Crown Of Blasphemy: Rise Of The Legendary Villain

They traveled for four days' through the rocky terrain, resting periodically to eat the rations they had prepared beforehand.

Mr. Valen had grown tired of eating these seeds not only because they tasted horrible, but because they did nothing to satiate his hunger.

It was as though his body could process the seeds but gained little nourishment from them.

"We're here," Thirio's voice cut through the gloom, snapping the still-naked Mr. Valen out of his thoughts.

Before him was a large rock covered with rows of tangled vines; this rock was one of many that stood tall around them.

Yes, they had indeed emerged into a field of rocks after days of walking through this cold, wet world to which he did not even know the name of.

Ignoring Mr. Valen's confused expression, Agrios stepped forward and cleared the vines, revealing a gaping crack lined with jagged, protruding edges.

If one gazed at this hole in the rock, they would be peering from dimness into a world of absolute darkness; it was the same—yet they entered, squeezing through.

Thankfully, the interior expanded beyond the crack's entrance, opening into a tunnel that plunged underground.

Mr. Valen felt his eyes adjust to the surroundings, and suddenly he became aware of pinpricks of bioluminescent fungi that lit up the gloom, a notion that fascinated him to no end, but of course, he could not think about it.

Diligently covering up the opening behind them, Agrios walked ahead of the group, his movements now loose, almost jaunty, as if shedding a weight; his mannerisms changing to one of happy-go-lucky ease.

Both Ouranos and Thirio also relaxed visibly in this tunnel, advancing until Thirio halted, noting Mr. Valen's stillness.

Making a full turn, he gazed at him with a tilted head, concern in his eyes. "What is the matter, alien?"

"Oh nothing," Mr. Valen said as he tore his gaze from the human or humanoid skulls embedded into the walls of the tunnel like some sort of decoration.

He suddenly had a very bad feeling about this place, a feeling of profound dread coiling in his gut despite the friendly approach of the man before him.

Despite all that, one would argue that it was too late to turn back; he could only move forward, and again, if they wanted him dead, they would have left him to die in that acidic plant.

And so the naked man walked alongside Thirio, he could not see Ouranos and Agrios anymore because they had gone too far, swallowed by the tunnel's shadows.

But where they had gone was like a whole other world entirely.

The tunnel opened into a vast cavern, as large as a small stadium, teeming with people.

The cave itself was irrationally large, and even in here, water still flowed, dripping from jagged, pointy rocks, stalactites, protruding from the ceiling.

The area was illuminated by what appeared to be wooden poles.

From where they had gotten the wood, he did not know, but they used it to cultivate large colonies of thick, glowing red fungi.

That, paired with the growths on the walls, tents, and ceilings gave the whole place an unsettling crimson halo.

"Stop staring and follow me," Thirio urged, striding into the throng. "You must meet the clan leader so you can become one of us."

While Mr. Valen followed, he noticed that the tents were made of hide and leather, propped up by wood and sticks.

The people wore rough garments and footwear made of roughly the same material, but not all wore clothes. The children, the elderly man, and women could be seen moving around naked, and they seemed quite comfortable.

One thing to note was that all of them had glowing red eyes, It was fascinating.

There was flowing water, black—liquid, running through the cavern's heart.

By the color of the thing, one would think that it was poisonous yet the children drank it without hesitation, unarmed.

"Mister, Mister Is that an alien?" One child spoke among a group of naked children that had approached them, but they spoke not to him.

"Yes, but he won't be an alien for long," Thirio answered before continuing onward.

Mr. Valen found himself growing acutely self-conscious. Something wasn't right about this place; he could feel it, his instincts screaming at him to run.

Their eyes, they all had the same wide, unnaturally large eye sockets, and he knew that it was an evolutionary trait, probably due to the low light environment, but reason fled before fear.

A few elders approached and touched his arms squeezing him tightly and welcoming him with a warm smile.

"You'll make a wonderful addition to the clan," one said.

"Hmm, he looks thin and lazy," grunted another.

But Thirio ignored all of them, he seemed strangely quiet among his own folk, in the meantime Ouranos and Agrios were nowhere to be seen.

They stopped before a very commanding tent, as large as a hut house certainly dwarfing any other tent around.

Standing aloof with spears in their grasps were two men as large as Thirio, eyes fixed blankly ahead.

Having obviously recognized Thirio, they paid the group no mind as they entered, and once again Mr. Valen found himself in a smaller, darker space.

The air smelled musty, it reeked, it smelled of mold, of mud, of human fluids, of meat, of rot, of onions, there was the smell of rain, and contaminated water, there was the smell of pig, horses, rabbits, worms—there was the smell of—of—

That smell, it was awful, and it was nothing, yet it was everything at once, so potent that his brain ached, so sickening that his vision blurred, and Mr. Valen felt his steps waver.

But then his healing factor took over, and his body stabilized. Imagine a smell so bad that his body, as strong as it was, would have to heal from it.

His vision adapted to the lower light soon after and before him was a slab of meat or one shaped like a man.

It—him—this thing was terribly obese in a way that he had surely never seen before. Mr. Valen wasn't even sure that the thing could speak.

But on his face were red eyes glowing intently.

With great vitality, the obese thing gazed down at him with a look that was hard to decipher, and it was disgusting to watch him move.

Around him, were five to six slender women, licking, caressing, and petting him—it—this thing, letting out moans of performative pleasure as they moved like snakes.

There were a few guards nearby, and Mr. Valen was sure that there was a pit in the middle of the room, and yet it was too dark and too deep for him to tell what was in it.

"Thirio, my boy, I see you have brought me an alien," the man spoke with a gurgling slur, his tone accompanied by a faint rumble most likely caused by his flapping flesh.

Taking a breath of this horribly foul air, Thirio, who seemed used to all this, dropped to a knee. His expression had long transitioned to a look of reverence.

With his head lowered he groaned, "Ohh great chef, your magnificence is a sight to behold-"

'The fuck,' Mr. Valen thought in absolute shock but held his tongue and watched.

"We rescued the alien from an evolved Skilion of the lowest level, and made a deal with it," Thirio began and continued, "he cannot harm us but we must give it food and shelter."

"I see," the chief said as he turned to Mr. Valen, a certain glint in his eyes, "you are quite thin boy, I hereby name you Long."

"Ehh, thank you, Chief," Mr. Valen responded, but he did not fall to his knees, nor did he sound servile; he may have lost the ability to think, but he was still him.

The Chief did not seem to mind, though; rather, he smiled, or at least he seemed to smile. It was hard to tell with him.

"Throw a banquet, and get him food and shelter," The Chief said waving his hand as though telling both parties to leave.

Mr. Valen was long gone, practically diving out of the tent as he found the smell near unbearable.

"What is it, Long?" Thirio raised a brow as he watched Mr. Valen bend over, fighting the urge to hurl.

It was surely a memorable experience, and for once he had found something that he loathed more than the smell of disinfectants and air fresheners.

Straightening his back, he asked amid deep halation, "What was that awful smell?"

"What smell?" Thirio echoed, while watching him strangely, like he'd just heard something from the mouth of a madman.

Walking forward after he said, "Come with me and stop playing around, we have to get you settled in."

"Ok, would you walk a tad slower then?" Mr. Valen muttered and followed behind grumpily, ignoring the piercing gazes of the denizens of this underground cave.