The vanguard pirate ships allowed the biovore corvette to pass them by. Despite being in the heart of Oleander’s fleet, surrounded by massive frigates crewed by the Pirate Lord's strongest corsairs, none of Eri’s crew was in the slightest bit concerned about them.

  After all, compared to the behemoth of decay awaiting them, everything else felt inconsequential.

  The reports already informed the expedition that the Despoiled Canticle would be massive — a kilometre long and a third that in height — but there was no way anyone could realistically imagine and prepare for meeting such a horrifying sight in person.

  The dreadnought’s scale was a struggle to comprehend. An organism the size of a mountain; Too much meat — there was simply no way a creature of its size should exist. Physics and biology would dictate that the beast collapse under its own weight or that its bodily functions overheat and fail from exertion long before it grew to those dimensions.

  The leviathan existed anyway — breathing, shuddering, stuck perpetually in a state between death and life.

  It was a monster said to have been born in the era of the Second Demon King, the Drowned God that sundered the West thousands of years ago.

  Eri and his crew grasped and recoiled as the biovore corvette sailed closer to the leviathan’s open maw. The horrors of their own ship seemed tamed now compared to the looming jaw before them. The sheets of pockmarked chitin alone were the size of parade fields; the barnacle-infested teeth hanging above bearing chilling cavities and orifices. Any sane person would be running in the opposite direction.

  The corvette sailed closer anyway, uncaring of its crew’s concerns as it entered the maw of the undead beast. Thick clusters of rotten flesh dripped from the roof of its mouth, crashing into the bloody waters along the flank of the ship. From those clusters writhed maggots the size of horses, some even wiggling their way to the biovore corvette, perhaps seeking new flesh.

  The corvette’s tentacles easily smashed them aside. The maggots burst like balloons, showering the deck with a foulness beyond description.

  The crew was moved below deck. Eri doubted even he could convince them to stay above in such a stench. The sheer size of the leviathan was already madness enough to witness. Chosen or not, if he pushed his companions any further, they would lose their nerves.

  Soon, he, Deyara, and Commander Amber were the only ones left on deck. Deyara’s expression remained cautiously curious even as they entered the maw of the beast. Commander Amber was smoking on her pipe for dear life, though she did not venture below with the others even when Eri insisted.

  “When things go south — and they will go south — I’d rather be out here ready to fight,” Amber shakily explained. “Besides, the fox isn’t out here, so that’s a plus.”

  Eri frowned. “Why isn’t Kalisa out here, anyway? I thought a sight like this would have her interest. Disgusting stench aside, this creature is a wonder to behold. I doubt there are many monsters of this size in the entirety of Thalmyra.”

  “That’s not surprising. Her absence is more for the creature’s sake than anything,” Amber explained sourly.

  At Eri’s bewildered and questioning gaze, the Commander chuckled and elaborated, “One thing you should know if you’re travelling with the damn Fox is that you should keep her away from anything ancient and powerful. This creature might be undead, but it likely still holds a shard of sentience.”

  “And that’s relevant… because?” Eri hesitantly asked.

  “It might recognise her,” Amber giggled, a little hysterical. “And if it does, it will react very, very poorly to her.”

  In other words, Amber was saying that Kalisa was staying out of sight in case she accidentally distressed the island-sized monster.

  “This is ridiculous. After this is over, I’m going to get the truth of her origins out of her,” Eri grumbled.

  “You should not,” Amber immediately said. “I made that mistake once. Trust me, if I could go back to not knowing what she really was and just keep ignorantly hugging her fluffy tail, I would take it in a heartbeat.”

  ~~~

  Once the corvette was completely within the dreadnought, the fetid maw ponderously closed shut behind them. The sound of grinding flesh and bone-shaking moans reverberating deep within the creature’s stomach caused some below deck to vomit. The three above held their nerve, however. Their eyes never strayed from the putrid gore.

  Darkness took hold, but only for a moment. A wide range of illumination suddenly lit up within the cavernous gullet of the beast. Bioluminescent plankton in the bloody waters glowed bright green, casting shadows of strange aquatic life that teemed beneath the crimson surface. On the fleshy roof, millions of strange, skittering insects with human-faced carapaces glowed a brilliant sky blue. The sudden brightness and off-putting combination of colours made Eri dizzy.

  Before he could adjust, the wiggling creatures above unfurled their wings — slick, oil-hued iridescence — and began beating them furiously, flooding the cavern with a gust of powder. A stinging, but not altogether unpleasant, floral scent rained from above, washing away the unbearable putrescence.

  The surroundings grew marginally less horrid.

  “Huh. Cute. Guess our host holds some consideration for their guest,” Amber grunted.

  “Those creatures are not natural,” Deyara commented. “Products of extensive biomanipulation. They are also quite dead. The hold of necromancy pervades the entire ship.”

  “I think the giant bugs with human faces gave that away already,” Amber deadpanned.

  “There are millions of those insects. Are you telling me Oleander controls all of them independently?” Eri asked.

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  “Not possible. Maybe he can direct a swarm or puppet them one at a time, but a complete command of this many undead would ruin his mind,” Deyara explained. “This ship, whatever it is, must be assisting his necromancy in some way.”

  “That’s something we might be able to exploit. If we can destroy whatever catalyst is keeping this dreadnought running, we might be able to send the zombies into a frenzy. Break his control,” Amber hummed.

  “Do you think the man would be open to a discussion before we begin hostilities?” Deyara mused. “It is not often I meet a fleshweaver of this calibre. I would like to ask him more about his work.”

  “Focus on the task at hand. We are here to find the Church captives. Everything else is secondary,” Eri reminded. “Deyara, tell Peythra to keep the corvette steady and continue down the… throat. If anything goes wrong, be ready to blast our way out. Marchosias and Andrealphus will assist us from outside, but against a dreadnought of this size, even they will struggle to free us.”

  “If anything does go wrong while we’re still stuck in the belly of a zombie dreadnought, we will probably be dead before your two pet demon nobles could save our sorry asses,” Amber pointed out. She then grimaced. “That’s a weird sentence I’d never thought I’d say.”

  “Have a little faith,” Eri sighed. “I once waged war against an entire continent. I’m not entirely void of strategy.”

  ~~~

  “Greetings, honoured guest. The Master welcomes you to his humble vessel and eagerly awaits you in the main hall.”

  Looming within an enormous open cavern — a place that probably once served as the levithain’s stomach — was a dockyard of massive proportions, made entirely of flesh and bones, and hovering over a lake of thick, bubbling blood.

  The air was humid. It reeked of iron and bile. Yet despite the ghastly conditions, the sound of work and industry could be heard: hammering tools, burning furnaces, and grinding pulleys.

  A reception party had gathered at the busy dock, prepared to meet the Biovore corvette. The words spoken by the group's leader were warm and welcoming, delivered once the ramp came down and lumbering tentacles helped pull the corvette into docking.

  Eri barely heard the speaker. It was a struggle for him to remain calm. To his right, Deyara had a warning hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. To his left, Amber took a deep drag of her pipe before letting out a heavy sigh, her expression resigned, and a hand already placed on the pommel of her sheathed blade.

  “Well. Shit’s fucked, ain’t it?” The Imperial Commander tiredly said.

  Within the reception party sent by Lord Oleander, not a single living soul was to be found. Instead, what greeted them was a menagerie of gruesome horror. Human, beast, and demonic flesh, stitched together to form the parody of a quadrupod giant. Nearly twenty misshapen faces bulged from the leathery, purple-veined torso of the grotesque creature, all of which spoke in soronous enunciation when greeting him.

  The repulsive sight of the atrocity was not what gave rise to Eri’s horror, however. It was the recognisable tattoos inscribed upon the many faces that made him sick.

  Church tattoos. Symbols of devotion to the Goddess, etched upon the acolytes’ flesh on the day of their ascension.

  The bodies used to create the beast were those of the Holy Order captives whom Eri had come to save.

  The only reason he had not flown into a frenzied rage yet was that Elen’s visage was not found upon the skin of that horrid creature. He did not think he could control himself if he saw her melded with the macabre beast.

  “Truth be told, this was the expected outcome when we set ourselves on this venture,” Deyara said calmly. “The Chosens of the Church were all exceptional fighters. Those of the Penitent Knights sent with the Coalition are all Silver or Gold Cores, minimum. Faced with an abundance of such excellent materials, a necromancer of Oleander’s calibre would not have the patience to restrain himself. The chances of finding survivors were always slim.”

  “Ignore her. Your ward might still be alive. Don’t do anything stupid,” Amber warned.

  At her voice, the shambling horror turned its multitude of heads to the Commander, causing her to stiffen. The creature spoke in unison once more. “Imperial Officer Amber, ‘Hero’ of the 24th Crusade. The Master extends his invitation to you as well. He wishes us to inform you that he has forgiven you for your past transgression against him. So long as the invited expeditioners do not incite hostilities, no violence shall be witnessed while guests remain on this ship.”

  “How generous,” Amber sneered. “Well then, shall we?”

  The trio had a brief discussion inside the Biovore corvette with the others. In the end, only Eri, Amber, Deyara, and Cedric — hidden reluctantly in Eri’s shadow — followed along to traverse deeper into the bowels of the ship.

  “Everyone else, stay ready. Captain Lauren, you are in charge. Remember the plan we’d discussed,” Eri had instructed.

  The shambling horror led the way, and the rest followed it through the belly of the beast. The fleshy shipyard was not entirely ugly to gaze upon. Ignoring the repulsiveness of the material used in its construction, the overall structure and design of it was a marvel.

  The soles of Eri’s boots clicked pleasantly against a floor of polished bones, and the shipyard hummed to the rhythm of a gentle heartbeat as hundreds of insectile humanoids laboured on the birth of new naval monstrosities.

  “Something like this is not the work of months or even years. Oleander must have had this vessel for decades,” Deyara noted, an unsettling tinge of respect in her voice.

  “Correction. The Master has worked on this holy vessel for centuries, honoured Elf.” The shambling creature spoke with a cherry resonance — a discomforting contrast to its appearance. “Though the Master made his debut in the West only recently, the great Works he laboured on to make this holy vessel operational had been an effort long in the making. If you wish, the Master would gladly make time for an intellectual exchange on topics of mutual interest. Assuming all former businesses are concluded amicably, of course.”

  “Hm. Delightful as that sounds, I do not believe that outcome to be within my reach,” Deyara chuckled. “My allies take great issue with your Master’s moral laxity. As much as I respect our shared professions, I must decline.”

  “Good to see you won’t betray us for a fellow necrophilic, at least,” Amber murmured.

  “I know where my loyalties lie,” Deyara said easily. “Worry not. Our little Lord here has me bound more tightly than he knows.”

  “Enough chatter,” Eri commanded sharply. “Focus. We are reaching the hall. Get ready for anything. We still don’t know why he invited us here.”

  “The Master is saddened by your distrust, Young Master Elathion,” the giant creature gently said. “You, above all others, hold the greatest of our Master’s interest and respect. Much has been arranged such that a meeting between the two of you would be inevitable. I am sure if you give this opportunity a chance, you will find much common ground.”

  Eri frowned. “What do you mean by that? Why would Lord Oleander have an interest in me?”

  “All will be explained soon,” the creature said. “Here. We have arrived.”

  The doors to a vast chamber stood before the end of a hallway, lovingly crafted with alien sinew and massive bones. The slick wetness of parting gore was accompanied by a deluge of crimson at both ends, blood congealing into ligaments and threads of spiral rope that churned and tugged.

  The doors opened mightily, and the inner sanctum presented itself.

  Machineries of organs and arched bones, high ceilings crammed with scuttling servants whose backs opened into tendrils of sharp tools, glowing biotanks which incubate malformed newborns and milky lifeforms.

  It was a room of wonder and horror. And in the centre of it all was a man — lying on a rune-covered stone slab, the pallid skin of his torso peeled back.

  The sight of an exposed, weakly beating heart greeted them, surrounded by greyed organs and bleached bones — all seemingly dissolving into fine, pale particles.

  Eri tasted a loathsome saltiness in the air and recoiled. He knew this scent.

  The White Hunger Plague.

  The creature bowed. “Lord Oleander awaits his equal. Please, Young Master Elathion, approach and rejoice. The Master seeks your treatment. The role of surgeon is yours.”