shriveles.

The flames devoured the devitalized tissue faster, and the spreading fire followed its contraction and approached the core.

It stands to reason that if it were a pure recombination of human body structures, it would have lost all vitality a long time ago. But after leaving behind the brachiopods and clumpy outer layer, there are still things moving inside.

Burning, falling off.

There's a core struggling to adjust the balance, instinctively throwing away the irreparable in order to survive from the fire.

From this point of view, it is less like a part of the whole, more like an individual that can exist independently, in which the logic is analogous to the brain that thinks that it only temporarily dwells in a place of nourishment and shelter, and sees the body as something else rather than the self.

However, this response is not destined to be effective, the flame continues to burn, and being in the center cannot be avoided in any way, and more and more gray organizations are collapsing and turning into new fuel, showing the core of abandoning them.

The cloudy, viscous flowing glow, like the heart agitating and relaxing, is not brighter than the epidermal photonodules, but accentuates a thick, viscous, high-density dirty white, fungal infected pus-like hue.

In the depths, it squirmed, the flames shrank inward with each rise, the space for movement continued to decrease, and the viscous and disgusting sensation became thicker and thicker.

Even though the appearance of this creeping creature singing with vocal cords is beyond the limits of human tolerance, the viscous core is still an incompatible, self-conscious lesion in the wreckage, lacking a connection to the rest of the body, and is not a component of the human body's structure.

Needless to say, Kraft stood up with his sword in hand, and after a moment of rest without the noise of hissing, he was now able to stand up and get his torch.

Ignite it at the edge of the fire pool, and throw it into the struggling core with a little aim, adding fire to it.

The shrunken and hard tissue became the last incineration fuel, and the thing wriggled and contracted, but there was no room for avoidance, and the flames converged upward, and the last remnants of the abomination burned indiscriminately, and the malicious white light was completely annihilated.

Its contraction brings great convenience to combustion, and the dry shrinkage tissue takes over the grease, responsible for the second half of this grand bonfire, the soft tissue connecting the joints is burned, the skeleton collapses, the organic components of the bones are lost, and the surface is blackened.

Kraft, who had moved to the window early, waited for the first and possibly final bonfire of his life to go out, and the skeletal skeletal mass spread out in a large area, and the strangely shaped surface carbonized tissue was indistinguishable.

Approaching the edge of the fire, where the heat had not yet dissipated, he stepped on a piece of charred black bone, which shattered into small pieces with a crackling sound, and sure enough, as the systematic anatomy teacher said, the calcined bone had few organic components, and it was hard and brittle.

I didn't have a chance to touch one in class back then, and the teacher showed the only calcined bone in the whole classroom in a glass frame, but I didn't expect to be able to waste one to try the texture today, and I don't need to worry about the heavy punch of medical ethics, I have to say that it is really a bit extravagant.

There are still a lot of scattered ones on the ground, large and small, with upper and lower limbs and torso bones, if it were not for the potential danger, I really want to take them back as teaching aids.

He was thinking wildly about relieving his mental stress, the distorted, wriggling phantoms that were still flickering in front of him had faded slightly, and there were still overlapping auditory hallucinations in his ears, as if the wreckage was not dead, but had temporarily lost the physical life defined by mortals.

Now is a good opportunity to go back, but his job is not done. In the middle of the mass that was more pleasing to the eye after it was burned, there might be the answer he wanted......

It could also be another mystery.