Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 804 - Two Wyverns

POV The Cerulean Parlor

Around three dozen Handlers are gathered in a comfortable-looking lounge, complete with a large fireplace and a floor adorned with thick fur pelts.

This occasion presents a rare chance for them to observe the events unfolding within the tutorial directly, bypassing the usual protocols that necessitate clandestine methods or delayed records. Now, they can witness it unfold in real-time, all thanks to the presence and shared viewing platform of the Ruler of Lust.

“Princess, I too found that creature’s actions towards you to be quite distressing. By the way, is that a new hairstyle? It looks wonderful,” remarks a woman whose lower body transitions into that of a spider, including its own distinct head. Her voice is laced with a pleasant tone and an unusual allure.

The Ruler of Lust returns her smile. Her hair, eyes, and wings are all a deep black, and she is attired in a crimson, sleeveless dress.

“Thank you, my dear. Indeed, I had my hair trimmed just a few days ago. It’s quite the fashion on my homeworld,” she says, leaning back into a specially designed chair that accommodates her large wings, crossing her legs. “And yes, it is regrettable, but I am aware of how adorable and vulnerable I once was before the arrival of my cherished child. Much has changed since then.”

“Perhaps the weredeer possessed more strength than it should have, wouldn't you agree? The previous floor they navigated had a greater difficulty rating with fewer constraints compared to yours,” the spider-like woman continues, her tone polite and calming.

The Ruler of Lust appears to appreciate this perspective and nods in agreement. “That must be the reason, although we are all aware of the formidable power inherent in that brute’s bloodline. But who can say, perhaps one day he will be mine as well,” she laughs.

This elicits a chuckle from the Ruler of Kindness nearby, prompting the Princess to simply furrow her brow and choose to disregard the comment.

On the display, they observe the hatching of the baby wyvern. It releases a cry that resonates across the planet before ascending to confront the assembled opposition. There is a striking lack of hesitation in the newly hatched creature. Wyverns are inherently predisposed this way, always looking down upon all other life forms. The concept of discourse or establishing any form of mutually beneficial association simply doesn't occur to it. Instead, it launches an attack on impulse, bent on annihilation.

“I had almost forgotten how utterly charming he was as an infant,” the Princess sighs wistfully. “Now, I can no longer even hold him.”

She is about to continue speaking when a subtle stirring begins as the barrier falters against the white lightning. The blonde woman manages to deflect the remainder with her own power, though it results in her entire arm being scorched.

“Her lightning must possess remarkable purity to achieve such an effect,” one of the Handlers comments.

“It was only against a newborn wyvern; such a feat should not be considered overly impressive,” another Handlers muses doubtfully.

“I am aware, but she wields only Primordial lightning. It should not possess the capability to inflict such damage against it.”

“Silence, both of you. He is initiating–”

They watch intently as the domain expands on the screen. A man with an icy demeanor makes a move, his spiritual vessel mirroring his actions. His will directs all the ambient mana, which his vessel then channels. Dark orbs traverse the battlefield, constructing barriers to intercept the white lightning that the wyvern is rapidly mastering, unleashing it with intense bursts of white sparks.

The Ruler of Kindness, seated on the couch, gracefully slumps down until her head rests upon the lap of the individual beside her. Her golden tresses cascade over them like a shimmering veil as she gazes upward.

“What are your thoughts on your ward?” she inquires. “How does he measure up against the Ruler of Greed, who is reputed to be the most formidable combat mage since the era of Lissandra Hawthorne?”

The Ruler of Greed averts her gaze from the screen, the other Handlers, and even the assembled Rulers. Her focus remains solely on her companion. “He is still insufficient.”

“I believe you are being disingenuous.”

“You are entitled to that opinion. And what is your assessment of him?” After a brief pause of only a second, she adds, “Lady Kindness?”

“I find him quite likable. He ought to leverage his dark mana more extensively, allowing it to permeate his being, transforming him into a terrifying entity. Perhaps one rivaling the might of the Empyrean Thaumarch of old. Did you happen to hear Pride’s declaration that the Thaumarch was the most formidable individual he had ever encountered?”

“Was that statement made prior to or subsequent to his confrontation with Lissandra Hawthorne?”

“It has been a considerable time since I last conversed with him, so it is difficult to say. Lissandra might perhaps hold a higher place in his estimation now.” Kindness laughs with a playful air and turns her head to observe the unfolding events on the screen, then addresses all those present in the room. “I have noticed that few among you have commented on that young man’s rather endearing peculiar bond.”

This time, it is the Princess who interjects. “I concur that his association is intriguing, and while his Pantophagic primordial energy is undoubtedly potent, what tangible capabilities does he possess in this context?”

“Princess, is that not the same form of primordial energy possessed by a certain clan of wolves?” one of the Handlers inquires.

A smile graced the Ruler of Lust’s lips as she addressed the woman, prompting a blush and averted gaze. “Indeed, they are descendants of the World Devouring wolf. Occasionally, beings from outside their lineage manifest with Pantophagic energy. It makes one wonder why the system hasn’t issued a quest to eliminate them, as it did with the Empyreans. But look, my adorable little murderer has returned.”

As she spoke, several Handlers let out chuckles. The spider-woman momentarily smiled while observing the screen, though her multifaceted head remained oriented towards where the Ruler of Kindness rested on her companion’s lap.

The appearance of the weredeer brought the ongoing battle to an abrupt halt. All activity ceased, and no one dared to mock the sight. Many among them recalled their initial encounters with an Absolute, before they learned to temper their overwhelming presence.

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Yet, amidst this widespread pause, a solitary figure continued to move. His pace was deliberate, almost leisurely, as he advanced ahead of everyone else.

“What a remarkable physique and intellect,” one of the Handlers murmured with evident admiration. “Were it not for Nyssa or Christoph, he would have undoubtedly been the most exceptional attendee in the last millennium.”

“And his smile is truly captivating,” another chimed in, accompanied by a few chuckles and similar exclamations.

“I still maintain Lyraen possesses greater potential. Furthermore, some of the underestimated S-rank attendees who concluded their tutorials have been performing admirably. Have you heard of Ozlashaktralq? He is nearing the Absolute stage now.”

There seemed to be little concern among them regarding the individuals on the screen or the impending peril they faced. Many had already derived sufficient amusement from witnessing this peculiar new turn of events. Some, perhaps, even harbored hopes for the demise of those on screen, thereby creating better prospects in Beyond for their own protégés. Others might have already placed wagers, confident in securing substantial shard winnings.

However, their discussions faltered as the small corgi surged forward. The primordial energy it had been cultivating erupted with unprecedented force. The weredeer vanished, pursued by the corgi, igniting a flurry of conversations as groups spontaneously erupted into animated chatter.

“...Did he perhaps compromise the tutorial’s structural integrity?”

“Extremely pure Pantophagic energy possesses that capability, albeit at a significant cost. Even members of that wolf clan exercise restraint in its application to circumvent the system’s eradication quest. The unfortunate creature either lost control or was driven to extreme desperation.”

“He’s likely gone. Is he deceased?”

“If survival occurred, his mind must have been shattered by such an onslaught. Or at the very least, a portion of him was consumed by that energy; such instances have been documented.”

“It has destabilized the tutorial’s framework. The Ruler of Diligence is certain to be displeased.”

“The system has likely rectified the issue and implemented countermeasures against such occurrences in the future, diminishing the energy’s potency. The system can be slow to adapt to unique powers that see infrequent use. Given time, it will suppress such energy to the level of common abilities. Ultimately, it was merely a minor breach in this tutorial instance, and it persisted for mere fractions of a second.” A handler stated flatly, breaking his silence. He was a lumoran, his limbs entirely composed of crystal, with mana visibly coursing through his internal bone structure.

“I wager a million shards that the endearing creature is no more.”

“Two million shards. It’s alive, but incapacitated and mentally broken.”

“Three million shards, it will…”

The Ruler of Greed tuned out their bickering as she observed the Ruler of Lust, who stood with a dazzling smile. After extending greetings to everyone and even offering a bow to the Ruler of Kindness, Lust departed with haste.

It appeared the Ruler of Greed was privy to the situation or the destination, and seemed poised to follow, but was halted by the blonde individual reclining on her knees.

the blonde mouthed silently.

This caused her friend to frown slightly, yet she remained, settling back into her position.

With the weredeer no longer visible, the screen's focus reverted to its previous view. However, before it could fully re-establish, it paused and shifted its attention southward.

The earth convulsed as something immense extracted itself from the depths below – a wyvern, reminiscent of the hatchling, yet magnified to a terrifying, unparalleled magnitude.

This colossal entity was the origin of the oppressive domain currently engulfing the planet. While wyverns were renowned for their scorching white lightning, they were equally dreaded for their profound command over diverse domains.

The ancient beast instantly detected the presence of its offspring. However, its intended path was obstructed by the opponent that materialized directly before it.

In ages past, it could have effortlessly obliterated such a being in mere seconds, eradicating it from existence for daring to impede its progress. But those times were long gone. Now ancient and succumbing to mortality, it had been roused by the call of its young, clawing its way from the very place destined to be its tomb.

Still, it gazes down upon the creature before it, unfurling its damaged wings, and the very fabric of space shudders around its form. It understands that tracking the hatchling's cries is impossible without first neutralizing the adversary directly in its path.

Kindness now oversees the monitoring screens following Lust's departure. Just as the Handlers commence placing bets on the ongoing confrontation, she redirects the view back to the group engaged with the hatchling. Though a sense of disappointment permeates the onlookers, none dare voice their displeasure openly.

"I had truly hoped they would have dispatched the hatchling by now. My wager was that such an event would have provoked the mother wyvern into a furious rage," remarks one of the men. His physique is enveloped in fur, and his visage carries bestial attributes, faintly resembling a bear. Remarkably, he is clad in an immaculate white suit.

"You have harbored that very wish since the egg first hatched," the spider-like woman reminds him with a gentle tone. "However, ample time still remains. Besides, I suspect the mother wyvern would have detected any harm befalling its offspring and would have forcefully pushed through the weredeer by now."

The bear-man casually dismisses her words with a wave of his hand. "Just observe them; they are already holding back. That bothersome empath instructed them to do so. Why does she continue to weep so incessantly?"

As she continues to intently watch the unfolding battle, the spider woman states, "Is it not because the hatchling managed to damage one of the twins? It is truly remarkable. No wonder Lady Lust ascended so rapidly after its taming. What truly puzzles me is why the others are restraining themselves. I would have anticipated them finishing it off by now, as they appear fully capable of doing so."

"It's because of that incessantly crying empath, you see. They know the mother wyvern will arrive, and they've decided to spoil my enjoyment by refraining from terminating it," the bear-man sighs audibly, yet his attention remains fixed on the screen.

They observe the remainder of the fight, which devolves into a strenuous effort to subdue the young wyvern. As they manage to pin it down, primarily through the determined efforts of the man possessing eyes of differing colors, others attempt to deliver the killing blow to the hatchling. The dual-eyed man, without a word, skillfully intercepts their attacks.

Numerous individuals within the Cerulean Parlor offer commendations on his adeptness at restraining the creature and warding off its assaults of white lightning. They also take note of his effectiveness in neutralizing every attempt the hatchling makes to communicate with its parent. After only a couple of observations, he appears to have developed a successful method to silence its pleas.

He and the hatchling engage in a constant, perilous dance where a single lapse in concentration, a momentary slip, or the faltering of a weary mind would grant the creature the opportunity to break free. His dark mana continuously surges, drawing increasingly from the surrounding area and siphoning the ambient mana. The imposing entity, concealed behind his back, expands in size, pressing against the protective barrier erected around the hatchling and absorbing the searing bolts of white lightning.

Wagers are being placed on his endurance, with many predicting he can only last ten minutes, given the hatchling's rapid growth and learning capacity, which is swiftly approaching the power level of a Champion.

He withstands the onslaught for well over fifty minutes.

The hatchling finds itself utterly helpless. It cannot breach the defenses, mimic his dark mana, nor develop the necessary control to shatter the impenetrable ability he wields. At long last, for the very first time, it exhibits fear, retreating to the furthest edge of the barrier, away from the man whose unwavering gaze has not shifted. This stoicism remained unbroken even when one of the twins was obliterated in a blinding flash of white lightning, when the others charged forward with the intent to slay the hatchling, or when his own bonded companion vanished.

It doesn't even appear as though he has blinked since the engagement began.

That same impassive expression persists even as the portal to the subsequent floor materializes, and everyone else departs with whatever treasures they can gather. Finally, the protective barrier encircling the hatchling dissipates.

It emits multiple cries for its mother into a world that seems to be fracturing from the intensity of the battle raging in the distance. The tremors escalate in response to its desperate calls, and the man allows this escalation to proceed.

The tendrils of the dark entity behind him stir and seize the hatchling, even as the creature envelops itself in a shroud of crackling white lightning that pierces the dark form and incinerates mana.

In his hand, the man materializes a spear forged from blood and thrusts it forward with a single, precise motion, piercing directly through the location he senses the hatchling's vulnerable heart.

Without the slightest hint of triumph or any other malevolent emotion, he turns and departs, leaving the hatchling and even the entity holding it behind. He steps through the portal, which seals shut to the agonizing cries of a distant, dying wyvern.