Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Festival of Receiving Flesh
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"...The Church of the Goddess of War and Victory has brought out something incredible."
Even though it was my own words, it was an overly softened and polite expression.
Still, I figured the top church in the dungeon city wouldn't start something without proper countermeasures.
But realistically, there are limits to what anyone can imagine.
"A Floor Lord, huh."
I would've thought an elite monster popping out was impressive enough, but a Floor Lord was beyond anything I could've even conceived.
To begin with, if a Floor Lord-level monster had surfaced, there would've been rumors flying everywhere.
"Hm."
The Floor Lord that appeared in a burst of light at the arena's center.
The intrusion of Heavenly Army Tigran.
The Floor Lord, beaten into a slab of ribs in his hand, vanishing into light soon after.
And the dwarves and wizards preparing the opening ceremony.
I closed my eyes and began sorting through the jumbled mess of thoughts in my head, one by one.
Once I'd finished, I opened my eyes and stood from my seat.
"Wolfram."
Asad, who had been silently watching me, tilted his head.
I realized I'd abbreviated my explanation too much while lost in my own thoughts.
"Let's head to the northern workshop street. There's something I need to check out."
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"That's right. Our workshop was involved too."
Wolfram, the head craftsman of Clonter Workshop, nodded crisply at my question.
"To be precise, everyone with confidence in their skills on the northern street participated."
The God of Hammer and Anvil and the God of Roads and Horizons had stepped forward directly, it seemed.
And the craftsmen, alchemists, and wizards on the northern workshop street mostly worshipped those two gods.
"Thanks to the gods getting directly involved, they were all focused on this instead of Creatoris and Mirabilia."
Wolfram held out a single stone orb in front of us.
"An orb?"
"Yeah. Reverse-engineering the info stored in this orb to resurrect the monster it was made from."
"Is that even possible... well, that's a dumb question now."
I'd already confirmed it was possible from the Floor Lord that capped off the opening ceremony.
Wolfram stroked his thick beard as he spoke.
"The methodology for building a body suited to a soul has already seen plenty of research."
New body and resurrection.
I quickly caught on to what method Wolfram meant.
"Receiving Flesh."
"You got it. Well, even so, there's a huge gap between a god's soul and the scraps left by some puny beast after death. Total opposites. If a god's soul is too mighty for the body to handle, this side was rebuilding a flimsy foundation from fire-charred ashes. Soul too weak to sustain the body, you could say? End result: not very practical for the effort. Fun, though."
Wolfram shrugged.
"Maybe usable now as a festival toy."
"Pretty vicious toy for that."
"Still made an impression, didn't it?"
"If you're unfazed by that, you're no small fry."
Wolfram cackled at my words.
"How does a resurrected monster stack up to the original?"
"Depends on the orb's condition and body material quality, but anywhere from half to about ninety percent."
"Can you tell me specifics on certain monsters?"
"Don't slyly fish for client info. What kind of craftsman blabs that? You sneaky wench."
"Tendencies for Floor Lords or elites?"
"If you're gonna pry that openly, don't you think you should ease up?"
Wolfram narrowed his eyes and glared, so I shrugged in reply.
"No Catabasis details. But I'll demo the technique roughly. These leftovers are processed anyway—hard to reuse."
Wolfram waddled on his short legs, fished an orb from a basket full of them, and chucked it aside.
Then he placed a hand on the crystal globe next to the basket.
"Grak-?"
Light burst from the tossed orb, and a goblin popped out right there.
A goblin orb, huh.
Rarer than a Floor Lord orb in some ways.
Weaklings like goblins almost never survive long enough to form one inside them.
"Check it out."
"Kek-!"
The moment permission dropped, I lunged, grabbed its neck, and hoisted it up.
"Ka-! Kaak-! Kak-!"
Choked and dangling in midair, the goblin clawed at my arm and thrashed with a agonized face.
Honestly... no clue if this goblin's weaker or stronger than average.
They're basic enough that even newbie crawlers can handle them without getting careless.
"Can't get a read."
Crunch-
The goblin's neck snapped, and it went limp.
Fully lifeless, about ten seconds passed?
Like the Floor Lord from the opening ceremony, it dissolved into light and vanished, leaving just the orb behind.
I reached for the fallen orb, but it crumbled like ash the instant my fingers brushed it.
"Got any others?"
"Help yourself. Junk now anyway."
With Wolfram's go-ahead, I resurrected monsters from the remaining orbs and ran tests.
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Kee-yeek-
The spirit vanished with a death wail, not even leaving a form behind.
No orb this time either—it just scattered.
"Think I get it now."
"If you fussed that much, you better."
As I unclasped my hands from prayer position, Wolfram gruffed back.
He seemed pissed at me hijacking his lab for so long, but I focused on piecing together what I'd just experienced.
'So...'
This is it.
Those simulations you see all the time in academy stories.
If you prototyped that in a primitive form, it'd feel just like this, right?
Someday, if this world advances, higher education institutions pop up, and tech evolves, it might really turn out that way.
But for now, way too crude for actual education.
For good reason.
"...It persists indefinitely unless the orb expires or its traits cut life short."
"Right."
"Instinct-driven till death in the meantime."
"Right."
"No failsafe like reverse summon if critically wounded?"
"That nonsense? Take at least a century."
"Mid-fight, things go south, intervention lags..."
"You die, obviously?"
Wolfram eyed me like I'd asked the obvious.
His nonchalance had me rubbing my forehead.
Oh, this brutal, romance-packed savage medieval land where the weak don't survive.
Safety really just coward bait, huh.
Looks like it'll take ages before academy tropes take root here.
"All done?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Wolfram."
"No need."
Wolfram extended his hand after saying that.
I clasped it in turn.
"? What?"
"Handshake?"
"As if. What's pretty about you?"
Who knows dwarf standards, but by human ones, her looks qualified as beauty.
Wolfram shook off my hand and formed a circle with his left thumb and index finger.
"Pay up. Coin. Used some."
"...Didn't you call it non-recyclable junk?"
"Junk if shoved in my room."
"I cleaned your filthy space—no thanks needed."
"Nuts?"
"......How much?"
"Hm. Cleared my hassle... three gold'll do."
"Scam."
"What."
"No profit at three gold."
"Not my problem? Catabasis prize that low?"
I glared down at the scamming runt, who snorted right back up at me.
Staring contest dragged on.
"One gold. In exchange, I'll detail Keseff Heyrel usage these past months as the rest."
"...Thirty silver."
"Not a rookie anymore—should know haggling dwarves gets you nowhere. Or settle for the staff? Whatever."
"......"
Tch.
Gritted my teeth in rage, but leverage was his.
Trembling, I fished out a single gold coin and handed it over.
Wolfram smirked at the sight, snatched the coin, then jerked his chin toward the table.
"Spill it. If interesting, I'll tune it up too."
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Wooo—! Coward!!!
Jeers filtered through the passage as we waited for our turn.
"Another team forfeited, huh. Gonna be hard showing their faces now."
"......"
Asad gave a small nod at my words.
Still flat affect—tough to read his thoughts.
But no fear showing despite casualties and forfeits up front meant plenty.
'That'll do.'
"Participant 13, please enter the arena."
At the announcer's call, I turned to Asad.
"You got a rough idea of my skills, right?"
"......"
"Good. Let's go."
I took point, Asad following.
"Waaaaa—!"
"Rusted Silver! Rusted Silver!"
"Buncha cowards! Entertain us at least!"
"Kill 'em—!"
Thunderous cheers erupted as we emerged like gladiators from the colosseum's long tunnel into the arena's heart.
Notoriety earning me roars I'd never dream of otherwise.
Kill 'em? Not hearing die wrong, am I?
'You're dead just for that look.'
Ignoring the squawkers, we headed to the center with Asad.
An orb radiating fierce energy sat smack in the middle.
Probably our foe's orb.
The one the previous team would've faced sans forfeit.
'Hope it's an easy one.'
Monster matchups random—no telling what'd spawn.
But from the opening Floor Lord to the beast that pulped low-floor crawlers, best assume Floor Lord tier.
I drew Keseff Heyrel to go full throttle from the start.
With a 40th-floor vanguard here, plenty margin against most.
'Forfeit if it gets dicey.'
If too hairy or risky, I'd bail without a backward glance.
Crawler macho honor scorning cowards?
Didn't apply to me—long since fucked off and vanished.
Staff eyes flicked to the VIP seats.
The VIP met my gaze, eyes brimming with intrigue.
"I expect a valiant showing."
-Hng
The goddess raised her right arm to signal the match, and the central orb began glowing, taking form.
"Ha."
I let out a dry laugh staring at the figure rising at the arena's core.
"...Good luck or bad?"