r18novel Chapter 83 Aftermath
Chapter 83 Aftermath
One week after Luo Lan seized the core of the Rift Ruins, in a hidden underground space in the Central Continent.
This is a nest-type Naraku that has been modified by the "Breath Worm Engineers" of the "Flesh-Burning Rotting Nest".
The entire space was shrouded in an impenetrable darkness, and the air was filled with a pungent, putrid stench.
Around a huge round table pieced together from countless bones and still writhing flesh, sat a dozen or so figures dressed in jet-black robes.
Their faces were deeply hidden in the shadow of their hoods, with only a few glowing eyes or deformed limbs protruding from their sleeves occasionally revealing their inhuman nature.
A hoarse, shrill sound, like metal scraping against glass, rose and fell in the darkness.
"...A large-scale collapse of chaotic energy has been detected in the No. 17 sub-nest within the territory of the Holy Kingdom, and it is suspected that the core of the Rift has been taken away... The simulated soul connections of the previously deployed experimental subjects have all been severed... Their fate is unknown."
"If their fate is unknown, then they are dead!"
"Death is like a cool summer night, a time for peaceful, carefree sleep..."
Voices came from each seat at the round table.
These sounds, though all in Akquaid Common, had a tone that sounded like they were being squeezed from a mucus-filled throat, with a nauseating wetness.
"Silence! Three minutes before the signal from Nest 17 completely disappeared, detection revealed Outer God contamination from [Blasphemy and Falsehood], potentially spawning new mutated individuals. It warrants further investigation..."
"I bet they've used all the test subjects as sacrifices again, haven't they? How many times have they gone to waste? Fine, according to procedure... anyone who agrees to send the Eyebug unit to investigate, raise your hand."
"Okay... Two votes in favor. Three abstentions. Fourteen votes against. Exploration request rejected. Nest No. 17 is deemed 'abandoned'."
"Next topic."
"According to reconnaissance, all the lower-level synaptic individuals in sub-nest 29 have perished after being ambushed by the elite Purifier squad of the Emerald Council. However, the Chaos Concentrate reserves accumulated over nine hundred years, as well as thousands of high-quality aberrant prototypes, remain intact there. That's... a sumptuous feast."
"Should we send a scavenger unit to recover the biomass?"
"Whoosh—"
This time, as soon as the words were spoken, almost all the men in black robes around the round table raised their hands instantly.
Not only their hands, but some were so excited that they stretched out several tentacles from their robes and held them up together.
"Okay... Nineteen votes in favor, zero votes against. Passed unanimously."
The man in black robes at the head of the table nodded in satisfaction—though it was unclear whether what was nodding in the shadows was a human head.
"Then, meeting adjourned. As for which branch nest will be responsible for the retrieval mission, that will be decided at the next Conflict Month meeting."
"Huh? The meeting's over already?"
"What will we eat now that you're gone?"
"Yes, what do you want to eat?"
……
……
One month later, in Fallen Leaf Town, at a small tavern.
The night was deep, and the last of the noise in the tavern was coming to an end.
"Closed! Closed! Didn't you hear me? We're closing! Come back tomorrow!"
The tavern owner, a middle-aged, bearded dwarf with a waist almost as thick as a barrel, was impatiently shooing away the last group of lingering drunks with his thunderous voice.
The tall, thin, half-elf bartender, responsible for wiping the bar counter, mercilessly echoed the bar owner's sarcastic remarks:
"What you haven't finished... now! Right now! Immediately! Finish it up! I still need to mop the floor! You worthless scum, don't you have anything better to do? You hang around here all day, the Chaos Mist has been gone for a month already... why don't you go somewhere else and make some money!"
The half-elf bartender, while wiping the wine-stained bar counter with a rag whose original color was indistinguishable, spat at the drunken adventurers.
Although, in theory, the tavern's business depends entirely on these hangover adventurers.
But the half-elf bartender showed no sympathy for these lowly, decadent adventurers who were still idle after the end of the magic tide, who could only numb themselves with alcohol and couldn't even earn a few copper coins.
No matter how much they are criticized, these low-level adventurers have long since developed the ability to be "unfazed by adversity" and will still rush to lie down and spend money on drinking.
"Tch... This is so annoying... What's all the noise about... If all my money hadn't been spent on healing the Paladin and I still didn't have enough to repair my broken weapon... I wouldn't want to squat in this shitty place and listen to your farting..."
In the corner, an orc Dark Iron warrior muttered as he downed the last bit of murky ale in his cup.
A month earlier, his cat-human companions were unfortunately attacked by berserk demon wolves during the Demon Tide in the first level of the Rift Ruins.
The person was rescued, but suffered from the corruption of chaos. In the remote town that was sealed by the chaotic mist at the time, this injury meant that he would not live much longer.
Fortunately, a paladin happened to pass by the tavern. After spending eight gold coins, the orc warrior asked the paladin to heal his companion's fatal wound.
Therefore, the orc warriors at this time were short of money and could only drink the cheapest, worst wine and grumble uselessly.
The drunken orc staggered toward the tavern's door—the door he had kicked down a month earlier and which the tavern owner had barely managed to repair with a few broken planks.
Just as the orc was about to push open the wooden door, the door, which should have been tightly closed, suddenly creaked open without warning!
Immediately afterwards, a biting night wind suddenly rushed in.
The gust of wind caused the lights in the tavern to flicker, dispersing much of the foul air that the drunkards were nearly vomiting from.
"Huh?...What's going on...Is it this windy tonight?"
The orc warrior stopped in his tracks, slightly sobered by the strange night wind. He rubbed his sleepy, drunken eyes and muttered to himself in confusion.
The other people in the tavern were also drawn to this sudden turn of events, stopping what they were doing and looking curiously at the open door.
However, there was nothing at the doorway except for the deep darkness of night.
Just when everyone thought it was just an ordinary night breeze, a chattering voice came from behind:
"Goo-ga! Paladin? Big green guy... You just said Paladin, quack! What does he look like, quack?"
The orc warrior shuddered and turned around abruptly.
I don't know when.
Under the dim light of the oil lamp, a dark figure casually leaned against the greasy bar counter of the tavern.
The figure was clad in matte black light armor, covered by a long black cloak, with a silver cross pendant hanging on its chest and a blood-red longsword that looked extraordinary on its back.
However, the question just now did not come from this dark figure, but from a crow perched on his shoulder.
The raven's orange eyes stared at the orc warrior, its voice as noisy as ever:
"Hurry up and tell me! I'll give you gold coins! What are you standing there for? You big green idiot, tell me what that 'Paladin' looks like? No, wait... what he looks like doesn't matter—what color is his holy light?"