I Fought Kal'tsit? Seriously?

In other words, the warden clearly hadn't intended for this prison's control room to operate in the traditional manner. That was only reasonable—considering the unrest brewing beneath the prison earlier, everything seemed to point toward some long-hidden plan.

Forget it. There was no use overthinking it. Once they reached the specific location, all the mysteries would become clear.

Avoiding the prison guards searching along the way, Gerald and Saria quickly returned to the guards' break room and reopened the wall that had previously been covered in Enamel.

And just as they stepped back into that dark space—

Mansfield began moving again.

"Judging by the time, they should have returned to Columbia by now, barring any surprises."

Seeing Gerald remain silent, Saria thought he was worried about the others who had left. "You don't need to worry too much."

"No, I know." Gerald shook his head. "The Originium Arts I left on Anthony has stopped functioning. From past experience, it only disappears after a certain amount of time or distance. Since there were no signs of it being triggered, they should've entered Ticarondo around five minutes ago."

"The problem is, the flow is telling me that Mansfield's speed is wrong," he continued. "It's too fast. This isn't a speed it should normally be capable of. Even burning Originium at maximum output, I've never seen an increase this extreme."

Saria quickly realized it as well. "You suspect it has something to do with the missing core system?"

"Yes." Gerald nodded lightly in the darkness. "Come on. Find a way to secure yourself to me."

Surprise flickered across Saria's brow, but she didn't hesitate. She wrapped her arms around him from the front, turning sideways and pressing herself against his chest.

"Don't throw up, Saria. Use Calcification to protect us."

Neither of them had any improper thoughts. There was only the weight of the current situation. Gerald tightly wrapped his arms around the person in front of him. "One minute will be enough."

The moment his words fell, wind gathered around his feet like a vortex poised to strike.

As he suddenly stepped forward, a gale-like burst of speed erupted through the narrow passage. The massive airflow slammed into the walls, sending deafening shockwaves echoing through and filling the entire space.

As he ran, a map of the [Storage Area] emerged in Gerald's mind.

The complexity of this area was beyond words. Intersecting forks, hidden slopes and ramps—it seemed designed specifically to confuse anyone who entered. To those unable to distinguish the routes, this place was nothing less than a maze where they could wander in circles forever.

Fortunately, the wind told him there were no tripwire traps or anything similar along the way. Otherwise, at this impact speed, even Enamel wouldn't have kept them from getting hurt.

But that wasn't what he needed to worry about most. What concerned him now was the pressure acceleration put on the human body.

He could endure this burden himself, but carrying Saria in his arms was another matter entirely.

Saria's tail was really heavy. With her entire body squeezed into his embrace, it felt like he was holding a massive anchor. The stiffness caused by acceleration only made matters worse. If he hadn't been able to hear Saria's steady breathing, even he wouldn't have dared to continue like this.

However, the situation clearly didn't allow room for that much thought.

Looking at it optimistically, Mansfield was accelerating in order to move the prison away from Columbia and capture the prisoners inside.

But from a worse perspective, Mansfield's acceleration resembled a suicidal plunge off the tracks.

And the missing core system was clearly making the latter outcome infinitely more likely.

Just as Gerald had said, one minute was short—short enough for two people to race from one end of a maze to the other, near the critical area.

But one minute could also be long. Long enough that even a Vouivre like Saria never wanted to experience it again—acceleration exceeding ten G surged and dropped in an instant, and even she found it difficult to recover immediately.

Gerald gave Saria ten seconds to catch her breath. Taking advantage of the gap, he said, "Next, I'll focus on sensing. I'll handle the directions, Saria. I'm counting on you for everything around us."

"Understood." Saria exhaled heavily. After clearing her head a little, she took two masks from her pocket. "Put one on. Let's begin."

Gerald quickly took a mask and put it on. Then he placed his palm against the middle of the wall and stated concisely, "Thirteen hostile biological signatures behind the wall. Suspected Lupo Beastkin. There are abnormal crystal blocks on their bodies."

The instant he finished speaking, the wind sliced a large hole through the wall, wide enough for a person to pass through. A bloody stench rushed toward the opening with the pressure differential, then vanished without a trace at Gerald's wave.

Beyond the wall lay a low, dim space.

The air was thick with the stench of decay. Partially gnawed bones littered the floor, while bloodstained fur and ruptured organs gave off a pungent, bloody reek.

Hunting dogs poked their heads out from their nest. Originium fragments of varying sizes had been embedded in their bodies, driven deep between muscle and bone, gleaming with an eerie light.

In the corners, several old hunting dogs and weak pups huddled together, avoiding the aggressive gazes of their companions. Originium had been embedded even deeper into them. Their wounds had already festered, their skin covered in cracks and bleeding marks.

The only thing they had in common was the hunger for flesh in their eyes.

Closest to the opening stood the largest hunting dog. Its muscles were taut as iron, and the instant the intruders appeared, it let out an ear-splitting roar—

Pfft.

The heads of every hunting dog were crushed into pulp by wind pressure in an instant.

Enamel followed, spreading over the ground and directly encasing the hunting dogs' corpses.

Its smooth surface reflected the crimson overhead lights. The contents inside began swelling in an instant, forcing Saria to further reinforce the Enamel and contain the small-scale explosion within a limited area.

"Active Originium is present on the organisms' surfaces," Saria reported. "Avoid killing them if possible. Recommend neutralization."

"Understood." Gerald continued forward. "Living target detected. One hundred meters behind the door at four o'clock. The ticking is coming from around the door. I'll cut through the wall with wind."

"Received." The instant Gerald cut an opening into the wall, Saria spread Calcification through the area. The ticking Originium bombs were immediately covered, encased, detonated, and then annihilated within it.

When Saria refocused her gaze on the room, her movements couldn't help but pause for several seconds.

Several rows of fully functional laboratory instruments stood along the walls. The burettes, centrifuges, and microscopes even looked freshly manufactured. A faint blue glow shone from the refrigerated cabinets in the corners, where several Originium crystals emitting eerie radiance lay quietly within, forming a strange contrast with the preserved human tissue samples beside them.

At the center of the room stood a metal dissection table soaked in blood. A miserable human body lay on it, its limbs fastened with thick belts. Exposed muscles were embedded with Originium fragments. Some fragments had sunk deep into the bones, giving off a faint glow as if they were still active. Others were accompanied by the stench of rotting tissue, surrounded by irregular scars and fleshy tumors.

Most eye-catching of all was the Originium crystal fused with the brain.

It was so vivid, as though it were still alive—

Grotesque.

That was the only word for it.

"Area cleared. Threat eliminated."

"Continue forward. Tripwires near the door. Confirmed the traps can't be placed in midair. Remaining weak life signs are gathered behind the target living entity."

Gerald sensed the emotional disturbance of the person beside him and chose to wrap an arm around Saria's waist. "There are no pipes or load-bearing structures in the wall ahead. We'll break through from above."

"...Understood. Calcification deployed."

Enamel didn't rush at him in an attacking manner. Instead, it gently wrapped around him. That familiar surface had now become the shield Gerald trusted most, embracing him as they advanced together.

Then the wind carried them both forward, smashing into the seemingly indestructible wall in the center.

Boom!!!

The tremendous noise from the first impact shook the surroundings. Spiderweb cracks spread across the wall as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer, and the very center was punched straight through. But neither of them stopped. After ensuring the nearby traps had been neutralized, Enamel instantly covered them again, and they charged through the broken dust toward the second wall.

Boom!!!!

The second impact was even more violent. Chunks of concrete flew everywhere as a massive breach exploded through the wall, yet it still wasn't enough to take them to the end. Thus came the third collision.

Boom!!!!!

Carrying all their accumulated force, the Pegasus and the Vouivre smashed through the final obstacle.

Wind blades tore through the air. Rubble fell like rain alongside Enamel. As the wall collapsed with a thunderous crash, dust rolled through the air, and after a brief silence, the entire passage settled into a breathing calm.

As the dust gradually cleared, the destination finally appeared before them. A figure slowly emerged from the depths.

His outline was blurred by the light. Accompanied by a faint cough, an aged voice came through the lingering smoke. "You two really are... impressively brutish—ugh!! Ugh!!!!"

The Pegasus had no interest in letting him finish his nonsense.

The old man's body was yanked directly into the air by the wind. His left arm snapped in half with a crack, and Gerald immediately demanded, "Where is the core system that can stop the moving structure?"

"Heh... hehehe, that thing was already—ugh!!!! Ugh!!!!!!!!"

The wind snapped his right hand, and one of his teeth was torn out in an instant, filling his mouth with blood. Yet the wind didn't stop. It still howled through the room, crushing even the table in its center into powder.

The threatening display came to a temporary end there.

"The rest is yours, Saria." Gerald wasn't worried that his friend would show even the slightest mercy. "The poison tooth in his mouth has been removed. There was a piece of technology in the table approaching an energy weapon; I've destroyed it for now. There are several hidden Originium bombs in the corner. The signal transmitter was in his pocket, and now it's—"

He caught the remote control the wind brought to him. "Here."

Saria glanced at it. "Can't confirm whether there are other trigger commands set. Are there load-bearing structures nearby?"

"Yes. That'll make defusing the bombs difficult." Gerald swept his gaze across the room. "I haven't sensed anything else for the moment. If we assume he's determined to take us down with him, all we can do for now is gamble on the possibility of protecting ourselves. That's the current situation. I'll inspect the moving structure's power layer and see whether I can stop it directly through external force."

"Also, once everything is over..." Gerald paused, raising his head to point toward the space behind the old man. "There are a lot of things wrong over there. Very bad things. Be careful."

After saying that, his figure quickly vanished from the space.

Saria turned her head back. Her cold gaze fell upon the old man suspended in the center of the room, who could only answer in silence.

What she pursued was order—principles that could not be violated.

In this regard, she would not choose mercy.

"What exactly have you done here, Randall?"

And her voice was even colder than her gaze.

The Cycle of Hatred

The old man suspended in the air by the wind looked utterly miserable—both arms had been broken and hung limply at his sides, leaving him floating in an unnatural posture. His mouth was full of blood, and with his poison tooth precisely removed and lying on the floor, even biting down to kill himself had become difficult.

Yet even in such a state, an amused smile remained on his face. On that gentle, refined face, the smile didn't even seem particularly out of place.

Pain seemed like something that would fade from him in moments. The Elafian's antlers appeared to have been damaged in some accident long ago, and the skin tissue that had once covered them now looked ruined and incomplete.

The Elafian ability to communicate emotions and thoughts had vanished from him, replaced by an even crueler reality that was now focused in his gaze, fixed upon Saria.

"...Are you going to break my bones too, tear apart my flesh? The famous Saria."

Randall, the prison warden, took several ragged breaths before baring his teeth in a cruel smile. "Ah, before that, let me tell you something—the braking system for this prison has already been destroyed by me."

"I'd originally planned to wait until you broke through those checkpoints, then calmly welcome the end together with you at the final moment... But unfortunately, I truly hadn't expected the Grand Knight Commander of Kazimierz to bring trouble this terrifying."

"But that's normal. Failure always persists. From the moment you arrived at Mansfield, I was already prepared."

Saria cut Randall off forcefully. "I don't need your nonsense. Since you don't intend to stop this prison, once we return to Columbia, the relevant authorities will intervene and investigate. Everything here will end."

"Interesting. You still think I'll let you return to Columbia." Randall spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, savagery and refinement coexisting on his face.

"It has nothing to do with what you think. I believe in him."

After saying that, Saria manipulated the Enamel around her, preparing to seal his mouth and establish a soundproof barrier around the walls—if the Originium bombs were triggered by a particular tone, then isolating sound was naturally the best option.

"You came here seeking the legacy of Loken Watertank, didn't you, Saria?"

Yet the words from the man before her made it impossible for her hands to continue moving. She had many questions: Randall's motives, why experiments related to Loken Watertank had resurfaced here, the role Beach Umbrella had played in the previous experiments, and the experimental data they had already gathered.

"...You intend to die."

After a moment of silence, Saria slowly said, "I don't believe the last words of someone who intends to die. They can sometimes deceive one's understanding and lead people toward the wrong target."

"But you still stopped. I can tell." Randall ignored the Calcification crawling over his face and spoke word by word. "Because you're afraid. You aren't sure why I did these things, what my motives are, why I intend to die, or why I chose to send Mansfield back into the wilderness."

"You like making your own decisions. You don't trust Columbia's authorities. You trust what you see with your own eyes more. So you're still hesitating over whether to listen to what I have to say next."

His words carried a venomous temptation. "How could I not have expected it? No matter how carefully the arrogance in a Vouivre's bones is wrapped up, there will always be moments when it can't help but leak out."

The instant the Vouivre clenched her fist, he naturally shifted from a provocative tone to a leisurely recounting and continued.

"Ever since Rhine Lab went through some minor... shall we say, changes, a certain rumor has been circulating outside Columbia. It says we'd better clean up certain loose ends, lest someone with ill intentions set their sights on us—such as the Maylander Foundation, or one of Rhine Lab's founders preparing to personally step in."

"Of course, I didn't care. Why would anyone come looking for Mansfield? My nephew, who conducted research at Beach Umbrella, thought the same. He believed that even if you truly got involved, you would only be looking to vent your anger on a few ordinary people—making an example out of them and putting on a show."

"Who could've known that a founder of Rhine Lab would truly go after another pharmaceutical company—after Beach Umbrella?"

Saria interrupted him directly. "I don't know who your nephew is, but if you're referring to Beach Umbrella's secret underground laboratory in New Manchester, then everyone received the punishment they deserved. Your nephew included."

A dark glint passed through Randall's eyes. His lips moved soundlessly. After a moment of silence, he said:

"The punishment they deserved?"

"Ah, right. In your view, the punishment they deserved was throwing him into a Columbia prison and sentencing him to life imprisonment... Naturally, that wasn't a problem for me. I'm on good terms with the wardens of many prisons. After all, experiments require high-quality subjects with strong physiques, or core materials with exceptional Originium Arts. Those things are trouble for wardens, but not for me."

"So the instant I heard the news, I immediately went to that prison to find my nephew."

"—And in the end, all I found was a corpse casually discarded in the wilderness."

Silence slowly filled the entire space until Randall's voice shattered it once more.

"Being a hero must feel wonderful, doesn't it, Saria? You never thought about how things would end, did you?"

His refined, amiable face suddenly twitched, then twisted.

The hatred hidden beneath the surface erupted like raging fire. His mask silently shattered, revealing a hideous true face warped by fury. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth and ran down his jaw, but it couldn't conceal the madness in his eyes.

"This is all your fault, Saria."