Chapter 431
Chapter 431
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 431
Chapter Title: Opportunity for Revenge (3)
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The underground secret laboratory of the Rebel Army's 2nd Command.
Lacis did not reprimand Shirone and Plu for sacrificing two members of the Special Mobile Unit.
Her subordinates wanted to relieve Shirone of his position and restore the commander's honor, but their curiosity about the completed exploration of Babel was greater.
After isolating Shirone and Plu in their quarters, Lacis took another sample of their blood.
The official reason was the possibility of infection by an unidentified pathogen, but the real purpose was to secure a clone of the changed Shirone who had entered Babel.
'The Tomb of Angels. That was Babel? It really existed? I thought it was just a myth.'
Now that Shirone had emerged having confirmed Babel's existence, she had no choice but to believe it.
Furthermore, if the myths were true, she had a vague idea of what kind of spirit Shirone had discovered there.
'Probably the Ultima System. If Shirone has learned the language of the ancients, this is an incredible opportunity for me as well.'
Lacis walked over to a steel cage on one side of the lab.
A grotesque monster was slamming its head against the iron bars.
“Kik! Kiik!”
The biologists recording the monster's condition trembled each time the cage rattled with a thud.
Garas, the King of Propagation.
An extradimensional species with a reproductive instinct 100,000 times stronger than a human's, it was known to the Norr to be capable of interbreeding with as many as 1,027 different species.
Humans were no exception, and despite being a biologically all-male species, it perceived even males as targets for reproduction.
According to academic reports, the difference in success rate when Garas attempted to reproduce with a human female versus a human male was a mere two percent.
From tiny insects to giant monsters, Garas had no definitive form because it could mate with any species.
However, the organ known as the 'Protein Arch,' which manipulated amino acid sequences, and the rapid cell division that created reproductive organs were common traits.
Its average intelligence was known to be ten times that of a human, but because its only interest was in propagation, it had not established its own intellectual civilization.
The ultimate amusement of a developed intellect? Or a natural occurrence resulting from the unique environment they lived in?
The cause was unknown, but one thing was certain: Garas was a being that existed solely to reproduce, and its powerful ability to break down interspecies barriers made it a designated quarantine species belonging to the highest risk group in Purgatory.
“Commander, why on earth did you capture something like this? If it gets out, it'll be the end of the command. No, the entire area will become a Garas colony.”
“It's fine. We just need to manage it well. We can't produce a clone of Shirone without it, can we?”
She had succeeded in combining Shirone's genetic information with a Norr ovum, but subtle differences in the evolutionary process had prevented implantation, causing a major headache.
However, using the genetic affinity of Garas as a link would solve the problem completely.
The biologist replied with an uneasy expression.
“Then… we’ll begin today.”
“No. Clone Plu first.”
“What? Why… Don't tell me.”
The biologist's face turned pale.
The combination of Shirone, Plu, and Garas could certainly produce clones at an explosive rate.
But no matter how many forbidden lines he had crossed as a scholar, this time he couldn't help but feel a pang of conscience.
He was human, after all.
Made of flesh and blood, one who despised pain and death.
'Is this woman really in her right mind?'
That was all the biologist wanted to know.
“Commander, is it really necessary to go this far?”
“This is wartime. We have no choice but to accept small sacrifices for victory. You’re helping me because you’ve already steeled yourself for that, haven’t you?”
“But this is…”
Lacis cut him off.
“There isn't much time. Not if the Babel Shirone explored is the same one I know of.”
“Why is that? I thought Babel was a weapon created by the ancient Gaians to attack Heaven.”
“That's true, but.”
Lacis closed her mouth.
There was no need to cause a commotion in the command by speaking too soon.
The one who sealed Babel back then was the Archangel Kariel.
* * *
Niflheim.
The world of the dead, where everything was frozen.
What unfolded before Gaold's party was a vast sheet of ice, and beyond it, a range of frozen mountains encircling the horizon.
A world so brutal that an ordinary creature would freeze solid long before encountering anything else.
Had Zulu not summoned a Tier 2 monster, a Salamander, to raise the surrounding temperature, their fate would have been the same.
After all, this was the place where the 'Wall of Eternally Unmelting Ice' that imprisoned the body of Ymir, the king of giants, was located.
The three-meter-long Salamander lay flat on the ground, radiating heat from its entire body.
Even so, the ice didn't melt, not even enough to become wet. In fact, the Salamander itself felt the chill and began to shiver.
Each time its flames weakened, the Salamander's true lizard-like form, a sight normally never seen, was revealed.
Gaold asked, his breath forming frost.
“How many is that?”
Kangnan checked his pouch.
“Twenty-four.”
“I see.”
The collection of Black Elixirs was slower than expected.
Krude, the 1st Commander of the Rebel Army, had said it was a fifty-percent chance, but the actual probability of getting an elixir from a captured evil spirit seemed to be less than twenty percent.
Of course, that was still an incredibly high rate, and with twenty-four elixirs, there was nothing they couldn't buy on the mainland.
But it was a meager result for such an ordeal, and they had lost a considerable amount of stamina in exchange.
'It's cold.'
Kangnan exhaled a long cloud of frost.
Wandering through Niflheim for six days was an act of madness for a human.
Zulu, too, had not slept, having maintained the Salamander for six straight days without a moment's rest.
Kangnan’s gaze turned to Gaold’s broad back.
How cold must he be?
If Kangnan was cold, Gaold was a thousand times colder.
If Kangnan groaned from frostbite that numbed his fingertips, Gaold was in a thousand times more pain.
'How can he not even show it? How is he enduring that?'
“At this rate, we'll be the first to tire.”
Gaold looked back at their guide.
He was a Norr with rat-like features and a scar on his face.
The reason he could navigate Niflheim was because he had spent his entire fortune to form a contract with an ice spirit.
But no matter how valuable a spirit was, Purgatory was a place where you couldn't even break even if your magic skills were lacking.
Ultimately, the only job he could find to make a living was that of a guide in Niflheim, a profession that invited a high probability of death.
As he was risking his life, his conditions were demanding.
He would never participate in combat, but he required fifty percent of anything harvested here.
Gaold would never have agreed to such an unfair contract, but after their first hunt in Niflheim, when he realized the chances of getting a Black Elixir were lower than expected, he had a change of heart.
Niflheim was an immense place, and encounters with evil spirits were surprisingly infrequent.
If they kept wandering like this, they would collapse from exhaustion or freeze to death before collecting the desired amount.
He judged it would be better to enter 'Hel,' where the ruler of Niflheim was said to reside, and hit the jackpot.
“How much farther? To this Hel place, or whatever it's called.”
“Ah, just a little more this way…”
The guide, who had been pointing ahead, finally decided he couldn't take it anymore, squeezed his eyes shut, and shouted.
“No! I can't go any farther! Let's just go back!”
He was completely fed up with Gaold's party.
It was a land of death that no one else approached, but there were rare madmen who entered seeking a fortune.
The guide himself had explored Niflheim six times with such people.
It was about once every two years, but finding just one Black Elixir made it a profitable venture. Two meant he could afford to do nothing for another two years.
Of course, before meeting Gaold's party, he had only ever managed to kill wraiths on the outskirts of Niflheim, praying for a Black Elixir to drop.
But the people he was guiding now were different.
From the very beginning, they hadn't even glanced at the outskirts, instead running straight toward Hel for six days, catching nearly two hundred Grim Reapers along the way.
The Grim Reaper, the strongest of evil spirits, rated Triple-S for hunting even on the mainland.
When he first saw the god of death swinging its massive scythe, seated on a five-meter-tall black steed, the guide couldn't help but wet himself.
Lured by the thrill of seeing precious Black Elixirs drop every so often, he had come this far, but honestly, he just wanted to go home now.
“Is that so? If you want to be done, by all means.”
Gaold readily agreed.
However, he added one condition.
“That is, if you want to break the contract and go alone.”
'Vicious bastard!'
The guide ground his teeth.
He had no choice but to endure, as he was no match for them in a fight, but a sense of injustice resonated deep in his bones.
With twelve Black Elixirs, he could live in luxury for the rest of his life.
No, he would marry a hundred beauties from the mainland. And he would have at least a thousand children.
It was a fantasy born of spite, but that was the kind of value twelve Black Elixirs held.
“Fine, let's see this through to the end! But my job is only to get you to Hel. I don't know the way from there!”
“Do as you please.”
Gaold turned and began walking across the ice again.
Though he was a mountain of a man to everyone else, his face, too, had grown gaunt.
Zulu stopped sucking on his pacifier and pointed forward.
“There's something there.”
The guide looked ahead, and his face lit up with elation. It was a pure expression of his professional calling.
'To think I'd live to see this place.'
The reason one could navigate Niflheim, a featureless zone devoid of any individuality, was because the corpses of outsiders who had invaded this place over the long ages served as markers.
As Gaold's party approached, they saw that well over a thousand creatures were frozen like statues.
They were from different eras and species, but all of them wore expressions of terror.
“Is this the entrance to Hel?”
“Hold on. This is my first time here, too. According to my research…”
The guide took out a notebook and checked his notes, turning his body so no one else could see.
Befitting the only Niflheim expert from the mainland, the notes were dense.
“Hmm, from the corpse of the Katesis species, frozen with one eye closed…”
Glancing left and right, the guide found a bipedal creature with a lizard's face and a long tail and approached it.
“The direction its left index finger is pointing.”
The guide’s face contorted as he checked the left hand.
'Damn it, it only has three fingers. Which one is the index finger?'
Guessing it was probably the middle one, the guide pointed about fifteen degrees from the direction they had come.
“Hel should be that way. Well then, around here, I'll just… Heek!”
The guide turned back to Gaold and fell on his rear with a look of shock.
A fearsome fighting spirit was emanating from the party.
“Tha-that's…!”
A thick mist was rising from the ice.
It was a familiar scene for all of them, but this time was different.
The form of a jet-black steed emerged from the ice, neighing in a tone higher than a woman's scream.
In the saddle sat a Grim Reaper shrouded in black smoke, holding the reins with a four-meter-long scythe slung over its shoulder.
There were a staggering forty of them.
It was the largest number they had faced in a single battle.
“Damn it! Damn it! To die with twelve Black Elixirs waiting for me!”
The guide shed tears with a look of despair, as if he had already given up on his life.
There was no one to comfort him.
Even Zulu thought this was on a completely different level than anything they had faced so far.
“I'm releasing the Salamander.”
With their stamina already significantly depleted, it would be overwhelming for Kangnan and Gaold to face them together.
But Gaold held even Kangnan back and advanced toward the horde of Grim Reapers alone.
“Wait here. You'll get caught up in it.”
“Are you crazy? What are you trying to do? And I'm not weak enough to get caught up in a fight!”
“I know. But…”
Gaold leaned over as if about to collapse and looked back at Kangnan.
“This time will be different.”
Sensing something, Kangnan's face hardened like stone.
Gaold's hair, starting from his forehead, was rapidly being bleached of its color.