Spectre of the Sinner - Zetro Translation

POV: An Nguyễn, 1139 UTC +09:00, Porta Bocca

As the sun moved up to its highest position of the day, I finally reached the set destination. At this point, the scorching heat from the sun was not something that I could just ignore, thus I was relieved to have shelter to escape from the worsts that [Great Mother Gaia] had to offer.

Perhaps due to being relatively far away from the epicenter of the action, the complex fared much better as it still stood firmly near the tip of the westernmost stretch of land. While there were some traces of battle damage then and there, the most noticeable casualty was the heavily bent and twisted iron gate. Otherwise, as for the outer stone wall, which stood roughly 8 meters tall, they looked remarkably well-constructed and solid for their age. The various pairs of buildings embedded in the wall, arranged mainly along the cardinal directions, seemed to have served as watchtowers of sorts. In the interior, buildings served as barracks, and warehouses were arranged in a semi-circular pattern, with the barracks located closer to the entrance and the warehouses located further back.
The centerpiece of the complex was a 19-meter-tall tower constructed from rough-hewn stone slabs. While its lower one-third wearing a mossy-colored dress, it still stood tall and proud despite the cruel test of time. A brief survey from the drone’s cam feed showed that the roof was largely intact except for a few small punctures, which I judged to be manageable. And while it was quite difficult to get a full picture of the tower’s interior, glimpses of the lighthouse’s interior could be seen. It seemed that I had some work to cut out here, which dampened my mood considerably.

Lightly vaulting over the misshapen gate, I cautiously advanced toward the lighthouse as I heightened my guard. With the optical camouflage turned on, I safely reached the lighthouse while leaving as little traces as possible. What was alarming was the appearance of various small not-quite-humanoid tracks scattered around the complex, suggesting the existence of kins similar to that unlucky creature I watched earlier. No wonder why I got some heat signatures around the tower’s ground level, with a particularly large one situated a short distance from the lantern room. Weirdly enough, while I spotted occasional footprints going in and out of the various buildings, I got negative results on the thermal.

“Seemed that those critters are out of town for now huh?”, I questioned myself.

As I tip-toed toward the tower, I had a good view of the lighthouse’s front door. Exhaling a relieved sigh at how the door still held up decently, I planted an explosive charge and a concealing talisman onto it.

Unfortunately, I’m not that kind of dumb to just charge in frontally. Hell no, I consider shooting an unsuspecting schmuck in the back much more rewarding and more fun than just plainly engaging in a frontal assault, thank you very much.

Thus, I took the extra step to climb up to the top floor and slipped through a broken lens. Once I slithered my way inside, an uncomfortable stench assaulted my nose, making me furrow my brows. Even I couldn’t resist the temptation to try to fan away the unbearable stench despite knowing that it was a futile endeavor. And as if this place was dead set against my presence, the staircase showed serious signs of deterioration. The extent of the degradation was so severe to the point that I felt practically the upper half of the staircase was too dangerous to even put something heavier than 30 kilograms on a step.

“Wow, to think that such a stench managed to fucking penetrate my gas mask,” I flipped my finger toward both the source of the smell and the staircase, “I commend you for managing to do what the damn NATO couldn’t during the whole war. This me shall reward you lot for that.”

Clutching the promise close to my heart, I rappelled down to a suitable height, barely just above the watch room, I visually confirmed that the inhabitants on the ground floor were indeed the same kind of preteen-sized humanoid creature which I had the pleasure to watch its demise. It was only at this point I belatedly realized what those critters were: the very staple cannon fodder for the malevolent forces in the fantasy genre, the [Goblyns].

Numbering a total of over 10 litter, the whelps were in the middle of a feeding frenzy, quarreling with each other over the juiciest parts of a fawn-like carcass. One was trying its hardest to tear out the rear right leg with its arsenal of vicious fangs and skinny arms, and once it succeeded, two of its siblings jumped in at a chance to steal a bite or two, only to get rebuffed harshly by the original claimant. Another just snagged an organ from the carcass chest cavity, only to have its trophy snatched away by another of its kind. Angered by the theft of its rightful prize, the critter let out a high-pitched whoop before tackling the thief, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. Sensing an opportunity, one of the [Goblyns] that had been gnawing voraciously into the fawn’s forelimb hurriedly grabbed the organ and, using a distinctively chimpanzee-like knuckle-walking gait, fled to a distant corner of the space to enjoy its ill-gained trophy in relative peace while giggling at its still fighting siblings.

Deciding to refocus my mind away from the rather lively scene, I carefully oriented myself toward the lighthouse’s lantern room door. This time I had to be much more cautious in my approach, as the wooden door was slightly ajar, with parts of the door’s hinges slightly busted apart. Figuring to have my curiosity sated, I peeked through a prominent gap in the door. Inside the storage room lay a large, obese humanoid beast that was sleeping rather peacefully considering the ruckus downstairs. Yet what caught my attention was its abnormally large torso section: it was so swollen to the point that it resembled the abdomen of an egg-laying queen ant. Due to the stretched-thin skin, a couple of what looked like infant [Goblyns] could be observed inside that translucent sac, seemingly nearing the end of the gestation period.

“Thanks for this fucking piece of a cursed nature documentary, can’t even fucking unsee this at this point.”

Throwing my gratitude at the damn creature for giving me such an eyeful, I carefully pulled out a plastic tube the size of the bottom tier of a canteen tiffin from the [Armory]. After applying a concealing talisman onto it, I placed it on the stair landing a healthy distance away from the door, which seemed to be sturdy enough to support the occupant of the room when it wasn’t preoccupied with its reproductive mission. Confirming the position of everything, I pulled myself up on the rappel line while swapping the [Kalashnikov] with the [Super Lynx].