Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 179. A Maniac

The creature stood tall—no, it loomed—a nightmare given form, its grotesque body scraping against the very laws of nature.

Over nine feet of skeletal terror, draped in writhing, semi-liquid shadows. Miasma bled from the cracks in its bones, seeping and curling with every twitch of its malformed limbs.

The ribs protruded outward like jagged spears, each laced with bone-threads that danced in the black air, twitching like they had a will of their own.

And its face?

There wasn’t one.

Instead, its torso bore its gaze—a horrifying canvas of dozens of unblinking, iridescent eyes. Eyes that blinked in erratic patterns, spiraling pupils spinning.

Slitted ones widened and shrunk at random intervals. Each glowed faintly with a sickly purple hue.

That very abomination now lay dormant in the shadows of a dying oak, hidden beneath layers of fog and tree bark, watching... waiting.

Its many eyes twitched in place, shifting to observe the broken students that lingered around the camp ruins.

But then—suddenly—its eyes turned sharply. Movement.

Two presences.

The monster didn’t hesitate. On instinct, its body dissolved into the shadows once more, its entire mass vanishing as though it had never existed. Only the faint trace of miasma and the silence that followed revealed its former presence.

Two figures stepped into view.

Zyon and Art.

Art stopped mid-step, narrowing his emerald eyes toward the warped, unnatural shadow stretching out from the old oak tree. His hand slowly slipped into his coat pocket.

He didn’t speak at first, just stared at the distorted silhouette as though he was daring it to breathe.

Then, quietly, he muttered to Zyon, "Check the other direction. That thing’s smart. If I were it, I’d keep moving—west of here is thick with trees. Could be hiding in one of them."

Zyon nodded, his voice low. "Right. Be careful. This thing took out over a dozen Rank ★★. That’s not a joke anymore. Keep your guard up."

Art glanced sideways at him and smirked. "C’mon now, it’s me. Your boy’s strong as hell. If I get in trouble, I’ll call, shouting like a little girl... maybe."

Zyon rolled his eyes, gave him a brief pat on the shoulder, and darted westward with practiced grace.

Now alone, Art exhaled, then turned back toward the oak tree. His body language remained casual—one hand still deep in his pocket, the other swaying lazily by his side.

He crouched before the tree, dragging his fingers along the edge of the gnarled roots. A soft golden glow shimmered from his fingertips, carving traces into the shadow.

The moment his mana touched the gloom—

An eye opened.

Slitted. Bloodshot. Inhuman.

It peeled open from the bark like a bleeding wound, glaring at him with raw, twitching malice.

Art met the gaze, grinning like a lunatic. "Ahh," he drawled, cocking his head to the side. "Aren’t you a lovely bag of bones. What’s the matter? Couldn’t find any orphans to melt today?"

The air shifted. The shadows roared.

The beast exploded out of the oak’s shadow like a nightmare made liquid—black tendrils and jagged limbs reaching forward.

A spurt of black goo launched toward him, a projectile of corrosive miasma screeching through the air.

But Art was already moving.

He leaned to the side with a practiced sway, the goo whistling past his ear before splattering behind him—hissing as it burned through the bark of a nearby tree, reducing it to a melted husk.

The goo twitched.

Then writhed.

And finally reassembled—its body stitching itself back together as the full monster emerged, rising to its horrifying height. Its many eyes focused on Art with pure malice.

The skeletal beast lifted one of its elongated arms, bones creaking and miasma hissing. Its fingers extended into jagged rods—then—

Fwoooosh!!

A beam of blackened light, condensed and cursed, erupted from its palm, crackling as it tore through the air with bone-melting intensity.

Art’s eyes narrowed. "Tch. Knew you’d get frisky."

He flicked his finger and muttered under his breath.

"[Creation: Forcefield]."

A golden shimmer erupted instantly, forming a hexagonal barrier around him just as the beam collided.

The impact sent dust and debris flying.

The forcefield held.

But even as it flickered and bent, Art didn’t flinch.

Through the veil of light, he met the monster’s many eyes and whispered with a wild grin.

"...This is gonna be fun."

Art raised his hand skyward, a wild grin carved across his face as the light of dawn shimmered in his amber eyes.

"[Creation: Hell-Chains]!"

His voice echoed like a war drum through the shattered forest, and the very air around him convulsed.

From the fabric of space itself, thousands upon thousands of black, tendril-like chains erupted. They slithered out from invisible cracks, their surface crackling with violet flames, burning with an otherworldly, purplish glow. The chains coiled like serpents in heat, snapping with hunger, and within seconds—

They wrapped around the towering abomination.

The skeletal creature let out a distorted groan as the chains latched onto its limbs, torso, spine, even its twitching ribs, binding it like a sacrificial god. Miasma oozed and hissed, but the chains only burned brighter in its presence. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Art’s grin widened. "Let’s take this somewhere else, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response—not that the creature could offer one—he tugged violently on the chains. The force was enough to shake the surrounding trees, and with a great screech of displaced wind, he dragged the monster with him.

Past the burnt treeline, into the scorched glade he had prepared.

His eyes were glinting, his mouth curled into a feral smile—this was joy. Pure, unadulterated elation.

"Ahahahaha!" he cackled, spinning and then slamming the creature to the ground, the chains tightening with his motion.

BOOM!

The monster’s body hit the cracked earth, skidding, scattering miasma across the ground like oil. Its bones cracked from the impact, but that wasn’t the end.

It tried again—to escape, to slip into the shadows.

But this time, there were no shadows.

The entire glade was soaked in harsh sunlight, shimmering across blackened soil and seared bark. The trees that once stood tall were now charred stumps, scorched down by Art’s relentless assault earlier. There was nowhere left for the creature to vanish to.

Above, his chains still hovered, dozens of them suspended in the air, coiling in serpentine patterns, writhing in anger, hunger, and rage.

Art took one step forward, then two.

He raised a hand casually, and with a gleam in his eye, muttered again:

"[Creation: Flames of Purgatory]!"

Immediately, the suspended chains ignited—this time in violet-gold fire. The flames shimmered, ethereal and hot, and then—

Whoosh!

They lashed downward in unison, like vipers lunging for prey, each chain aiming to pierce and burn through the creature’s very soul.

But the monster—

It didn’t dodge.

Instead, it stilled.

Its many erratic eyes stopped twitching, all turning unnaturally calm—as though clarity had struck.

And then, with a sickening noise of snapping bones and screeching mist, its arms merged together, fusing into a grotesque lance. The air around it darkened as miasma surged from every crack in its body, engulfing it like a second skin.

The miasma collided with the oncoming chains and—

Hissssssss!!!

The chains began to melt. Not burn. Not snap.

Melt.

The violet fire couldn’t hold. The Purgatory-born chains began to sizzle and corrode, turning to sludge as the miasma devoured them.

Art’s grin faltered—but only slightly.

"...Heh."

A scoff escaped him. Not of fear. But of genuine amusement.

He clicked his tongue, then snapped his fingers once again.

"[Creation: Disintegration]!"

The response was immediate.

The broken remains of the chains, those that still hovered in the air, shuddered as golden light surged through them. The glow ran like veins through their charred lengths—until they acted not just as weapons, but as conduits.

Wisps of golden vapor bled from the ends of the chains. The moment it touched the creature’s miasmic skin—

SHHHHHHHHRK!!!

The monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, the likes of which could shatter bone and chill blood. It writhed in agony, trying to claw the vapor off its skin, but the golden mist kept eating it—flesh, miasma, bone—everything.

Its legs buckled. The ribs snapped inward. One by one, the blinking eyes across its torso began to wither and go blind, collapsing into themselves like crushed fruit.

The monster started to crumble, dissolve, disintegrate—piece by piece, inch by inch, like a statue ground into dust.

Art watched it. Calmly. Quietly.

Then he exhaled a single word:

"...Pathetic."

The light faded.

And with it, the last fragments of the monster turned to ash—lost to the wind.

Or so he thought, as soon as Art causally strolled back to the camping site. Clicking his tongue in irritation.

The fragments of the monster started to merge again, it’s ginormous body was once gain becoming one.

Step by step, little by little. It’s massive frame, it’s skeletal limbs and its erratic eyes all of it merged back, creating the monster once again.

The monster stared at Art’s direction with its now calm eyes, then slowly it turned back...

Going deeper into the forest.