Chapter 818 (1/2)
The Spearman didn’t like moving himself. It stunk of the scramblings of an amateur. But things were getting too close to completion. And this time, he needed to be sure. He had waited for far, far too long. What the situation needed was perfect. And that meant his personal touch.
Bitterness sat in the Spearman’s chest like a crate full of rotting lemons.
Are you watching, Ethe? Even if I couldn’t save you, I’ll save your world. It’s the least I can do after you saved me.
The Spearman steps were broad and devoured distance. Although he didn’t use images any longer, lest he taint the world, he still had the Skill Levels that were approaching Level 400. With them, most mundane tasks were all too simple for him to accomplish with his vast physical abilities and Skills.
It was quiet out in the countryside, the Spearman noticed. Then he clicked his tongue in distaste. That strange interloper Randidly Ghosthound, who somehow resembled his images yet didn’t have the Spearman’s own distinct energy signature, had performed some grand spell working earlier in the day. Somehow, the fool boy had destroyed the sea of energy that animated the Wights.
Long ago, the Spearman had dismissed most forms of Mana based Skills, finding them lacking in efficiency. Sure, they possessed more flash and often contained a certain amount of charming utility, but they were nothing in the face of reliable performance with a spear. Since then, he hadn’t bothered working overmuch with such Skills.
Even now, when most of the Spearman’s day to day work was with engravings, he had developed his own method of engraving that relied on Stamina.
But all that seemed pale and weak in the face of what that boy had done.
Jealousy flashed hot and vicious in the Spearman’s chest, but he suppressed it. Per his orders, Mydia and Versault were currently speaking with the boy about the way of the world. For all his… irritating timing, he would be a useful tool going forward. Who knew what new trial the System would throw at Tellus once they passed this one.
The Spearman’s eyes narrowed. And to protect Ethe’s memory, I will use any tool necessary. All so that her world will survive.
If it still survives. If it didn’t starve just like Tellus did. The Spearman couldn’t suppress the insidious thought quickly enough. But while walking, he kicked out and shattered a mountain to vent his frustrations at his traitorous mind that spawn such darkness and pessimism.
The stone shattered, finally breaking the silence. The Spearman then continued forward.
His mood was much more even by the time he arrived in Hastam.
The city was clearly in the throes of bleary relief. People were singing and drinking in the streets. That damned C Corp had set up carts on street corners to sell their malt beverage. It was infuriating both because the Spearman still hadn’t been able to determine the leadership of the Corporation and because it had made the city smell like cheap beer.
The Spearman considered destroying a few of these to send a message, but he knew it was just a distraction. Better to continue onward.
He arrived at the room they were staying in without in a minute. After a single knock, the door opened.
As soon as she opened the door, Ophelia bowed deeply. “Milord Spearman. I apologize for forcing you to come so far out.”
The Spearman grunted as he walked past her. “You dealt with the situation… with appropriate responses. We remain on for the conflict, then?”
Ophelia kept her nose pressed against the ground. “Yes. We have just returned from the Dungeon; Shal has reached Level 99.”
Aylwind, who had been sitting on the couch, hastily jumped to his feet and also bowed. Which just left a single figure standing in the middle of the room. The Spearman took another step forward, examining this turning figure carefully.
Shal was tall and muscular, with a slight bluish tint to his skin. That, combined with the closed third eye in the middle of his forehead, were small hints at his genetic heritage. The Spearman also felt a flash of fury as bright and sudden as an ignited firecracker. They also hinted at the Spearman’s own failure; he had been able to genetically modify Wights to breed with the people of Tellus, but he had never been able to rid those of mixed blood of these genetic ticks.
Even now, it irked him so much he wanted to kill them all and start over.
Everything for you, Ethe. I’ll stay calm for you.
Aside from his heritage, Shal was tall with a strong gaze. Even though Shal wasn’t using any images, the air around him was filled with vivid pictures of his Wraith Viper, as well as venom and fangs. The Spearman’s eyes narrowed.
This was the true reason he had come. One last examination. Most wouldn’t be able to sense these thin phantom images, but the Spearman had cut himself off from images long ago so he would no longer infect those that came after with his own image. Part of the reason why it was necessary was that it had given him an extremely delicate sense of images. Even when not in use, the Spearman could see the shadows of the Skills an individual used just by looking at them.
The other reason was so others wouldn’t resemble his images, and the System wouldn’t doom Ethe’s world because their image was created by a Nemesis. Even so, the damage had largely been done. He had been forced to wait generations for new images to slowly take shape, even as his images calcified and slowed the process.