Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 801 - You will be mine

The vessel currently drifts upon the water, tilted severely to its side. A number of feylith are occupied, employing their skills to regenerate the wooden hull, while others diligently reinforce the new growth to seamlessly match the existing structure.

A lone man approaches Lily, executing a profound bow. He requests her presence to tend to several injured individuals, as the captain has specifically summoned her. With no grounds for refusal, she complies, accompanied by Maya. Min-Jae, meanwhile, departs as well, tasked with assisting the mechanism responsible for the ship's propulsion.

I observe Sophie chiding Blackie as she relocates him to a secure spot, preventing any accidental collisions. My gaze then drifts back to the entrance of our protected chamber, where the fractured egg resides. It stands to reason that its durability would be exceptionally high, or perhaps it was uniquely altered for the floor quest, yet it still managed to crack.

It is possible that the damage occurred due to the absorption of diluted wyvern essence from fragments we possessed. Alternatively, it might have reacted adversely to exposure to elements from a different floor. These possibilities remain unknown.

The most frustrating aspect is the absence of a new floor quest, and the previous timer has vanished. The Rulers, beings capable of enduring tens of thousands of years, might not feel any urgency to present us with a new challenge. Frankly, who can ascertain the intricacies of their machinations?

Meanwhile, a ghastly Bambi Apostle, that reanimated, unsettling weredeer which even the gentle Izzy harbored an immediate desire to eliminate, lurks somewhere in the vicinity.

And what is the true nature of this situation? Did this accursed weredeer reanimate, only for its first imprinted thought to be the consumption of random furred fingers found scattered in the mud, subsequently initiating conflicts with nearly every member of the local Absolute’s harem?

This is our doing, is it not? We carelessly left the carcass of a deer near discarded fingers, and then positioned the egg close to fragments of a synthetic wyvern. Some individuals simply fail to learn from their experiences.

I compel myself to suppress my rising anger and instead peer through the aperture in our cabin. The sky is a brilliant azure, devoid of even a solitary cloud. The sun bestows its gentle radiance, and all around us, the waves undulate ceaselessly, carrying a mild zephyr and the briny scent of the sea. The circumstances are not entirely unfavorable.

Shortly, my view through the opening is obstructed by the silhouette of a feylith woman, who halts in momentary surprise upon finding me seated in a manablock chair directly before the void. She emits a soft chuckle and offers a wave, her hair and eyes shifting to a deep indigo hue.

I reciprocate the gesture, and she commences her skilled work, causing the fractured wooden fragments to gradually expand, eventually obscuring my vision. Tess, rather than entering, remains outside to maintain a vigilant watch.

Before the hull is entirely mended, the feylith woman glances in once more with a pleasant expression. "My apologies for obscuring your view."

"It is quite alright," I respond, and then the opening is sealed.

I sense further activity as individuals commence reinforcing the repaired section. Standing, I cause my chair to dematerialize. Adjusting my spectacles and straightening my rather drab gray suit adorned with a yellow tie, I proceed to the shielded chamber and peer within.

The egg remains unchanged, exhibiting no discernible alterations. Biscuit continues his vigil nearby, his chin resting upon his forepaws, his gaze fixed intently upon it. He fulfills his duty with utmost seriousness, not deviating his attention even as I enter. To express my gratitude, I offer him a few affectionate pats. While he begins to wag his stubby tail, I gently close the door once more.

Subtle tremors are already vibrating through the ship, indicating an imminent departure. This is largely confirmed when I exit the cabin and ascend to the main deck. Figures are in motion, though sparsely distributed, suggesting most occupants are confined to their quarters.

"Sir, I must request that you return to your-" a crew member attempts to interject.

Before he can complete his sentence, I raise my hand and simply state, "I am with the healer."

He appears perplexed, uncertain how to proceed, but ultimately decides against further insistence, deeming it too troublesome, and leaves me unhindered. I then make my way towards Tess, who is leaning against the ship's railing, her solitary eye fixed upon the eastern horizon.

"Now that I consider it-" I commence.

Before I can finish my statement, she raises her hand and declares succinctly, "Yes, yes, I am aware. The eyepatch. I bear the resemblance of a pirate. Aboard a vessel, traversing the oceanic expanse."

Her remark elicits amusement, and I join her, directing my gaze in the same direction. "Indeed, precisely that."

I am uncertain of the extent of her visual perception, but as I briefly lower my glasses, I can discern the anomalous currents of ambient mana manifesting there. All spectral frequencies are converging in fractured pathways across the sky.

"Incidentally, your aura is becoming increasingly unsettling," Tess observes, her gaze remaining fixed eastward.

"In what manner?" I inquire.

“Your mana is almost imperceptible. I understand you’ve been employing Sneaky Mode frequently and circulating it internally to suppress it, but there were always slight emanations that I could detect or that others might notice. Now, however, it has nearly vanished. A mere glance suggests you are an ordinary human devoid of any mana. Only your Ignition Heart or moments of kinetic energy generation might possibly give you away.”

“Huh,” I respond, pausing to consider before speaking. “The most plausible explanation I can conceive is my blood. It absorbs my mana and solidifies it, so it’s likely drawing in the residual amounts that escape my Mana Cycling and preventing their outward seepage.”

“You would be the better judge of that. The Captain has declared our course will remain at sea, and we will cease aerial navigation. He surmises the weredeer might attack indiscriminately, and he hopes the planet’s curvature will conceal us.”

“I ponder if we might find greater safety by departing immediately and establishing a subterranean refuge.”

“It’s always tunnels with you, isn’t it?” Tess remarks with a chuckle. “I believe we should remain. The Captain is competent, and from the crew members I’ve managed to influence, I gathered he was once part of a unit specializing in tracking and occasionally engaging Champion-grade entities. Furthermore, he possesses knowledge of this planet’s formations and geological structures, which he can leverage to our advantage. Should the situation become dire, we have options to depart or have Sophie assume command.”

“Let us proceed with your suggestion then,” I concur, casting another glance westward. “It does create an unsettling atmosphere, doesn’t it?”

Tess nods in agreement. “More than you realize.”

Our vessel moves with a grace akin to gliding rather than sailing, its hull making minimal contact with the water. The captain steers a seemingly direct course, putting distance between us and the weredeer’s presumed location. Throughout this journey, I detect a consistent series of connections anchored to one of the ship’s masts.

It’s conceivable that the weredeer could trace some of these connections if it possessed sufficient intelligence or inclination, presenting a clear risk. However, simultaneously, we seem to be receiving vital information that aids in our preparedness, suggesting it might be a worthwhile exchange.

No other Champions have dared to confront that formidable beast, despite six of them remaining on this celestial body. An additional two are with the Princess. It’s likely these individuals have assessed the peril and considered a few scenarios:

Perhaps the weredeer’s might is so overwhelming that the combined might of the six would be insufficient.

And possibly, the remaining entities are not primarily combat-focused, while the three who perished served as the initial line of confrontation.

They might be capable of vanquishing the weredeer, but at the cost of most of their lives.

Or, it’s plausible that the Princess issued a directive for them to stand down.

The latter possibility strikes me as the most probable, as approximately half a day later, a subtle yet unmistakable shift occurs, and the planet itself begins to exude a different aura.

Dormant arrays gradually awaken, one after another, their luminescence now visible in the sky, unimpeded by any clouds. The western horizon deepens into a resplendent dawn, almost breathtakingly beautiful, and a delicate floral fragrance permeates the air. Even the colours intensify, as if the world has quietly amplified its vibrancy.

Then, a voice of remarkable beauty resonates across the entire planet. “Have you been lonely without me?” The tone is soft, devoid of any discernible amusement, yet it carries a gentle quality. “My heart aches for the hardships you have endured during my absence. But you can finally exhale. I have returned.”

In numerous locations across the sky, the array generates what appears to be a holographic display, projecting itself towards every significant gathering of people on the planet.

Upon the screen stands a Feylith woman of extraordinary allure. Her wings surpass any I have previously witnessed on her kind, their white feathers unfurled in a manner that captures the light. She bears a striking resemblance to an angel as she advances, with the distant dawn behind her, silhouetting the sun as it nears the horizon.

Her attire evokes images of a Greek goddess from ancient classical representations. Her physique is powerful, and every movement accentuates this strength. Yet, this does nothing to detract from her undeniably feminine grace.

The Princess offers a gentle smile to all observers.

She turns, and with a single step, the perspective shifts around her, her movement blurring as she traverses hundreds of miles alone towards the west and the encroaching dawn.

“I returned as swiftly as circumstances allowed,” she proclaims, executing another step that blurs the surrounding environment.

As she halts once more, her wings unfurl slightly. Her hair, eyes, and wings all transition to a radiant gold, and her presence intensifies significantly as she takes a final step, her bare feet touching the ground near the forest.

“You no longer need to harbor fear,” the Princess utters softly.

With every stride she made, verdant growth sprung forth, and the very earth seemed to thrum with latent energy beneath her steps. The ground undulated as if the soil itself yearned to embrace her touch. Colossal, ancient trees creaked and swayed, their branches intertwining to form a living, breathing canopy high above her.

The wind ceased its bluster, replaced by a gentle, rhythmic current that synchronized perfectly with her exhalations. Blossoms of impossible beauty erupted from the earth in a riot of color, blooming and withering in mere seconds to form a vibrant carpet along her path. Every creature, from the tiniest insect to the most formidable predator, froze in a silent, captivated trance, turning their gazes to follow her, united in a peculiar, unthinking adoration.

It was as if she occupied the very core of existence.

The Princess arrived at a secluded glade, where, in its center, another entity lay, either at rest or in slumber.

There, the Reanimated Dusk Weredeer slowly got to its feet. Its coat was a deep, starless black, and its immense antlers towered over the Princess, making it twice her height. It appeared gaunt yet menacing. Its body was marred by numerous unhealed wounds as it stood there, hunched and listless, its forelegs grotesquely transformed into elongated limbs tipped with sharp claws.

Its entire lower jaw was missing. It presented a horrifying spectacle, as if the deer encountered on the ninth floor had somehow stretched its impossibly long mouth – a mouth that had traversed its entire neck – and then had the bottom portion brutally ripped away. The upper teeth remained starkly visible, but an abyssal void gaped where the rest should have been, the incessant bleeding seemingly defying any attempt at cessation.

Finally, four furred digits protruded unnaturally. Each extended from a different part of the weredeer's head. One burrowed into the empty socket of its right eye. Another revealed only its tip near the left temple, the majority of it still concealed within the skull. The final two emerged side-by-side, growing directly from its forehead.

Yet, the monstrous beast made no move to attack; it simply remained there, swaying gently from side to side.

"Oh, you poor, precious thing... Are you hurting too, my sweet baby?" the Princess inquired, moving closer with an air of urgency. She extended a hand, gently stroking the weredeer’s shoulders, unconcerned by the crimson ichor that now stained her pristine skin.

The weredeer remained immobile, stooped over the diminutive figure before it.

"You must be in an immense amount of pain. Is that why you've been so restless? Is that why you've behaved so dreadfully?" As the Princess continued her ministrations, the weredeer lowered its head, allowing her touch to reach its cheek. More blood sullied her hand, some of it trickling down onto her face and pristine white attire.

My gaze remained transfixed upon the unfolding spectacle, as if I too were ensnared by the Princess’s commanding presence, witnessing the ethereal woman and the feral beast bathed in the dying embers of twilight.

"You are utterly magnificent... and brimming with power. You shall be an exceptional successor to my cherished Champions. You will belong to me."

The final vestiges of the sun dipped below the horizon, and the soft, golden light receded, dramatically altering the palpable atmosphere.

"You will belong to me," the Princess reiterated, her voice imbued with a newfound resolve.

The weredeer bent lower still, and one of its transformed hands lifted, tentatively brushing against the Princess’s cheek, mirroring her earlier gesture.

"You will belong to me," the feylith woman repeated, her tone now considerably more resolute.

The weredeer’s other hand moved, settling on the opposite side of her head, gently caressing her other cheek.

"YOU VILE CREATURE, I SAID-"

Her words were abruptly silenced as the weredeer yanked with all its might, instantly severing her head from her shoulders, the spinal column still attached. In the fleeting moments before the celestial screen vanished, I witnessed the beast crush the severed head with a sickening pop.