Chapter 221
Chapter 221
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 221
Chapter Title: Letters to Windmage (14)
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"Smooth sailing."
"Indeed. We probably didn't need to come here and lift a finger."
"The flying mutants were swatting them down like flies from the start. This time, the numbers were a bit higher, so I thought we'd intervene, but thankfully, they're handling it on their own."
"They're not idiots, just a tad short on common sense. A typical Rank 6 is treated like a sage no matter what country you go to."
Four days since arriving at Storm Hill.
The mages had started scouting and were finding one nest per day. As the Professor's group got used to the rear support, the mages also grew accustomed to dealing with chamber maids and nests.
"Three so far today. Two small ones and... that qualifies as a medium nest, right?"
"Affirmative. You can tell just by looking at those completely different ejection ports. See over there—that narrow, upward-stretching passage is likely the avian-type mutant's artificial womb. The slightly larger one attached to the ground is the egg sac organ. And there are plenty more tells. See those pillars encircling the central area where the maids are?"
"Those creepy wriggling tentacle things?"
"Yes, those. That's another feature of medium nests and up. Defensive structures attached directly to the nest itself. The ones visible now are close-range types that peel off anything clinging nearby, but they're using them as ranged defenses too—scooping up egg sacs from the tentacle tips and firing barrages of spines."
Medium nests definitely put up more resistance. With production capacity several times that of small nests, they endlessly churned out avian mutants—useless in combat—to block lightning strikes while deploying wriggling mutants and hermit crab-types capable of ranged attacks to fiercely counter the wind mages' assaults.
Of course, it was all futile.
Kaboom!
The Professor glanced at the nest while watching the mages drop thunderbolts from near the clouds. The hermit crab mutants' projectiles couldn't reach them, the avian mutants couldn't approach amid the indiscriminate wind cutter barrages from the clustered mages, and the wrigglers went without saying. Those were the parasitic mutants from Border White Territory—the skin crawlers. They'd probably been produced here and dropped one by one near the territory by the avian mutants. Sam had ended up handling the territory's cleanup too, by sheer coincidence.
But none of that concerned the Professor right now.
"Aldrich. Still no sign? Not inside the nests, but anywhere around here?"
"Not a trace. I embedded a few eyes around the mountains using your blood as a catalyst during the day, remember? It worked like a charm—maybe because you're known as a saint now. No soul fluctuations, no other reinforcements."
"Tch. Another bust today. Three nights of waiting, and the bastard doesn't even show his face."
After their first nest encounter—where no one got hurt and they didn't even approach closely—the mages hadn't needed the group's separate assistance. From then on, they'd simply hollowed out a cliff near the nest, hid inside, and waited for Palkatus to show.
"Heh heh heh. If that soul-hopping mutant is a commander-level one like you said, Professor, it's only natural it'd play it safe. No one's touched it before, so it favored on-site command, but after I thrashed it last time, it's bound to be more cautious about its own body."
"True... but if that fucker just holes up and commands from afar, we're truly screwed."
The Professor sighed while watching a chamber maid fire barrages of spines from elongated tentacles wrapped around hermit crabs. Its evolution was behind the times due to slow early resource buildup, but its intelligence had already reached near endgame levels.
NPCs didn't call named mutants "talking mutants" for nothing. Only the queen and her direct offspring had language-level intelligence.
'But from what I've seen, the mutants' overall intelligence growth is way too fast. Not just fast—unnaturally so.'
Chamber maids were instinct-driven units akin to living buildings, not capable of higher thought. Without the queen's orders, they couldn't even move on their own.
Yet the first hermit crab nest had calculated threat levels, deployed produced mutants, and attempted escape. The one before them now was extending its range using appendages since basic hermit crab range fell short—clear evidence of deliberate problem-solving.
Terrifying. They had a racial god in the queen, massive numbers, world-class abilities. And now their intelligence was skyrocketing too.
"...So I wanted to catch it this time no matter what—or at least cripple it enough to halt operations...."
It was a hastily conceived but confident plan, and having it fizzle out like this left a bitter taste.
The situation aside, there was solid reasoning.
==========
Professor's 3rd World Mutant Profiling - by the Hopeless Nerd Alliance.
1. Edeorna.
Known as the White Death, Queen's first spawn, White Stalker, etc.—the top-tier named and infamous gatekeeper of 3rd World clears. Unlike other nameds whose order varies by world, she always appears as the queen's eldest daughter.
Behavioral priorities: [Queen's orders > Survival > Eliminating archenemies > Hunting the strong].
A near-clone of the queen, capable of independent adaptation and evolution. Default form is a speed-based melee spearfighter; evolution paths vary wildly by world but typically tailor to counter the first foe that routed her or her archenemy. After slaying her archenemy, she hunts tributes for the queen, evolving further against new rivals upon defeat.
A Saiyan-like pain who grows stronger with every survival. The issue? Despite her power, she has an extremely self-preserving combat style.
No exact metrics, but she's known to prep for escape after taking ~60% max HP damage. Not even red-blooded—she bolts at yellow health. Escape speed is unmatched, impossible to catch. She then returns for revenge loaded with evolutions based on that loss.
Reason she's called the stalker bitch. Without direct queen orders, she hounds endlessly—truly without end. Once she marks an archenemy, you drop all quests and hole up in your castle; her obsession is that intense.
In Professor's current world, her archenemy is Charlotte de Agate. Footage shows Edeorna winning initially, but she lost to a suicide charge from Charlotte's ridiculously buffed knights. Possible evolutions: anti-army heavy armor/shield for mass battles or assassin-type for commander kills.
Aside from her obsessive bitchiness, her personality is serious and logical—almost knightly.
+ Repeated evolutions incorporate human strongmen's genetic material, gradually humanizing her appearance. Devoured heroes mean S+++ looks. Some users claim the initial dog-head form was peak, though. Furries gonna furry, apocalypse or not.
2. ???
Post-Pellas nest battle, a black mage soul summoned via necromancy testified: 'Queen's third kin, Palkatus.' First is Edeorna, so this implies a second. No major activity since Turan battle; presumed created from Charlotte's genetic data.
Definite mass-battle heavy named. Plant Charlotte, harvest Charlotte, right? Rest unknown.
3. Palkatus.
Aka Morning Star Palkatus. Queen's third kin.
The epitome of 3rd World's 'player-based' nameds. Confirmed to heavily inherit player Professor's traits; fully possesses other mutants' bodies, exceeding base abilities—speculated as unique parasite + buff type. Took glass body, mana aptitude, mental fragility—not melee, that's for sure.
Pellas nest battle dialogue allows personality inference.
Keywords: inferiority complex, validation craving, resulting ego inflation. Also effort-driven, showy.
Classic 'talentless youngest of prestigious house.'
Queen scraped together souls to birth Edeorna and 8~6 rank mutants, all defeated at Turan—leaving the already starving queen even hungrier.
In such poverty, combat resource farming is key, but its parasite-possession kit is useless. Considering direct spawn loyalty to queen, this equals leeching off a starving old mother in a crumbling house as a 40-year-old unemployed bachelor. Meanwhile, older sibs thrive, just as the house starts rebuilding. Pure madness fuel. Mental fragility amps the emotional instability.
Likely rages at own incompetence; effort-type character seeking escape.
Behavioral priorities probably [Queen's orders > Self-proof > Survival > Command]. No encounter data, pure speculation.
Anyway, it maxed out its frail body. Post-nest, black mage soul testified it sparked infighting in untouched black mage groups for absorption; aggressive special unit use in other worlds also its doing.
Loser-era validation hunger turned it into an extreme on-site commander via possessions—haunting every field. Not just combat command: politics via hosts, incitement via cults, economic terror. Legendary loser named in GG history.
Notably calls player 'Father' with deep respect, even 'I'll serve you.' As Professor clone, felt kinship/expectation toward his legendary feats.
Reality: macho regenerating brute. Palkatus's real-time meltdown upon seeing Father's horrific truth? Crystal clear in player Professor's stream ('Great Mindless Professor' video link).
Overall, this world's organic, intelligent, multifaceted warfront screams Palkatus's creation. Assume it's involved in every major field, especially named or nest battles.
4. Subsequent must-appear nameds: Zignil, Termakian, Dox, Bazur—Termakian (melee rep) most likely for early resource farming given poverty....
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This arrived from Dana the day after nests came up.
My stream's popular enough for named discords to analyze it now.
Felt professionally done—especially on Palkatus, whom I'd spoken to directly.
The bastard's desperate to prove its worth. Queen birthed it amid famine; no wonder the personality disorder.
Current war status shows its impatience perfectly.
Maintain Lordric push to devour eastern 3 nations, solidify Blue Line [West (Empire + eastern remnants) vs East (mutants)]—but it scaled back Lordric, pre-deployed nests toward Empire: hyper-aggressive.
Knew it'd come. Dumped 3 queen-only nests here; prepped Border White (strongest nearby) via parasites.
I blew up its almost-ready Border White scheme, now smashing nests—its real-time field presence should've compelled a check.
Kaboom! Rumble!
"Screeeeeech—!"
Nest charring under endless high-altitude lightning. Past two days' high-mana barrages drained wind mages; they dragged in home-staying apprentices for 'beast-in-yard extermination' lessons.
Professor rose, spotting Gauwan vaguely and Astrad manipulating mana under his tutelage.
"Whew. Missed again. Who knows when I'll get to beat that damn son of mine. Let's pull out. Nests nearby done—prep hot air balloon. Borca, fetch our wagons from Wind Home Inn."
"Groooan—my back. Staying put rusted me solid.... Hot air balloon cost? Elves deduct our weight in trade goods; months sans income, won't comp us."
"Lucilla back home covered via middleman trade. Borca's kin, so comping the rest."
"Heh heh heh. Dog Lord, eh? Who'd think that clown title so handy."
"...They're not all there, so we tolerate. Almost purer than those calling our blood filthy."
Whoooosh—
Professor turned from the nest crumbling as life ebbed, shelving regrets. Fine—missed Palkatus, but smashed 3 nests. More time? Small nests grow medium, more parasites in Border White—could've sparked Empire east invasion. Success means mutant Empire beachhead; solid headache averted. Satisfied.
"Ugh—stiff. Dinner?"
"Like that a few days back. Daily high-alt flights; mages shake robes, cloud shrimp avalanche. My groundwater hauls greened streambed with corpse grass."
"Good. Suited my taste."
"Grab preservable pre-depart. Aldrich, know any?"
"Shrubs no, but cloud shrimp? Dried staples. Light, low-moisture airborne shrimp; wind mages stock dried goods."
Recalling those odd shrimp and green sauce, saliva pooled unwittingly.
"Hard labor and feast. Nice."
"Ladies say baths solid. Soak thoughtless, shed fatigue."
"Sounds good."
Migratory mages descended hunting stragglers; group withdrew slowly, anticipating feast.
Perfect post-quest peaceful backdrop.
Thud.
Lost in it? Sensed my body's warning late.
Nothing there, yet heart irregular.
Chest crawling with oily unease. Viscous emotion coursed veins, rousing for battle.
"Uh...."
"What? Ah, mages returning together? No need hide now, no-show."
"No, why this...."
Thud. Thud.
Ottman's words drowned. Amid accelerating heartbeat, Professor scanned wildly.
Charred maids.
Carved, charred nest.
Descending mages: Astrad beaming unlike usual blankness, old master.
Peaceful. Too peaceful—terrifying. Like missile whine nearing relaxed camp.
Something happened—noticed too late.
"Ah, Aldrich...."
"Speak."
"That ritual—still monitoring?"
"...Necromancy drains life prolonged; retracted post-nest collapse—"
Dash!
Before Aldrich finished, flung Ottman, bolted. Sunset-backed descending mages. Discussing spells, teacher-apprentice slow. No crisis on faces—till spotting desperate-charging Professor.
'Where? Where is it?'
Madly scanning, Professor closed eyes. Scalding blood rimmed vision. Mutant in sight? Can't escape. Not too late. Maybe....
'...Damn.'
Red. All red. Rocks, charred valleys, chasing group's basin.
Mutant red aura everywhere—yet pulses: three.
Three entities overwhelming Professor's senses.
Red center: under mages' feet. Hole blacker than black.
Burnt valley floor: tiny sky-pointing finger.
Craaaack—
"The ashes of flesh are the faithful's final prayer."
Dense fangs ringed hole. Eerie, chill voice oozed toward fingertip target.
Mages noticing stirred chaos. Professor saw dementia-mage's brows furrow, shoving apprentice.
"Praise be. Ye unbelievers."
Pale fingertip's glow: galactic beauty.
[Forced Liturgy]
No world-shaking quake, no ear-shattering noise. Just candle-snuff sigh.
*Huff*
Infernal breath rattled all eardrums.
As flustered mages raised some oldsters' glowing staves.
"Tus Guy was right. Truly... we meet again."
All-too-familiar, dreaded voice froze Professor.
Pale finger's earthworm-hole beside: another.
Step.
Ivory-white, feather-light tread.
"Edeorna....!"
"Hold. Joy of reunion understood, but prior engagement. Yur, clear them."
"....As you command."
Roll.
Edeorna's sky-pointing finger curled slow. Night-melt orb shrank to marble in grasp. Mages through black lens: galaxy-drowning bugs.
'Unbeliever, die.'
Crack!
Violet eyes reflected shattering nightsky—
Shattered night poured on raging winds.
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