Chapter Fifty-Two: The Newly Born Offspring

What was that just now?

The faint tremors of the earth carried a distant sound. The young man cast his gaze toward the end of the darkness, but all he could see was emptiness—an endless mine tunnel that seemed to lead to the world's end.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" The Radiant One struggled to find words for that fleeting sensation—a murky malice, as if all the world's hatred for humanity had coalesced, surging like a tidal wave, like a mountain collapsing, suffusing the entire underground realm. Within the Ildan Mine, the hostility toward humankind was unmistakable. "Deep within... it seems some tremendous monstrosity has awakened from the chaos."

"Yes," the girl bit her lip, her emerald eyes rarely betraying a ripple of emotion. "It's the domain of a high demon. We've stepped into its kingdom."

"Domain?" Amy arched his brow, but did not question the swordswoman's words. Though it was nearly unthinkable for a high demon to appear in its true form within the lands of Order, the sheer oppressive force he sensed left no room for doubt—this was no ordinary demon. Only such a possibility, the worst of all, could explain it. "An apt description. Still... just the two of us, challenging a high demon entrenched in Ildan, seems an impossible feat."

"It's not impossible." The blonde, blue-eyed swordswoman gazed into the darkness, then drew her sword. "It's not in full strength, and it cannot yet adapt to the power of the Fireseed. This is our opportunity."

"Our combat strength is insufficient to defeat it," Amy shook his head. High demons were no longer the same species as lesser fiends. Having transcended the boundaries of life itself, they possessed unique abilities akin to the Radiant Ones. The strongest could even wield more than five distinct powers. "To face such a creature, only the Chosen or the Grand Swordsmen of your order would stand a chance."

The swordswoman looked at him for three heartbeats, then shook her head. "You're mistaken."

"Mistaken?" Amy frowned.

"Yes." The girl began calmly, "High demons are not invincible. Though they possess multiple abilities, they cannot wield more than one at a time. Moreover, they lack true intellect and the wisdom for proper combat. In short, a group of swordsmen could feasibly hunt them down."

"But only feasibly." The youth sighed. He would not yield. Accompanying the swordswoman into the lair of the Dark Guild was the utmost he could offer. To risk his life against a high demon was something he could not accept. "We are at a decisive disadvantage. We should report our findings and let the Grand Swordsmen handle the purge."

"Impossible." The silver cross greatsword cleaved the ground before the Radiant One, sending up a spray of shattered stone. "The war with the Cult of Chaos has already begun. The Order cannot spare its strength for something like this. The only ones who can resolve this are me—or us."

The swordswoman strode forward without further persuasion.

"As stubborn as ever," Amy chuckled at the girl's departing figure, then his smile faded and his brows rose. "Now is not the time for hesitation. Since there's no path ahead, we must forge one ourselves. After all, the blood of the Ancients still runs in my veins!"

Whether it was because aid from the Order was now beyond hope, or simply from a reluctance to fall behind, or perhaps out of a desire not to betray the weighty trust placed in him, the youth, after a moment's hesitation, turned and followed into the devouring darkness deeper within the mine.

The tunnel was unexpectedly broad and long, the suffocating darkness pressing down until it was nearly unbearable.

Yet, contrary to expectation, the Radiant One's heart found an inexplicable calm. Upon reflection, this was the first time he faced a mortal crisis not out of reckless fervor, and the first time he acted against reason. Whether the courage this reflected was a sign of growth or regression, he could not say even now.

Perhaps it did not matter at all.

What mattered was that he had finally stepped out from the shadow of his own abilities.

Death—

It is humanity's eternal theme. Since time immemorial, from sages and philosophers to common folk, all have felt an instinctive dread of it. Why should Amy Ulysses be any different? In fact, under the influence of his own death omen, he drew nearer to, understood better, and feared more than anyone else the inevitable fate of death. Because of this, the omen of death, like a snail shell upon his back, both shielded him from danger and hindered his growth. But now, at last, he could shed that shell, relying on his own will and strength to advance toward his goal.

Undoubtedly, this was a good thing.

But there was no time for joy, as the shadow of death clung close.

He would die—he would be killed.

As the tunnel suddenly opened out and his field of vision expanded, a primal instinct screamed for him to flee. A chill from his very bones spread through every limb, his scalp tingling, and he was certain death would claim him in the very next instant.

"Something's wrong." He was not alone in this feeling. The swordswoman also sensed something amiss, lifting her brows and coming to a halt. "It's too quiet here."

Quiet? Amy glanced around. Though the flame-inscribed amulet he wore did not offer enough light to illuminate everything, it was enough to see his immediate surroundings. To his surprise, not only were there no beasts or insects, but not even the notorious iron-thistle, which could survive any harsh environment, was present. Only a pale expanse of barren earth and gravel—a desert devoid of life.

"It's more than just odd." The Radiant One knelt, rubbing the gravel between his fingers. "Looks like our luck isn't bad. We've found the master itself."

"The master?" the girl echoed, a trace of doubt in her voice. But in the next heartbeat, her silver cross greatsword was already drawn.

Without a word, without giving him a chance to react, the swordlight as bright as moonlight engulfed him, hot blood splashing across his body.

It was—

Only then did the youth react, spinning around as his dagger drew forth a surge of dark blood, coming face-to-face with a tide of crimson eyes!

"When!?"

For both him and the swordswoman of the Order, the underground monsters, no matter their numbers, were of limited threat. But for these creatures to creep up on him in utter silence proved they were not like the ones before. At least... in their eyes, he could read something beyond slaughter and hunger—he saw pure, unmitigated hatred.

The girl had never been one for words in battle. For her, destroying demons was a reflex. At the first sign of them, she wasted not a moment—sword drawn, she plunged into their midst like a wolf among sheep, slaughtering without hesitation or thought.

Amy’s question would go unanswered, but now was not the time for answers.

There was no time to be distracted, no energy to ponder trivialities. The monsters knew nothing of chivalry or fair play. They howled and shrieked, swinging massive, terrifying limbs and snapping slavering jaws, closing in on him from all directions.

Nowhere to run!

But—why run?

He only needed to fight—to kill!

The young Radiant One crouched like a leopard. Though he had little true combat experience, by drawing on the latent instincts within, he could now wield his every ounce of strength like a veteran, making full use of his almost cheating sixth sense. If these were the same underground monsters as before, he would have expected a massacre.

But, as he had feared, these creatures—these things—had grown smarter.

Their clumsy movements became agile, their chaotic attacks turned into a coordinated hunt. The more they fought, the clearer their evolution became, the more suffocating the atmosphere grew—they were learning, they were evolving!

Even when he slew one, the rest seemed to gain experience from its death. Amy suspected there was some invisible psychic network binding their minds together, sharing senses and memories, forming a collective intelligence like that of ants or bees.

Who would have thought such creatures lurked beneath Hemtica...

They possessed an innate hatred for the living, yet also intelligence. It was as if the worst aspects of humanity and demonhood had been stripped out and fused together to create a new race.

Remarkable.

And yet—as a human, he could not allow them to exist!

Pitiless, the youth pressed himself ever harder in battle, hoping to awaken the dormant combat instinct within him. But perhaps because he now had someone to rely on, or because the power within him had been spent in that earlier burst, even as the monsters learned and evolved, amplifying the pressure far beyond what he had faced before, he could not recapture that earlier state. All he could do was hack his way forward, blade by blade.

Things were grim.

From every perspective, the battle was overwhelmingly against them. In this lair, the monsters seemed endless. The longer the fight dragged on, the more closely they coordinated, the greater the pressure became. Though the Radiant One and the swordswoman possessed extraordinary physique, even they had their limits. As time passed and exhaustion mounted, they would eventually falter.

When that happened, even his death omen would not save him.

He had to come up with something—anything!

Anxiety gnawed at Amy, but he would not rely on the swordswoman to conjure some miracle. More than any external hope, he trusted himself.

But before he could gather his thoughts, in an instant—the world was overturned.

The world—

Was drowned in utter, hopeless black.

"What... is that?" For a fleeting moment, the light vanished from the youth’s eyes. In a voice barely above a dream, he whispered, "What kind of monster are you—"