Chapter 101: Necromancers’ Plan
While Samuel was taking his time beating Moon up without a pause, Ed walked down to the arena silently.
He stood a few steps away, wordlessly observing.
After watching for a moment, he realized Samuel wasn’t moving aimlessly. He seemed to be picking the spots where he was hitting and not overdamaging one spot more than another.
He even punched Moon’s eyes a couple of times.
After watching for a little longer, Ed rolled his eyes. "Isn’t that enough?" he felt like he needed to ask.
Moon had lost consciousness a while ago; his face was a bloody mess, and his body was as purple as his foot a few days ago.
He was hardly recognizable.
Samuel was making sure not to leave the smallest spot on Moon’s body uninjured, giving him a thorough beating while keeping him suspended midair with his channeled shockwaves after every hit.
"Almost," he answered briefly before giving Moon another round of beating one last time.
A few seconds later, Samuel landed the last hit of the day, finally retracting his shockwaves and leaving Moon to fall.
"Gotcha." Ed instantly leaned forward and caught the unconscious, bruised, bleeding Moon.
His long hair clung to his face and neck by the trailing dry blood. The still-running blood instantly dyed his chef’s clothes red.
Ed carried Moon on his shoulder. "I really didn’t know it was that painful," he spoke truthfully; his tone was troubled.
"It’s part of the process he must go through," Samuel sternly answered.
Ed sighed softly. "We have so much to talk about now."
"Berserk, unreasonable bloodlust, partial awareness, abnormal Echo consistency." Samuel counted them one by one; his mind was also occupied with these issues.
Ed pursed his lips. "What the hell is going on on the first floor? How did he get Berserk even?" It was one thing pressing on his mind for a while now; everything else came later.
Some common knowledge didn’t align perfectly with the situation, which was the reason they had unanswered questions.
"He’s too strong for berserk, and he’s still alive after going berserk," Samuel commented, stating the obvious, for himself and Ed at least.
It was common knowledge that berserk was usually a trait that would only awaken in those who were weak and under suppression.
It was usually a one-way ticket to hell; those who went berserk never returned to their sane selves again.
They couldn’t stop and couldn’t feel pain.
Yet, they get bonus stats, which makes the trait problematic.
"Where did he awaken it? It’s impossible to awaken on the first floor..." Ed rubbed his forehead. "Traits need the system to be functional."
He thought for a moment. The first floor didn’t have access to the system; thus, Moon couldn’t have had berserk on the first floor.
Unless—
"Could it be the trial?" Ed suspected.
Samuel started walking toward the stairs. "His first trial is more problematic than it seems," he admitted readily.
"He’s strong enough to solo the highest recorded number of enemies." Ed wasn’t entirely convinced.
"What if his trial being irregular is the problem?" Samuel retorted once again.
Ed went silent for a moment; he gave everything a thought. "Unless he wasn’t born on the first floor and brought there later, it can only be the trial," he concluded.
Still, they had no way of knowing if Moon was truly of the first floor... Only his status window could tell, and one’s personal status window could never be seen by another.
He realized this wasn’t the issue, however. "More importantly, how can he return on his own, and how does he fight like this?"
"It’s either another trait keeping him from reaching the point of self-destruction, or something else."
"Like what?"
Samuel turned around and looked at Ed behind him. "Like death echo, like the seal," he spoke in a complicated tone.
"Like someone leaving something on his mind to keep it in control," Samuel assumed, before standing still all of a sudden.
"You better know, we may be contributing to a disaster... We could be getting played by someone right now through this kid." His tone turned sharper.
Ed turned his head, looking at Moon’s dangling butt on his shoulder. "It could also be the other way around."
Samuel’s questioning yet sharp gaze met Ed’s.
Ed slowly gave his piece. "We could be unknowingly interfering with the natural progress he could have gone through, right?"
Samuel didn’t answer; he didn’t seem convinced.
"It’s a gut feeling," he pressed on.
"Which gut feeling?"
"Remember the reports of experiments on children we received a long time ago? Where else would necromancers hide these children and find a place to suppress the progress of Death Echo corruption?"
Ed didn’t answer him directly. "You picked fights with them more than we ever did," Ed reminded him first, before asking, "These necromancers, do you think they can make a kid like that one?"
"Why wouldn’t they?" Samuel disagreed. "Do you not feel how much time has passed? Do you think we’re still stuck in the pa—"
"DAMMIT, LISTEN TO ME, YOU STUPID EDGY BASTARD!" Ed snapped. "Do you think necromancers would send a clueless kid like this idiot to us?"
Ed tried to reason. "Do you think the same necromancers who’ve been living well all these years untraceable inside the Tower, surviving for so long, would let their greatest creation be discovered and overtaken so simply?"
"Is that also your gut feeling?" Samuel mocked.
"Yes." Ed didn’t feel offended. "The same gut feeling that gathered the three of us together and led us to the very top."
Samuel shook his head lightly.
Ed’s tone sharpened. "Don’t think this chef’s coat has turned me into a different person."
Samuel’s face darkened; he turned his head away.
Ed, on the other hand, wasn’t done. "Samuel, your gut feeling got us locked here for a few hundred years." He looked again at Moon’s dangling butt. "I mean, it could be worth it if my gut feeling says so."
Samuel didn’t speak again; he was too tired to argue with Ed, who seemed to be full of energy and more angry than usual.
Still, they had more to discuss. Ed didn’t ask immediately; instead, he gave both himself and Samuel a moment.
After walking for a while, as slowly as they were going, Ed asked with a newfound light tone, "Right, what about the bloodlust? Could this brat have killed more than us?"
"The years we spent at the edge of the human domain alone are worth more than thousands of kills; he couldn’t have broken that number..."
Sigh~
Ed nodded. "We did indeed kill many there... I think I killed hundreds of those bastards every day."
"It could be his ascension gift," Samuel guessed.
"Nah, I know his... I’m not telling you, though." Ed waved his hand dismissively.
"I don’t want to know."
"Samuel, don’t you think you’re finally getting more talkative these days?"
"Am I?"
"Don’t you think it’s also about time you shave that mustache, too?"
Samuel didn’t answer; his face suddenly looked more tired.
"Let’s drink beer tonight. I’ve saved some since... hmmmm... how long has it been?"
"Fine."
While walking, Ed suddenly stopped.
He looked in a certain direction and squinted his eyes. "That ashspawn is getting some good stuff," he exclaimed.
Samuel raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.
"These blue bastards are still too damn rich."
"Everyone is rich if they save money."
"We poor bastards."