Fendrel watched with detached curiosity as the acolyte collapsed. Her body hit the stone floor with a dull thud, twitching once before going still. His hands remained steady as he dragged her inside, positioning her behind the heavy wooden table he used to barricade the door.

He gathered the ingredients for Witherfang Resin with methodical precision - Bloodthorn Resin, crushed ashroot, Spiderling Venom, and a precise measure of Frostbloom Dust.

After drinking both completed toxins, an eerie silence fell over the church above.

[PARASITE STATUS]: Agitation level decreased. Next dose required in 10 hours.

The earlier rushing of footsteps had ceased at some point. Fendrel's fingers traced the edge of a empty vial as he waited, every creak and groan of the old building making his skin crawl.

The peace shattered as bells began tolling. The next moment the door rattled against the table, pushing it forward inch by inch. Fendrel threw his weight against it, but steel blades punched through the wood, nearly skewering him.

"Open the door, Solinar," a cold voice commanded through the splintered wood. "Your trick with the Blackthorns was bad enough. Now look what you are doing - how many people do you want to die before you pay for your arrogance?"

Fendrel grabbed a vial of toxin with trembling fingers and pressed himself flat against the wall beside the door, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat as he waited. Sweat trickled down his spine, making his shirt cling uncomfortably to his skin.

The assassin burst in, wood fragments spraying across the floor. Fendrel flung the Witherfang Resin at the intruder's face, but the man's dagger flashed upward with impossible speed, knocking it aside. The caustic liquid splashed against the stone wall, eating through it with a violent hiss that made both men freeze. Fendrel watched in horror as tendrils of acrid smoke rose from the dissolving stone.

What the hell am I drinking?

Their moment of shocked stillness broke as Fendrel bolted for the exit, his survival instincts screaming, but an iron grip yanked him back by his collar like a misbehaving pup. White-hot pain exploded through his arm as a blade sank deep into muscle, drawing a strangled cry from his throat.

"Stop fighting," the assassin snarled, pushing Fendrel against a wall while pulling the blade out with a wet sound that turned his stomach. Blood ran warm down his arm, soaking into his sleeve. "Or I start taking your legs off piece by piece. Your choice."

Pain blazed through Fendrel's arm, blood soaking his sleeve in a dark crimson stain. He spat at the assassin's face, but to his chagrin the glob of saliva had no effect.

The assassin's lips curled into a snarl. "That the best you got?" He drew his blade back for another strike.

Fendrel lashed out with his injured arm, transformed claws gleaming in the dim light. The assassin blocked with his forearm, but Fendrel's blood splattered across his exposed skin.

The man's eyes widened. His throat constricted, hands letting go of Fendrel, clawing at his neck as he struggled to breathe. Terror replaced the earlier confidence as he dropped to his knees, then face-first onto the stone floor.

Fendrel stumbled past the body, bursting into the hallway. He slammed straight into another man - a man in light armor with twin crosses adorning his shoulders. The church Guardian held a short sword in one hand, a small shield in the other.

The soldier's gaze drifted to the laboratory doorway. "Interesting." He stepped around Fendrel. "Didn't think you had it in you to take out one of them."

Fendrel stood frozen as the man entered the lab, surveying the space before methodically collecting the red vials on the table.

The soldier paused at the acolyte's body, then moved to examine the assassin and the acid-eaten wall.

Understanding dawned on his face as he whirled back to Fendrel. But before he could raise his shield, Fendrel's hand shot out, striking the soldier across the face. It was merely a slap, but he managed to draw blood with his dark nails.

Confusion crossed the soldier's features before he cursed, dropping to his knees. Bright light erupted from his body - some kind of divine protection.

[STATUS]: Your poison resisted a cleanse.

[NEW CLASS SKILL]: Toxin purification resistance 1

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"Who would have thought you were one of them." The soldier tried to rise, muscles straining, but collapsed instead.

The reality of what he'd done - killing not one but two church members - hit Fendrel like a physical blow. His feet carried him down the corridor, heart thundering in his ears as he fled into the darkness.

Fendrel burst through the corridor doors into the main hall and froze. Thick smoke billowed through the chamber in rolling waves, punctuated by flashes of steel and bursts of divine magic. Dark-clad figures darted through the haze like wraiths, their blades gleaming with familiar green toxins.

The sickly sweet scent of Silkslither Toxin filled his nostrils. A church guardian stumbled past, clutching his throat as purple veins spread across his face. He collapsed at Fendrel's feet, eyes glazed and unseeing.

Three assassins emerged from the smoke, moving with unnatural grace as they surrounded a lone warden. The defender's mace crackled with holy energy, but he couldn't track their synchronized attacks. One blade found his neck, another a joint in his armor. He dropped without a sound.

Fendrels nails darkened further as fungal spores erupted from his pores, creating a damp, unsettling mist around him. The Fungal Aura provided some cover as he edged toward the main entrance, keeping to the shadows.

A flash of white caught his eye. Father Marcus - no, the Justiciar - stood few paces from the main door, his rosary blazing with intense light. An assassin materialized behind him, blade aimed for his spine, but the man spun with impossible speed. His palm struck the attacker's chest, burning through the flesh and bone. The assassin's scream cut off as his body disintegrated.

Marcus's gaze locked onto Fendrel through the smoke. "Solinar! Here, now!" His voice carried the same authority that had commanded him to brew earlier.

Fendrel's muscles tensed at the command, years of conditioning almost forcing him forward. But the smoke swirled thick around him, offering an escape route to the side exit. His nails dug into his palms as he wrestled with the decision.

A shadow detached itself from the chaos. The assassin materialized behind Marcus, blade already in motion. The priest's white robes bloomed crimson as steel bit deep into his shoulder. Blood sprayed across the marble floor in an arc.

The parasite writhed under Fendrel's skin, sending waves of burning pain through his arms. His fingers elongated into dark, chitinous claws as desperation overwhelmed rational thought.

"Fuck it all."

He charged through the smoke, his mutated hand raking across the assassin's back who was about to finish the Justiciar. The strike was clumsy, more flail than anything, but the element of surprise worked in his favor. His claws caught in the assassin's leather armor, tearing through it and the flesh beneath.

The assassin stumbled forward, trying to spin away, but it was too late. The man's eyes widened as the toxin took hold, his muscles spasming as he crashed to the floor.

[ACTIVE SKILL LEVEL UP] Mudclaw LEVEL 2

Fendrel watched as purple veins crept up Marcus's arm where the assassin's blade had struck. The priest's face contorted in pain - a telltale sign of Silkslither poisoning. The same toxin Fendrel had been brewing and selling for weeks.

Marcus yanked a crystal vial from his belt, uncorked it with his teeth, and downed the contents in one swift motion. The purple lines retreated slightly but didn't vanish completely. His breathing remained labored, sweat beading on his forehead.

Fendrel's eyes widened. An antidote? Not a perfect one, but effective enough to buy time. His mind darted to the well-stocked laboratory below. With those supplies, someone had to be brewing regularly - another Alchemist or Herbalist working for the church.

Marcus gripped his knee, pulling himself upright. Blood dripped from his wounded shoulder, staining the white stones crimson. "You have some explaining to do, Solinar." His voice rasped. "Where's Felix? The guardian sent to fetch you?"

Fendrel's throat went dry. "Dead. Took down one of the assassins before the poison got him."

Marcus's face hardened, jaw clenching as he processed the news.

A wet crunch echoed through the smoke-filled hall as the Warden's mace connected with another assassin's skull. The defender's armor gleamed with fire winged symbols, but fatigue showed in his movements. "These poisons..." He grunted. "Too potent. I have hard time cleansing them fast enough."

Fendrel's muscles burned as he backed toward Marcus, watching assassins slip through the smoke like wraiths. Their blades dripped with familiar toxins - his toxins. Blood and bodies littered the marble floor, the church's defenders falling one by one to poisoned steel.

The assassins pressed closer, but the warden with Marcus stayed near the entrance. The realization hit him - they weren't retreating. They were stalling.

Heavy boots thundered against stone as the church doors burst open. Guards poured in behind a panting acolyte, their armor reflecting the flickering torchlight. Steel scraped against leather as they drew their weapons.

Fendrel tracked the remaining assassins as they melted into the shadows instead of pushing the assault. One dropped a smoke bomb, filling their retreat with thick gray clouds. The last thing he glimpsed was the glint of daggers disappearing through broken windows.

Bodies littered the marble floor. Blood mixed with spilled potions, creating strange patterns across the stone. Fallen defenders lay twisted among broken pews and shattered glass. The air reeked of smoke, blood, and chemical residue.

Marcus leaned against a pillar, his face pale and slick with sweat. Purple lines still crept up his neck from the wound, but slower now. "Captain. Your timing proves... fortuitous." His words came between labored breaths. "Have your men secure the perimeter. Check for stragglers."

The guard captain barked orders, sending his squad to search the grounds. He kept his sword drawn as he approached Marcus. "When the acolyte reached us... said assassins breached the church."

"Indeed." Marcus gestured to the carnage. "Start treating the wounded. Brother Kain, gather the surviving healers."

A guard's shout cut through the organized chaos. "Wait - I know him!" He jabbed a finger toward Fendrel. "You're the fucker alchemist who poisoned the whole garrison in the upper district."

All eyes turned to Fendrel. The parasite squirmed under his skin, sensing danger. His clawed hand twitched behind his back.

"I didn't..." Fendrel's throat closed up. "What are you talking about?"

Marcus pushed away from the pillar, his priest's robes stained dark with blood. The purple lines on his neck pulsed as he fixed Fendrel with an icy stare. "It seems we've misjudged the scope of your talents, Master Solinar. You have much to explain."