AN: Hope you enjoy reading~
Chapter 32:
Killia breathed a sigh of relief. Though, it was more of a sigh of liberation. He dodged a bullet, as they say.
Samuel may claim to be not to be psychic, but he was becoming increasingly convinced that he was. He assumed that he was joking when he warned him that he better not return to the Pocket Netherworld married.
He would have been so mad and upset if Killia did return married. He could imagine him spluttering with a righteous anger. Justifiably, really.
Being married to Seraphina was the last thing Killia wanted.
That was not a slight against Seraphina. As he had said before, long ago, there was nothing inherently wrong with Seraphina. He just did not want to have a relationship with her. She was a comrade. A trustworthy companion whom he owed so much to. The Rebel Army could not have existed without her and her Pocket Netherworld.
But to repay her through marriage? No. He could never allow that. He could never, would never fake such feelings of affection. He would never live a lie. How could he even begin to pretend to hold such feelings? How could Seraphina be content to live a life of lies?
He was ashamed to admit it, but for a moment, he feared that if he did not agree to marry Seraphina, she would have handed him, along with everyone else, over to Void. Her Netherworld had been turned into a state-of-the-art war machine, her father turned into a hideous beast in an attempt to disguise himself, and most importantly; she was flat broke. She had nothing left to lose.
Throughout their journey through Gorgeous, she had lied to them, knowing that she was leading them to their father's trap. It…was a little disheartening.
In the end, she defied her father's demands and released them, thankfully. And her heart grew as a result, as did her Overload Skill. Although, she was still treating men like objects to bend to her will. That would never change, he supposed.
Still, Seraphina had learned to value her comrades and companions over material items. Wealth could be rebuilt. Companionship was truly priceless.
Killia could only hope that she would also value his friendship over her desire to possess him. And he would like for her to stop sniping at Samuel, but maybe that was asking for too much. Their disdain for each other was mutual, anyway.
Speaking of Samuel, Killia hoped that he was resting. That injury…
"Whew," a somewhat familiar voice abruptly jolted Killia from his musings. "I wish we had this kind of security on Scorching Flame…"
Red Magnus immediately spun around and looked down the long gangway that reached back into the inner workings of Gorgeous and his eyes widen in surprise. "Panchos?! Wh-what in the red hells are you doing here?"
Panchos' head snapped up and he rushed forward. "M-Master Red Magnus, something terrible has happened!"
"Huh? What? What happened?"
"It's Samuel, sir," Panchos began, slightly breathless and talking with his hands. "Two maids, who happened to be informants for the Lost Army, blackmailed him into leaving the Pocket Netherworld and forced him into a meeting with a Lost informant!"
It took a moment for all the information to filter into Killia's head. "What?!"
Panchos jumped back, startled by Killia's outburst. "W-we tried to get into contact with you, b-but there was interference from this Netherworld. And I tried to get to you as soon as I could, b-but the security here was, well, you know…"
Oh, he knew about the security alright. And that meant they wasted too much time!
"Where is he?" Killia demanded. "Did you manage to keep track of him?"
"Y-yes! The prinnies immediately knew something was wrong and tracked him to a Netherworld. The two maids that went with him, however, we lost contact with. They never returned."
Killia could barely believe it. Traitors within the Rebel Army. Maids, no less. Wait, Maids? The only maids that reside within the Pocket Netherworld worked for…
"From what I understand, the maids responsible are extremely loyal to Madam Seraphina," Panchos revealed, responding as if he had read Killia's thoughts.
Everyone turned their gazes over toward Seraphina, who responded by turning white and taking a few shaky steps backwards.
"W-wait, what are you saying?" she stuttered.
Killia drew in a slow breath. No, he could not allow doubt to cloud his mind. Seraphina had just proven herself to be a loyal member of the Rebel Army. She had allowed her home world to become a stronghold for said army.
She could not be a traitor. She couldn't.
"You don't have to believe me," Panchos said. "Return to the Pocket Netherworld for yourself. Samuel is not there. And he wouldn't leave willingly, would he?"
No, he wouldn't. He made that promise to him before Killia left.
"We've wasted enough time here. Christo, activate the teleporter. We need to sort this mess out. Now."
"Understood."
In a matter of seconds, they were transported back to the main bridge of the Pocket Netherworld. The sight that greeted them was an unusual one; their dimensional gatekeeper prinny stood near the back of the bridge, while a line of Rebels stood in a line near the stairs. And at the top step of the stairs stood three maids.
Killia recognised a few of the Rebels to be those that Samuel had helped recently, whose comrades had been infected with Seedlings and had returned in hopes that Samuel could cleanse them and save their lives.
And he recognised the maids to be those who worked solely for Seraphina.
"Killia, you're back, dood!"
Killia turned to their gatekeeper. "What's the situation?"
"These maids tried to use the dimensional portal, but we prevented them, dood."
A deep frown marred Seraphina's features and she marched toward the line of Rebels and pushed past them. "You three, explain yourselves," she demanded.
A Maid dressed in blue regarded Seraphina with surprise. "M-Madam Seraphina, we were just doing some errands, like you asked of us."
"Errands?" Seraphina placed her hands on her hips. "I do not remember making any requests that require leaving the Pocket Netherworld."
"B-but, Madam Seraphina…"
Killia turned his attention back to their gatekeeper. "Do you have Samuel's location?"
"We've tracked him to a Netherworld, but we don't have his exact location, unfortunately. His phone has been discovered here in the Pocket Netherworld, dood."
While Killia would have preferred his exact location, tracking him to a single Netherworld was better than nothing. They just needed to inspect every Lost campsite and encampment. No matter how many there were.
"Where are these other two maids?" Seraphina demanded.
"The ones who accompanied Samuel through the portal haven't returned either, dood."
"There are others that are said to be extremely loyal who are in on this," Panchos added.
Killia tried to suppress his frustration, but it was difficult. They were wasting time. "The matter of these traitorous maids will be dealt with later. Prinny, I will head to this Netherworld right away."
"Understood, dood."
"Panchos, you stay here and if those maids come back, you have the authority to hold them under arrest, alright?"
"Understood, Master Red Magnus."
Christo turned to Killia and gave him a concerned look. "Let's hope that we get to Samuel before they take him away to Void Dark."
Yeah…
… … … … …
Samuel slowly opened his eyes. Lightheaded and confused, he gradually began to assess his condition and surroundings. He laid on his side, thin but sturdy chains restraining his arms to his sides and pinned his wrist behind his back. He rested on a make-shift futon in the middle of a tent, surrounded by glowing green geo-panels.
Chains were wound around his ankles, too. Pressing his lips together, he gathered up enough energy to lash out his legs and his foot immediately collided with an invisible wall.
Just as he had suspected. No Entry geo-panels. He was trapped.
The geo-blocks must be located somewhere outside the tent. Out of sight, out of range of his elemental attacks.
Samuel slumped against the futon and sighed. He really was a prisoner of the Lost. He truly was betrayed by Seraphina's maids and handed over to a band of Lost Soldiers. At least he could not say it was not a deed that went unpunished.
He could only hope that the Pocket Netherworld was safe.
A sharp pain in his side promptly reminded that Samuel was not only a prisoner, but an injured one, at that. And he doubted that his new hosts would be as merciful and generous as the healers back at the hospital.
Rolling his head to the side, he noted that the entrance of the tent was open, revealing the red trees and dark bridges, indicating that he was still on that same Netherworld the Maids had escorted him too. That was a bit of a relief.
There was still a chance of a rescue.
It was also a bit curious. Why hadn't they tried to take him back to Void?
Never mind him. Now that Samuel was more awake, he sensed that distinct sensation of Seedlings being in the vicinity.
Samuel subconsciously tensed when the Martial Artist from before suddenly appeared from the entrance and marched straight over to him.
"You're awake."
"Why am I still here?" Samuel asked, not having the energy to move.
"We can't hand you over to Demon Emperor Void Dark while injured," the Martial Artist explained with a frown. "It will reflect badly upon us. We have no choice but to wait until you have healed."
So that was why they had not transported him straight to Void. A small blessing in disguise. But that also meant he was likely to be in the hands of this particular band of Lost Soldiers for quite some time.
Then again, plenty of time for Killia to find him. And he would. He would do whatever it took to find him.
From behind the redheaded Martial Artist, another figure appeared. She was the Lady Samurai who killed the two maids without a second thought.
"Where are those Enhancers?" she asked.
The Martial Artist's frown deepened. "On the desk in the corner. Why?"
"I want to try one."
"We were told to only use them in battle."
"Oh, what's the harm? I want to simply try one. Maybe throw a few of the underlings around. We're stuck here until this guy heals, anyway."
Enhancers?
Seedlings…
"Can't you just find some prisoners or other inhabitants to attack instead?"
"Don't tell me what to do, Terril."
So, the Martial Artist's name was Terril, huh?
Samuel lifted his head up from the futon and watched as the Lady Samurai walked over to the desk. A small wooden crate sat on said desk, and she reached into it. As she pulled her hand back, she revealed a golden object in the shape of a stereotypical seedling with a blazing sun and water droplet etched into the side.
And his heart sank into the pit of his stomach.
He was right. Seedlings. Someone, perhaps three specific wardens, had been handing out Seedlings to the Lost Soldiers, telling them they were nothing more than Enhancers.
Why, he had not a clue. To feed the Tree of Death, that much he knew. But why they wanted to do so, he had no idea.
What was certain; the Lady Samurai, if she actually ingested that Seedling in her hand, was to be another victim.
The Lady Samurai sent Terril a smirk as she dashed out of the tent, leaving him behind to shake his head. Terril had his lips pressed together, a clear sign of frustration, as he stared out of the tent behind her.
Samuel had to find a way to warn them about the true maliciousness of Seedlings, but how could he in a way that would make them believe him. From the short, terse confrontation between the three enhanced Overlords previously, they had been warned about him specifically.
Begging and pleading would not work. He needed to try another tactic.
Maybe a more straightforward approach?
"What's her name?" Samuel asked, wearily.
Terril snapped his head toward him and arched an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I like to remember the names of all the victims of Enhancers. Rather, victims of Seedlings."
"Victims?"
It was evident that he had not had the pleasure of seeing anyone use a Seedling before. His and his fellow Lost Soldiers must not have seen many battles, or they had only just been given their Seedlings recently.
"You have no idea what these Seedlings are capable of, do you?"
Terril glared at him suddenly. "I've been warned about you. They're simply Enhancers."
Warned? Then he definitely got the Seedlings from one of the wardens.
"You don't have to listen to me. Unfortunately, you'll see for yourself."
Terril was going to learn a very harsh lesson. There is no way that Samuel could convince his comrade to reject the Seedling while she was enhanced. She was the one who actively sought it out. And there would be no one willing to help him to convince her to reject it.
She was doomed. That was the unfortunate truth.
"In six minutes, she will die. In agony. In six minutes, counting from the moment she ingested the Seedling, she will suddenly become completely still. She will then release a scream, a scream unlike anything you've ever heard in your life. She will claw at her chest as she writhers in complete agony, screaming about the pain, about being burned from the inside out. She will then fall completely limp, drained of colour, gasping for air as her limbs turn grey and slowly start to disintegrate. Then, from her crumbling corpse, a plant monster will appear. And from that monster, you will hear her voice, relive her dying moments over and over again."
Terril stared at him, his mouth agape. He then bristled wildly, his face beet red and his face twisted into a hateful scowl. "Don't talk about my sister like that!"
Sister?
That would make his experience so much worse.
Samuel sighed. "I'm so sorry."
Terril sneered at him; his hands balled into fists by his sides. It was clear that if it was not for the No Entry geo-panels acting as his prison, Terril would have attacked him in some way. Likely a kick to the stomach, or a stomp on his side to hurt him further.
It would not be a surprising reaction. Lost Soldiers knew nothing but violence.
Unable to inflict said violence, Terril spun on his heel and stormed out of the tent. Leaving Samuel alone, thankfully.
Samuel laid on the futon, idly tugging at his restraints. He heard startled cries and mocking laughter erupt somewhere outside his tent, and he knew that Terril's sister had ingested the Seedling. He uttered a sigh and idly began a countdown in his head.
Seconds ticked by. And then minutes.
Six minutes.
Then silence outside the tent.
And a scream.
A chilling, agonising, bone-chilling scream.
Samuel uttered another sigh and closed his eyes. Six minutes. Time was up. Terril and his fellow Lost Soldiers were about to be introduced to what a Seedling was actually capable of.
The sound of rapid footsteps prompted Samuel to open his eyes and he tilted his head toward the tent's entrance. He was not at all surprised when Terril reappeared, eyes wide and a light sheen of sweat across his forehead.
"I-It's just as you said," he stuttered out. "Wh-what do we do?"
Samuel drew in a deep breath and held it, using it to gather the strength needed to haul himself into a sitting position. Though his side, his body screamed at him in pain, he pushed through and look over at the Lost Soldier with weary empathy.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. There's nothing that can help her now. All you can do now is prepare to battle a Snap Draingon, the plant-like monster that will spring from her body."
"A what-?" A loud screech interrupted Terril's question and his head whipped around to look outside of the tent. He turned on his heel and bolted outside, toward the shouting and the noises of panic.
Samuel found himself uttering yet another sigh, his shoulder drooping forward with fatigue. He winced a second later when his injury promptly reminded him of its existence.
In truth, he did pity the Lost Soldiers. Watching someone they know, whether they liked them or not, scream in utter agony before fragment and disintegrate before their very eyes, and them have a shrieking monster appear from their corpse was not a pleasant sight. A traumatic one, in fact.
Especially for a sibling like Terril.
What was likely to be dawning on all the witnesses was the realisation that it could have happened to them, too.
Samuel lifted his head when he heard footsteps once more. And once again, it was Terril. Far, far paler than before and his limbs noticeably trembling.
"Th-these…Seedlings?" he stuttered. "They're all capable of this?"
Samuel nodded his head grimly. "Yes. These Seedlings, all of them, are capable of this. If you ingest one, this will happen to you. To all of you. To every single demon you know that has been given one. If they've ingested one, they're dead. That is all that there is to it."
"You…you knew this?"
"I know everything there is about Seedlings. And I'm not the only one."
There were three, potentially four others that could have revealed such information. If they were not malicious, of course.
"We were told they were Enhancers," Terril muttered, still shellshocked.
"I know." Every victim that Samuel had encountered (except for poor Ronny) had referred to them as Enhancers. "But you were lied to."
Lied to by the same three, possibly four malicious, manipulative demons. Two were thankfully dead, gotten what they rightfully deserved. And should Naraka rear his ugly head again, he would get what was coming to him, too.
Arch-Overlord would be a far more difficult beast to slay, however…
"But I honestly have no reason to lie to you about this," Samuel continued. "If I wanted you dead, I would have kept my mouth shut and let you all succumb to these Seedlings. I don't want that."
Terril looked at him in pure confusion. "Why?"
"Because no one deserves to die in such agony."
"My sister did."
"And I'm sorry about your sister. I truly am."
"They killed my sister…?" Terril whispered, sounding lost, confused. His face suddenly twisted into a look of utter rage. "That bastard. That bastard killed my sister!"
The Lost had brutally murdered millions of demons across the entire Netherworld. It was always funny how it was never an issue until it became personal.
He was not going to point that out, however. Terril's intense reaction could be a positive for him.
"Tell me. Where did you get these Seedlings? Who gave them to you?" Samuel interrogated, leaning forward on his knees. "Was it a ninja with a crisscross scar over his eye?"
"That's the bastard!" Terril snarled as he began to pace around the tent in a fury. "Enhancers. He said they were simply enhancers. Once we got our hands on you, and if other Rebels turned up, we would just use these 'enhancers' to defeat them. That's what he said."
Typical Naraka behaviour; sending in someone else to do the job, even if it killed them in the process.
"But he's not getting you!" Terril yelled. "Not after this!"
Perfect! Naraka's actions just earned him a detractor.
A high-pitched screech sliced through the air suddenly, causing a tremor to race down Samuel's spine, and he immediately whipped his head around toward the desk in the corner of the tent. The desk that held the crate where Terril's sister retrieved the Seedling that ultimately killed her.
He watched in horror as a Seedling with spindly insect legs scurried from the crate, followed by another. And another.
"What's happening?" Terril demanded as he instinctively pulled his body into a fighting stance.
"The Seedlings have turn parasitical!" Samuel shouted before he quickly remembered he was talking to someone who had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "It's another stage of a Seedling. They'll actively look for victims now. Do you have other Seedlings around your campsite? Did you get them at the same time?"
"A-ah, yes."
Damn it! Naraka knew exactly what he was doing.
"You need to destroy them. All of them. Don't let them anywhere near your mouth. And they're weak to elemental attacks. Warn your comrades. Hurry!"
Terril hesitated for a moment, weighing up whether or not to actually listen to Samuel's words. He was, after all, the enemy. Someone that their Lord Void Dark had demanded the capture of.
He turned on his heel and ran out of the tent. With a horde of Parasitical Seedlings on his heel. Yet as he fled outside, he ventured out into an already tumultuous disturbance, indicating that they had decaying Seedlings stored elsewhere. And they had all turned Parasitical at the same time.
They targeted anything that moved, and as long as Samuel stayed still, they should leave him be. The No Entry geo-panels should also protect him. So long as the geo-block remained in place. If that was removed, though, he was a goner.
But his restraints, his prison; there was nothing he could do to help those outside of the tent.
The Parasitical Seedlings all fled from the tent, allowing Samuel the chance to breath and he instantly began to tug at his bindings. He needed to find a way to free himself. Something could happen to the geo-block keeping him imprisoned. There was no way he was going to allow himself to become a victim of a Seedling.
He had come to far to become a victim now.
"Hellfire Shot!"
Samuel snapped his head up. That voice…
"Killia!"
