Online In Another World

Chapter 221 Strange Notes

As he looked around, he found himself in a wide, secluded room with a pool of blood occupying most of it, though ahead of him, he saw steps leading up to a stone floor and wooden door.

…I have to find the others. In a place like this…we can’t be separated from one another, he resolved.

Sifting through the unsavory pool, he found himself unnerved by its very existence, unknowing of where or what the blood came from.

He was forced to walk slowly through the pool, though finding himself pausing at an inexplicable sound–”PLOP”.

Something dropped into the water, causing him to spin around to see where, only to find a ripple to his far left in the crimson liquid.

Did something…? His thoughts lingered.

For the moment, he tried to ignore it, pushing on in hopes of reaching the other end of the room swiftly, though again, he froze as a noise joined him in the blood pool–”SWISH”.

As he quickly turned around, he found the liquid rippling in a line as if something was swimming beneath the surface, heading straight towards him.

“What?!” He began moving back.

The mana-attacking sickness left him feeling naked in the face of danger, prompting him to holster his staff and draw his sword as he readied himself for whatever creature was swimming straight towards him.

It came closer and closer, swiftly as it got within distance of him, prompting him to raise his sword to attempt to stab it through the blood, though just as he stabbed downward—

“Waaagh-!”

–He found his leg grabbed from under him, causing him to fall to his back before being aggressively tugged through the pool of blood. It seemed he misjudged the size of the creature, though as he was being pulled beneath the surface, he tried looking at the creature to decipher what his enemy was, but failed: the thickness and dark shade of the blood prevented him from seeing anything.

Even worse, he couldn’t swing his sword as the density of the crimson fluid made it impossible to generate any meaningful force, finding himself being suffocated in the repugnant liquid.

Whatever was latched onto his leg was powerful itself, at least above the level of a normal human, as the force at which it continuously dragged him through the pool, was disorientating to say the least.

Enough…! He thought.

Through the utilization of his own emotions and intent for violence, he summoned the unique blood embedded in the deepest depths of his heart.

BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.

Each pump of his heart flooded the draconic blood through his veins like molten through the grooves of a volcano.

[Dragonheart System Activated]

[Current Stage: Dragon Newt | 1/10]

Summoning the draconic strength within him, he swung his sword, empowering his own movements with the hidden force itself in an impromptu usage of Dragon Strike.

It was difficult to guess where the creature’s arm was, though as it was holding onto his leg, he could estimate, using that information to swing his sharp blade and cut straight through its arm.

He knew it collided with the flesh of the unseen foe of his as he stopped being dragged, allowing him to finally return to the surface.

“Gah–!” He gasped out, spitting out foreign blood.

From the heat given off from the expulsion of draconic force, steam exuded atop the blood pool. It wasn’t until moments after regaining his breath did whatever was lurking in the abhorrent pond surfaced as well.

“…What the hell is that?” He mumbled.

It was somewhat humanoid in its bone structure, functioning as a bipedal, though it resembled a fish with gills and blood-red scales, standing two meters tall with a now missing arm.

If he had to give it a name, it’d be a “fish man”–simple, but it was what came to his mind at that moment.

“Grlrlrlrl!” It released a yell that was more like a gargle.

“Yeah, well, come on then!” He challenged.

The fish beast was clearly angered by its loss of an arm, prompting it to rush through the blood water with swiftness unimpeded by the essense of the liquid. It swam like an olympic champion, looking towards him with its bulging, pure-white eyes that possessed no irises.

I still can’t focus my mana well at all, so…I’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way, pops! He thought.

Preparing himself for the encounter, he stood his ground in preparation of the frontal assault before the marine beast suddenly dived into the blood right before finding him.

“What–?!” Emilio looked in surprise.

It was surprising that the fish-brained creature had anything resembling a tactical mind, though it was undoubtedly true as it faked him out, swimming around him before launching back up as he spun around.

Give me a break, he thought.

Just as he turned to face it, the fish-headed beast opened its mouth before spraying out boiling water towards him.

Though he acted to evade it, part of it touched his left arm, causing his skin to bubble and boil at the touch.

“Argh!” He let out in pain.

It was scathing; burning through his skin then his flesh within moments, though settling down and leaving his arm to heal as he found the creature gone from his vision again.

Dammit, I looked away for one second! He thought.

Blood rippled around him, coming from a different angle each time as he turned side-to-side, looking for the boil-spitting lifeform.

After suffering from the burns that now healed, he found himself impatient, wanting to reunite with his companions and finish this as he gripped the handle of his blade tightly, causing the black veins of the Dragonheart blood to press against his skin.

In that moment, his senses were heightened like that of a predatorial beast, listening in to the subtlest echoes of force through the blood around him.

There, he predicted.

Just then, the gilled beast emerged from the crimson flood, attempting to lunge straight towards him but Emilio was already midway through swinging his sword.

SQUELCH.

In a brutal, but efficient action, the silver-and-black blade he wielded easily carved across the creature’s neck, flinging its head from its shoulders.

“…Done,” he quietly said.

Finishing it off, he relinquished the Dragonheart state as his veins settled and his eyes returned to their normal shade.

A sigh left his lips after the obnoxious and frightening encounter, watching as the fish-man’s limp body fell into the pool of blood. That sight prompted him to take his leave as he trudged through the pool, stepping onto the stone platform on the other side of the room.

“…Huff…”

Looking down, his outfit was entirely soaked in the blood, dripping from him as his nose scrunched from the rancid nature of it.

It took a moment of complete concentration, though with the effects of the black gas dwindling, he was able to conjure a spiral of wind around himself.

WHOOSH.

The summoning of wind allowed him to dry himself off the best he could, huffing out before moving towards the mysterious door.

“…Alright. Let’s get going,” he mumbled.

Opening the door, what he found beyond it was simply a dark corridor, bringing him to carefully begin moving down its length with caution keeping him on his toes.

The dreary atmosphere of the corridor didn’t help to ease his mind in any shape or form, though he soon found himself in the next room.

“What…?” He found himself uttering in reaction to what inhabited the room.

There were dozens of cages, all in various shapes in sizes, though what was inside of them is what made him freeze: inhuman creatures sat behind metal bars; deformed goblins, kobolds, orcs, and even a minotaur like creature, sitting quietly but salivating at the sight of the young human.

…A monster prison? What the hell? Is this part of the Guild Foundation? No…they’d just kill these, right? He questioned.

Slowly passing by the cages, the goblins banged on the bars, rabid and violent, forcing him to keep a safe distance from the reptilian beasts that tried spitting acid at him.

Walking through the monster prison, he found tables containing jars of scales, teeth, and appendages kept from decomposing, all taken from the monsters. On these tables, he stumbled across papers laid out, drawing his curiosity as he picked them up.

[“Day 320: It’s not so bad here. Actually, it’s better than ever. They believe they’ve locked me in this valley as a prison–oh no, no, no; this is my paradise. Here, I have ultimate freedom and limitless subjects, toys of my choosing. I do find the name they’ve given me to be quite fitting…the ‘Collector’. I like it.”]

He found himself uneased by what he was reading, holding the papers that were faded and stained in unknown fluids.

“‘Collector’? Who’s that…?” He mumbled to himself, continuing to read.

[“Day 1040: It’s coming together. I’ve done it. After years of meddling with the flesh of my toys, discarding them into the Crimson Bath, it’s come together: my masterpiece.”]

[“Day 1118: Today, I made my first adjustments to the ‘Masterpiece’–when it gained consciousness, it seemed to lack the function to perceive, unable to garner any of its natural senses. I will fix this.”]

[“Day 1320: I allowed the Masterpiece to walk freely around the laboratory. Perhaps I was a bit impatient…It tore me to pieces multiple times, and ripped apart dozens of my toys. For now, I am keeping him locked away. I have figured out that sight is what triggers him: for now, I will keep a cloth over his cage. That seems to keep him stable.”]