CHAPTER 75: TRACES OF THE NETHERONES

Gaya stared at the prison bars scattered across the cavern’s expanse. She stood motionless, turning her head to survey the horror surrounding them.

Her eyes were cold and indifferent, a slight frown creasing her face.

She neither spoke nor moved for several heartbeats.

However, another did.

Adrian staggered backward, turned away from them, and expelled the vile contents that surged from his gut as he beheld the macabre scene.

He doubled over and continued retching.

Meanwhile, Gaya surveyed the carnage. She opened her hand, closed her eyes, then murmured something under her breath.

Instantly, all the bodies within the prison bars ignited. But this was no ordinary flame—a strange white fire that burned serenely. There was a rhythm to it that brought peace to any heart witnessing its dance.

Gaya touched her chest and sighed deeply.

"May their souls rest in perfect peace."

The next instant, her eyes blazed with dangerous light. Then she strode forward.

Her steps had transformed. Before, they were merely hasty—now they were purposeful, each footfall carrying an unspoken promise.

A debt to be paid.

They traversed a narrow passage and arrived at a massive crimson gate adorned with golden markings.

However, the gate stood slightly ajar.

They were about to enter when Gaya suddenly whipped her head toward the left and frowned. At that moment, both Elara and Adrian sensed it.

It was like a rat scurrying away in the shadows. They couldn’t identify what it was, but the sensation was unmistakable—something in their peripheral vision had just vanished. The strangest part was that it remained undetectable until it moved.

Adrian frowned and questioned with worry creeping into his voice.

"Lady Gaya, did you sense that?"

She nodded. Adrian pressed further.

"What could it be?"

"Something sinister, sneaky, and responsible for the massacre back there. It reeks of Netherone."

Adrian’s eyes widened in alarm.

"Lady Gaya... you can’t be suggesting...?"

She nodded grimly.

"Yes. The spawn of the Fallen. I cannot be mistaken about this."

Elara looked between them with bewilderment.

"I’m terribly sorry, Lady Elara, but I have no idea what a Netherone is."

Gaya shrugged.

"That’s understandable."

Her gaze lingered on Adrian for a moment.

"I’m far more surprised that he recognizes them. This is history spanning at least ten millennia."

Adrian chuckled.

"Well, I come from a family of Historian Scribes. Although the culture was lost over time, part of my family’s heirloom is a library containing billions of historical materials tracing us back to the First Gods and the enemies they faced before the coming of the New Gods.

"Nether was one of them—a tenacious bastard that required all the gods of that era to unite in order to defeat him. Even after that, his soul shattered and fell, and from it arose lesser races called the Fallen. For a while, the First Gods hunted them, but they could never be completely eradicated. Worse still, they began spawning children with different races. These offspring were called Netherones."

Gaya raised a finger and added.

"The Netherones were first discovered during the age of the First Humans. They can assume any form—he could be a Netherone and I’d never know. That goblin over there could be a Netherone and I’d be none the wiser."

Elara sighed deeply.

"Then how are they identified?"

"They are strong."

Elara looked at Gaya and tilted her head slightly, struggling to comprehend.

"But... aren’t there strong people too? Master Cien, for example—he survived Hollowreach. He must be incredibly strong."

Gaya smiled and shook her head.

"You’re right, he is strong. But that’s not the kind of strength I’m referring to. The weakest Netherone possesses the power of an Elder Monster."

She gestured with her hand, holding it low for emphasis.

"I’m saying a one-year-old Netherone, if taught the arts of combat, could defeat an Elder Monster with... ease."

Elara’s jaw dropped.

Gaya turned away from her and faced the door.

Adrian’s cool voice drifted from behind.

"Forgive me... but what does it mean if a Netherone is lurking in a dungeon? I mean, they rarely venture out."

Gaya tilted her head left and right, studying the door.

"There are numerous possibilities I could attribute this to. But right now, I can’t think clearly. I need to see him."

Adrian was about to ask who when he paused, followed her gaze to the door, and realized.

’Ah...’

Gaya frowned and strode inside without hesitation.

However, her demeanor shifted entirely.

Adrian followed close behind, already witnessing what had captured her attention.

Elara trailed them, her shoulders trembling.

Across the ground spread a pool of green blood, streaming between the hall’s tiles, forming a morbid canvas. Severed limbs scattered the floor—legs, arms, eyes wide and glassy, mouths frozen mid-scream.

As they advanced, their footwear stuck to the viscous monster blood, leaving prints in the crimson-green mire.

The entire chamber was silent. Eerily, unnaturally silent.

And ahead of them loomed the sight that had shaken Elara to her core.

A mountain of bodies. A towering heap of mangled, severed, slaughtered corpses.

Atop this gruesome monument sat a solitary figure, head bowed low.

His body was slicked with green blood, his hair matted and dripping.

Gaya stared upward, conflict etched across her face.

Even Adrian’s composure cracked—lines formed beneath his eyes as he gazed at the scene with stark disbelief.

How could such carnage be possible?

How could a single man... slaughter so many monsters?

He narrowed his eyes and looked up.

"Master... Cien?"

Lucien, perched atop the mountain of bodies with his hand fused to the Darkness Cutter, raised his head slightly. A cold, feverish white light blazed from within his mask.

"Ga...ya."

Gaya shivered at the sound of her name. For a moment, she nearly staggered backward.

Her vision blurred as a feared memory—or was it an image?—surged to the surface of her mind.

One of a god, she was certain. But which god remained elusive. It was of a deity she had never encountered before.

Yet it terrified her.

And filled her with dread.

A bone-deep, crawling dread.

However, the beautiful elf drew a steadying breath and smiled warmly.

"Lord Cien. You are alive."