Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: Blood's Duty
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Arsen observed the object claiming to be a spear, striving to maintain as much composure as possible.
No matter who looked at it, it appeared to be a drill affixed in place of a spearhead, yet Everic insisted it was a spear.
Clinging to the faint hope that it merely resembled a drill at a glance and wasn't actually one, he examined it again from every angle. But no—there was no mistaking it. This was just a drill. It bore no blade whatsoever.
[Barcran, any idea what this thing is...?]
[Isn't it for digging holes in the ground? That's what it looks like.]
Barcran's voice echoing in his mind shattered Arsen's last shred of hope.
He had dared to wonder if, in ancient times, drills served some exotic purpose beyond the obvious. His response carried an involuntary sigh of dismay.
[Guess it's not just my eyes playing tricks on me, then.]
[So what the hell would you even use that for?]
Barcran, who had chided him like that, suddenly voiced a question of his own.
[But isn't the design way too modern? I thought stuff from my era was long gone.]
[Who knows—maybe it's a quirk of this place...]
"Here, give it a try."
At Everic's suggestion, Arsen stepped forward to the spear without a chance to dwell on Barcran's words.
He carefully lifted it, then channeled mana into it.
'Oh.'
With a whir, the drill began to spin slowly.
The rotation speed adjusted based on the amount of mana poured in—the more mana, the faster it spun.
Testing its limits, he fed it mana until it was at capacity. The drill unleashed a deafening roar that seemed to shake the entire building.
The noise was so immense that the typical rumble of a construction-site drill would have sounded like a lullaby by comparison.
Swinging the spinning drill through the air produced a ravenous sound, as if it were greedily devouring the atmosphere itself.
'What if this thing touched something...?'
The moment that thought crossed his mind, Everic approached with sword in hand.
The old man thrust his longsword straight at Arsen.
"Let's give it a simple test."
The intent behind offering the sword was obvious. He wanted to gauge the rotation's power.
Arsen brought the spinning drill to Everic's proffered blade—gently, as if handling an egg.
Despite his caution, the instant drill met steel, a harsh screech of grinding metal erupted.
Followed by a pathetic snap—the sword cleaved cleanly in two.
And that was without even striking or thrusting; he had merely touched it.
Barcran gasped in Arsen's mind.
[What the—no way... How do you mod a damn excavator into a weapon like that?]
[Like I'd know.]
Replying as he did, Arsen glanced at Everic, who still held the broken sword.
Blood trickled from the old man's hand where a shard had flown, yet he stared blankly at the severed blade in a daze.
"Grandfather."
"Huh..."
Everic let out a low murmur, as if he hadn't heard Arsen at all.
"Incredible... truly incredible. So this is the spear wielded only by the Leader and Guardian."
His awe carried a strange undercurrent of envy and regret. If this spear was reserved solely for the Leader, Everic could never wield it himself—a natural response.
Still gazing vacantly at the spear, Everic asked,
"Do you know what 'Isht' means, the name of that spear?"
"I would be grateful if you enlightened me."
"Isht, they say, was the name of a mountain from distant antiquity, forever lashed by ceaseless storms. I've never witnessed a storm myself—only read of such things in memoirs—but seeing that spear's fury, I can grasp why they must be terrifying. You've come from the surface, so you likely know the sensation all too well."
Hearing such a grandiose description for what was unmistakably a spear with a drill head was almost embarrassing.
Its power was undeniably fearsome enough to suit the name, though.
Oblivious to Arsen's inner thoughts, Everic clapped him on the shoulder with a relieved expression.
Then, abruptly, his face hardened.
"Now that you're ready to confront the nets, it's time I revealed a grave secret."
"A secret?"
"The reason I summoned you here was to share this. It's a truth known only to a scant few within our bloodline."
Sensing the gravity in the old man's tone, Arsen withdrew the mana from the spear and carefully set it aside.
Confirming Arsen was prepared to listen, Everic began his cautious explanation.
"You wouldn't know the origin of the nets."
"No. Even among us underground folk, there are only theories—no clear answer..."
"Indeed. That makes sense. Only we know the truth. We, who led humanity from the surface."
A tale of the nets' origins.
Eager for answers on this long-curious topic, Arsen straightened up attentively.
"This all comes from the memoirs of our progenitor, Radus."
Radus.
The first Leader, who guided humanity underground—the underground humans' founder, in a sense.
He was also the ancestor of their Leader bloodline, yet astonishingly few underground dwellers even remembered his name.
"Radus had a wife named Yerika. Our lineage descends from the child they bore, so to us, she's no outsider."
"Yes."
"As you know, Radus was a Leader and a knight. Yerika was a mage."
Arsen already knew this. Mages were notoriously difficult to connect with; treating them like ordinary folk earned immense goodwill.
It was also the source of the odd guilt he felt whenever dealing with Eloise.
Simply because he bore the successor bloodline and felt no aversion, he received boundless favor.
"In any case, the pair fled some surface cataclysm, leading people underground. Radus commanded considerable influence aboveground, making it possible. And once below, an object of immense power appeared before them."
"Immense power...?"
"Something that manipulates human blood, transforming descendants into superior beings."
Without thinking, Arsen's face stiffened as he asked Barcran,
[Hey, this what I think it is?]
[I only heard it too, but yeah, probably. A gene manipulator...]
From the relic era through Barcran's time, ancient humanity had mastered life manipulation.
The sophistication was so staggering that even Arsen, with memories of advanced scientific civilizations, found it surreal.
"Radus wished not only for his own descendants but for others too—their bloodlines altered to endure the harsh underground life with ease. To that end, he offered himself as the test subject, hoping all underground humanity would thrive."
On the surface, it sounded a noble sacrifice. Though harder to fully endorse, since the cost fell not just on him but his progeny as well.
"But Yerika refused. Radus's child was her child too—who would experiment on their own flesh and blood? In my view, Radus was remarkable in many ways, but Yerika's reaction seems perfectly normal. Of course, what she did next was utterly unforgivable..."
Everic's voice grew quieter as he spoke.
"In the end, Yerika strayed down the wrong path. She lied to Radus, claiming she was experimenting on him, while kidnapping other settlers for her twisted trials. She hid it so thoroughly that the truth took twenty years to surface."
It was a thoroughly unsettling tale.
Their pairing—a Leader knight and a mage—evoked Arsen and Eloise for him.
"Decades after descending underground, Radus grew healthier with age, and their children were born flawless—beautiful, exceptional, without side effects. A boon, but unnatural. Radus began suspecting Yerika."
"That alone?"
"Though a brilliant mage, she wielded an object known to cause all manner of side effects—yet suffered none."
Arsen pondered briefly before replying to Everic's words.
"She must have used trial data to apply only the safe elements."
"Presumably, though we can only guess."
Meanwhile, Everic fetched a rag from somewhere and began wiping the metal shavings from the floor.
Arsen offered to help, but the old man shook his head firmly in refusal.
The explanation continued amid the swish of the rag.
"The truth eventually emerged. Over twenty years, Yerika sacrificed over a hundred humans in experiments, extracting only the viable results to bestow on Radus."
"And then?"
"Deeply shaken, Radus tried convincing her otherwise but failed. Civil war erupted. Surprisingly many sided with Yerika—those willing to forsake human values to strengthen their bloodlines."
It carried a pointed undertone. From the ancient creators' perspective—the gene manipulator's owners—Radus himself had abandoned human values by seeking to alter bloodlines.
Barcran muttered listlessly as he listened.
[This is like some cheap vid-drama plot.]
[Quiet.]
After shushing him, Arsen fixed his gaze squarely on Everic.
The story seemed headed for its climax.
"The war ended in victory for Radus's followers, but at great cost. Yerika led the defeated into exile at the uncharted frontier ahead. Decades later... beings resembling humans, yet far stronger and more grotesque, began emerging from there. We named them the nets."
That explanation alone sufficed to infer the nets' origins.
Defeated in war, Yerika had retreated with her followers into the unknown depths, grinding her teeth in rage.
Betrayed by a husband who spurned her intentions despite them being for his sake, and by his ungrateful adherents—she burned for revenge.
To build an army against them, she twisted and remade her followers' genes, forging a force to overwhelm humans underground.
"It's also why we can't ascend to the surface to fight the nets. We too are Yerika's descendants, inescapably tied to her sin."
"Have you never called for reinforcements from the surface?"
Everic gave a faint, wistful smile at Arsen's question.
"We tried once, long ago. A Leader convinced a surface warlord craving the entire underground as his domain. Over ten Guardians and a hundred warriors came to our aid."
Judging by the numbers, the warlord was likely a surface estate lord.
Otherwise, commanding over ten knights would be near impossible.
"But they were unskilled in underground warfare and too arrogant to heed the Leader. A ragtag mob rife with infighting—they suffered total defeat, of course. The dearth of mages was a fatal flaw too. That loss worsened our plight. Human factions once holding vast sway against the nets were reduced to hiding as we are now."
It was astonishing they didn't panic at tales of outside aid by this point.
Likely, other underground records omitted or obscured it.
"The conclusion is simple. The nets are our sin to endure—and our foe to exterminate."
Declaring it resolutely, Everic turned to Arsen and added in a slightly deflated tone,
"Of course, burdening you—raised on the surface—with our bloodline's karma is hardly just. But you have your own reasons to fight the nets, I've heard. And your many talents stem from being born of our line, so you can't entirely shirk the duty."
"You speak truly."
Personally averse to atoning for parents' or ancestors' sins, Arsen voiced agreement without showing it.
As Everic said, he had to fight the nets regardless—no need for emotionally charged words.
Pleased by the attitude, Everic laughed heartily for the first time since Arsen had met him.
"May that spear prove a mighty aid against the nets."
"It will be immensely helpful. My sincere thanks."
Arsen bowed deeply, gratitude genuine.