The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 281: The Contamination (2) Dissecting

Vyrelda’s sharp voice cut through the heavy silence.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her tone a mixture of incredulity and caution. The others turned their eyes to Mikhailis, who stood in the midst of the grotesque remains of the corrupted monsters. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across his figure, illuminating the steady movements of his hands.

Mikhailis’s glasses caught a faint glint of light, reflecting the subtle data projections only he could see. His specialized blade, sleek and faintly glowing, moved with a surgeon’s precision as he worked through the creatures’ mutilated forms. He didn’t bother to look up, letting the question hang in the air for a moment before responding.

"Sorting out dinner," he muttered dryly, slicing into a bloated direwolf’s belly. A rush of greenish-purple ichor oozed out, the stench enough to make the others take a collective step back.

"Dinner?" Lira’s usually composed voice cracked slightly. "You can’t be serious." Her elegant posture faltered as she took another hesitant step away from the pile of remains.

"It’s a joke, Lira," Mikhailis said, glancing her way with a faint smirk.

"Mostly." He returned his focus to the task at hand, his blade slicing cleanly through the bloated tissue to reveal what looked like an intact organ within.

"Mostly?" Vyrelda’s voice dropped an octave, her hands tightening around the hilt of her massive sword.

"You’re not seriously planning on eating that, are you?"

Mikhailis didn’t answer immediately. His fingers worked with meticulous precision, his mind churning through possibilities as he examined the grotesque anatomy before him. The creatures were a testament to something unnatural—an eerie blend of malevolent intent and unrelenting chaos. Each incision, each dissection, revealed more about their horrific transformation.

These things were exposed to something powerful, he thought, his brows knitting in concentration. And intentional. The patterns don’t look random... Someone made this happen.

As if responding to his unspoken thoughts, Rodion’s calm, detached voice filled his ears.

Mikhailis paused, holding up a section of sinew shot through with greenish-purple veins that pulsed faintly even after death. The faint acrid scent of decay mixed with something sharper, almost metallic. He tilted his head slightly, as though the angle might reveal more.

"Controlled testing," he murmured under his breath, his voice low enough to go unnoticed by the others. His blade sliced through the tissue, exposing the internal structure. Instead of the clean severing of natural muscle, the cut revealed pockets of an oily, iridescent fluid that gleamed unnaturally in the firelight.

Mikhailis’s lips pressed into a thin line as he scraped some of the fluid into a small vial, sealing it with a practiced motion.@@@@

His blade paused again over another section of greenish-purple flesh. The corrupted veins writhed faintly, even in death, and he felt a wave of unease ripple through him. "Rodion, give me toxicity levels."

"Good to know," Mikhailis murmured, his tone laced with sarcasm. He carefully isolated the flesh, moving it to the ever-growing pile of "poisonous" material.

Mikhailis shook his head. "Noted. Just don’t start lecturing me about efficiency, Rodion."

"Love you too, Rodion," Mikhailis muttered, earning a curious glance from Lira. He ignored her, his focus returning to a section of uncorrupted tissue. This one was rare—small pockets of flesh unmarred by the corruption. He set it aside with care, labeling it as "edible."

Mikhailis smirked faintly. Always the optimist, aren’t you? He worked steadily, his mind cataloging every detail. Each piece of evidence brought him closer to understanding the scale of what they were dealing with—and how much worse it could get.

Lira’s voice broke his concentration.

"Your Highness, you’re just... you’re carving them up like it’s normal."

"If I don’t, how are we supposed to figure out what’s safe and what’s not?" he replied, his tone calm but firm. "I’m not risking all of us starving when we have—potentially—usable resources right here."

"Usable?" Estella chimed in, her expression one of pure disbelief.

"You’re calling this usable?" She gestured vaguely at the macabre piles around him.

"Would you rather I leave it all to rot?" he asked, not looking up. His hands moved deftly, extracting an uncorrupted organ from the twisted elk carcass before placing it in a small container.

"These parts aren’t as affected. I’d call that a win."

Cerys, who had been watching silently, crossed her arms.

"You’re awfully calm about this."