39. Master and Apprentice

Although victory was ultimately achieved, the experience was far from pleasant for Yvette.

From the moment she first engaged the six-armed demon, she had been contemplating how to kill this third-tier aberration, which possessed such blinding speed that it was nearly impossible to pin down. Her conclusion was to use herself as bait to restrict its movements and then finish it off with a point-blank blast.

As is well known, however, theory and practice are two different things. A plan conceived entirely in one’s imagination is bound to encounter unforeseen complications in execution.

For instance, in her urgency to ensure a lethal strike, she poured all her mana into the attack, leaving herself almost no reserve. Furthermore, the elemental fusion explosion was far more powerful than anticipated, and with no discrimination between friend or foe, it shattered her magical defenses as well.

When the explosion subsided, the six-armed demon’s physical form had been obliterated, leaving only a tiny mana core that flew far into the distance. Yvette, meanwhile, was slammed into the ground like a spiked basketball, creating a deep crater in the carpet of flesh and mud.

As the dust settled, Yvette lay at the center of the pit. Her clothes were torn, her skin stained with crimson, and she was covered in grime. Only in her dark red eyes did her emotions remain steady, like a heartless machine.

She struggled to stand and staggered toward the corpse of the jellyfish mist-beast on the periphery. The six-armed demon’s mana core had vanished, and she needed to extract the jellyfish’s core; otherwise, her "Regeneration Pump" would be unable to contain the spread of the aberrant factors.

Plans truly could not keep up with changes; mental simulations were never enough, and her execution had been poor. She would need to leave a larger safety margin in the future. As she reflected on this, every bone in her body felt as though it had been snapped, and she couldn't help but wince as she walked.

Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps alerted her.

She turned her head and saw the woodlouse queen, which had managed to rise once more. Seeing the murderous intent radiating from the creature’s six scarlet eyes, her heart sank.

During the earlier battle, the arrival of the six-armed demon had prevented her from delivering the killing blow to the woodlouse queen. Throughout the fight, the situation had been so intense and nerve-wracking that it consumed her entire focus, causing both her and the demon to temporarily forget that the creature lying motionless in the distance might still be alive.

The woodlouse queen was in poor condition, of course. It had already been nursing wounds—likely inflicted by the six-armed demon—and before it could recover, it had been relentlessly bombarded by Yvette’s spells. Its massive insectoid lower body was charred and shattered, leaking viscous pus with every step.

Yet, this evidently did not prevent it from becoming the beneficiary of this situation.

*What bad luck,* Yvette thought, her heart sinking further. Along this journey, she had faced a "Mechanical Tyrant," a "Night-Stalking Demon," a "Jellyfish Mist-Beast," a "Woodlouse Queen," and the six-armed demon—the strongest third-tier aberration on the island. Yet, she had only secured the Night-Stalking Demon’s core, regaining a pathetic 20-odd points of mana. She had either missed or failed to retrieve the others, and now, exhausted and spent, she was helpless against even a half-dead woodlouse queen. It was sheer misfortune.

She stopped and looked at the approaching queen, standing motionless as if waiting for death. Just as the queen’s humanoid face twisted into a cruel expression and it raised its scythe-like limb, Yvette shoved a dim, blue-and-white runic ring directly into its mouth.

In an instant, the queen’s smile froze. A moment later, its entire body was pierced by blinding lightning, and it slowly collapsed.

Simultaneously, Yvette’s body lost its final support, and she slumped softly to the ground.

That was the last of her mana, cast at the cost of abandoning the maintenance of her Regeneration Pump.

Now, the dark and tyrannical aberrant factors were surging, churning, invading, and assimilating every vessel within her body.

It was the signal that she had reached the end of her life.

...

The sky was dim, with heavy, charcoal-colored clouds pressing down upon the horizon. Violent winds howled through the mountain ranges, whipping up dead leaves and dust—a sign that a torrential rain was imminent.

Deep within the withered forest, Rosalind gasped for air as she used her alloy blade to cut down a few approaching aberrations. She wiped the sweat from her forehead; though her expression was weary, her eyes remained bright and spirited.

After killing the Shepherd Sheep, she found herself in unexpectedly good condition. Though her mana bar was empty, the mana core dropped by the sheep had replenished her combat strength almost to its peak.

Such an excellent performance—if her teacher knew, she would surely be happy, wouldn't she? She would surely praise her, right?

*Ah!*

To receive the triple recognition of teacher, guardian, and idol—there was no greater happiness in this world!

Speaking of which, she wondered how things were going on the teacher's side. The fog had suddenly dissipated, so things must have gone smoothly...

She checked her status.

She had replenished her energy, but had since encountered a few second and first-tier aberrations, leaving her with about forty or fifty points of mana. However, the energy for her alloy blade had been exhausted, which was a significant blow; her combat effectiveness was halved, likely leaving her with less than a third of her peak state.

Her magitech hoverboard had been destroyed in the battle, so she would have to rely on her own two legs for the rest of the journey.

Oh, and she still had a few elemental grenades in her pouch. Their power was about the same as basic spells, but their primary purpose was to be launched into the sky, using colors like red, yellow, blue, and green to signal "Requesting Aid," "Warning," "Retreat," and "Victory."

But since she hadn't seen any signal flares in the sky for so long, did that mean her teacher was also locked in a stalemate?

Could a "Lord" have successfully been born, causing her teacher such trouble?

Driven by conjectures about the tense situation and concern for her teacher, she sprinted forward, passing through the forest that had turned a deep purple, until she reached an open area covered in a carpet of flesh.

There, she saw the massive, limp corpse of the woodlouse queen, and beside it, a slender, silver-haired figure so frail she looked as if she might snap in the wind.

"Teacher!!!" Her pupils constricted. Instinctively, she dashed over and pulled her teacher into her arms.

It seemed her anxious call had some effect, for a moment later, she saw her teacher’s eyelids flutter open, revealing gray, numb, and lifeless red eyes.

"Teacher, how are you? Are you alright?" Though she had only a sliver of mana left, she didn't hesitate to take her teacher’s hand, palm to palm, trying to transfer her energy—the Regeneration Pump was a continuous self-rescue spell and could not be cast on others.

Unexpectedly, her teacher did not accept it.

"The aberrant factors in my body have exceeded the limits of the Regeneration Pump; they have already spread," her teacher said softly. Her words hit Rosalind like a bolt of lightning.

She knew what this meant. Even someone as powerful as her teacher could not resist the erosion of such malevolent things.

Her eyes turned red in an instant, and a heavy weight pressed upon her chest. Then, she heard her teacher continue in a flat tone, as if she were completely indifferent to her own life: "I will try to contain the aberration, but you must leave here immediately."

Before she could finish, a hair-raising rustling sound surged from all directions. Although the woodlouse queen was dead, the hive remained. Without a queen, the hive could still issue orders to the surrounding area, summoning an army composed of low-tier aberrations.

Clearly, if they did not leave now, they would perish in the tide of insects, devoured until not a bone remained.

"I will take you back," Rosalind said, her voice filled with the weight of a vow.

"Think carefully," her teacher looked at her. "You still have family. You still have a chance to go home."

At the mention of home, Rosalind’s heart wavered for a moment.

But it lasted only a second before the stray thought vanished. She fell silent, hoisted her teacher’s terrifyingly light body onto her back, held her steady with one hand, and gripped the cold hilt of her blade with the other. She charged toward the predetermined retreat route.

That was a path planned before the operation, leading to an abandoned town where a magitech vehicle had been prepared in advance.

Since the insect tide was coming from behind, there were few aberrations on their path. The sporadic one or two that attacked from the shadows were easily swatted aside.

Even so, for her current state, it was a daunting task. Carrying her teacher made movement difficult, and enemies could attack from any direction. Aside from the insect tide behind them, flying aberrations appeared in the sky, spraying scorching acid onto the ground. Against this, she was completely helpless, save for her desperate attempts to dodge.

Gradually, the clouds in the sky grew thicker, coalescing into ink-black masses, and the long-brewing storm finally poured down.

The cold rain soaked her clothes, making the rugged, muddy path as slippery as fish scales.

As they rounded a valley entrance, a downward slope appeared ahead. Rosalind’s foot slipped, and she tumbled down, rolling several times before her forehead struck a jagged rock. She couldn't help but let out a stifled cry of pain.

But she didn't care about herself. Suppressing the agony, she struggled to her feet and rushed to check on her teacher. She found the silver-haired girl with eyes tightly shut, her chest no longer rising and falling. She looked like a broken doll abandoned by the world; apart from the gray-black spreading rapidly beneath her skin, there was no sign of life.

"Teacher...?"

No response.

In an instant, time seemed to stop. Rosalind felt her heart tremble violently, and rain flowed into her eyes, blurring her vision.

Even now, she could not believe that her teacher might be gone, just as a little girl who lost her parents in an accident might still hope that her parents would call her to wake up the next morning.

The six years she had spent with her teacher accounted for more than a third of her life. In her heart, her teacher had never been just a teacher; she was an idol, a benefactor, and kin. She was completely unprepared and had no idea how to face a world without her teacher—a desolate, silent world where she was all alone.

A raw, hoarse sound, unlike anything she had ever made, escaped her throat. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the hilt of the alloy blade, bringing the steel to life as it cut through the cold rain and the wailing wind.

After repelling wave after wave of aberrant creatures, she knelt exhausted beside her teacher, reaching out to wipe the mud from her face.

As her consciousness grew increasingly hazy, a serene, liberated smile suddenly appeared on her beautiful cheeks.

She thought, *If Death is destined to take my teacher today, then let it take me as well.* Her teacher was always so lazy, so laid-back; she didn't even know how to cook, and she needed someone to call her to wake up. If she moved into the underworld alone, she would surely be uncomfortable. Someone had to be there to look after her.

So—

She would stay here. She would stay here forever, until her blood soaked into this rotting earth, until her very marrow drained away, until her soul-fire flickered out in the cold wind, and she and her teacher became two unclaimed, huddled skeletons, leaning against one another.

The wind would carry their story away and whisper it to the next traveler from another world.