Chapter 540 - Matter of national security

A week later another notification pops up.

Warning! The 4th wave is now in progress.

The only person remaining in the white cube is me. The rest of group 4 is let outside, likely confirmed not to be mimics.

Well, this is getting funny, isn’t it?

***

Within my mind space, I join Whitey, who is this time dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized black hoodie. The kind of clothes you might wear to the gym.

This time I recognize this area very well.

A grassy field encircled by trees. At its center, within a circular patch of grass, stands a group of 24 demons, all visibly shocked and glancing around in bewilderment at their surroundings.

There’s also the white-haired demon I recognize. He’s only a few years younger than the current Whitey. Just like before, he struggles to walk, and his heartbeat is irregular—broken—unlike the rest of the demons here.

But the younger Whitey we watch calms down and fixes it. His heartbeat becomes more controlled and his movement smoother as he forces his body under control.

Then, from behind the patch of trees, a wolf steps out. The beast’s brown fur is matted with dried blood, missing an ear and bearing a gruesome scar on its snout. It fixes its unnerving gaze on the shocked demons, eyes glowing with an eerie light.

This massive creature is tall enough that its eyes are at the same height as mine.

It growls and takes a menacing step toward the group. A huge, car-sized wolf, with a strange text hovering above its head.

[Wolf - lvl 2]

I sit down to watch the memory, and Whitey sits next to me.

“How many of you survived the first floor?” I ask.

“Fifteen.”

“Damn, that’s more than us.”

“You wouldn’t expect demons to be weaker than humans, right?” he smirks as we watch a group of demons quickly organize and beat the shit out of the wolf, which tries to escape after barely managing to kill one of them and getting wounded by the others.

They pile on top of it, using kinetic energy, thermal, even lightning, and gravitational powers at times to damage the poor beast.

As the wolf escapes into the forest, a few of the fastest demons follow it with wide grins on their faces.

Whitey laughs. “Oh, I almost forgot this part. Two out of the four following the wolf will die in the forest. For some reason, I find that hilarious.”

“Very funny,” I confirm. “I still find it annoying that the difficulty of the floors seems to stay the same no matter how powerful the races are before the tutorial.”

Whitey shrugs. “So what. There are a lot of weaker demons or other races that survive this floor because they were stronger than humans before the tutorial. Humans get culled more.”

“Oh,” I understand his logic, “so the average level of a human in Beyond or Hell difficulty might be higher than the average demon because all the weaker humans died on the 1st floor, while plenty of demons survived?”

“I never said that. Humans are pathetic. If a demon loses to them, he was weak anyway.”

“Sure, sure,” I wave it off.

For a while, we watch as the group organizes, and a few demons even fight, likely for the leader’s spot. The 1st floor Whitey doesn’t join any of these fights, which draws a lot of disgust from the usually power-hungry demons who look down on him. But I know how he fights—I know it very well. Out of all the demons there, Whitey is probably the most bloodthirsty, but because of his condition, he’s also very patient.

“I think they mostly cleared me of being a mimic, and they’re only keeping me in the cube because of you or something similar,” I say.

“It would be fucking funny if they weren’t able to confirm that you’re not a mimic 100% because of me and killed you because of that.” His red eyes shine with deep amusement as he watches his younger self.

I think it over and end up agreeing. I also think it would be funny—in a twisted, deeply unfortunate way, but still funny.

***

The 20th day inside the fuckallthelumoransgetmeoutofhere cube finally passes.

[Mana Manipulation - lvl 62 > Mana Manipulation - lvl 63]

[Mana Domain - lvl 58 > Mana Domain - lvl 59]

[Focus - lvl 60 > Focus - lvl 61]

[Eclipse - lvl 18 > Eclipse - lvl 19]

[Perception - lvl 57 > Perception - lvl 58]

[Bone Knitting - lvl 32 > Bone Knitting - lvl 33]

There were some level ups, all gained by using skills that can be used inside my body or directed inward. It is also the day I decide to use stay tokens to go to Beyond.

Fuck lumorans. Screw my handler’s warning. I’d rather deal with the system’s anger than with this for any longer.

That also makes me wonder how the floor natives would react to me just disappearing and then appearing again in a day or two. Part of me thinks they’d notice and burn me at the stake while screaming, “Witch!”—or in this case, “Mimic!”

Another part of me thinks the system would likely take care of it somehow. Or, if it decided to punish me, it’d just let them do whatever they wanted. Yeah, that sounds like the system I hate.

As I lie on my back in the exact center of the cube, staring at the white metal ceiling, I watch the timer count down for the past few hours.

That’s also when I hear that voice, an hour and forty-three minutes before I plan to leave for Beyond.

“Human mercenary Nathaniel. You will follow me now.” Just these simple words spoken by Jareth, Champion Owain’s disciple.

For a moment I think of ignoring him, but I stand up and head toward the place where the rest of group 4 exited. The door that was previously impossible to see in the white wall is now open, and the tall, slim lumoran stands there.

“Hurry up. Because of you, we had to call on one of the Lord Absolute’s disciples to examine you and the Signature Isolation Cube. So don’t waste my time as well.”

“So I’m not a mimic?”

“Apparently not. Don’t ask me for details; I don’t know any and didn’t ask for any. I only follow my master’s orders.”

Damn, that guy almost sounds like a reasonable person. Maybe I should be nicer to him. Anyone who avoids the responsibility of thinking as much as he does can’t be that bad.

“Good then.” Immediately after I step out, I create [Mana Crown] over my head to start storing mana.

I also reactivate my Restriction Training Emblem—previously messed up by the field—and form two evil pyramids to follow me.

I feel a wave of relief.

He glances at my display and shakes his head. After a few more steps, he stops and turns to me, taking a more formal pose.

“Human mercenary Nathaniel Gwyn of the mercenary group Angry Kittens. Due to your achievements, you and your group will be placed deep within our territory for your safety. You are to be granted a half a year stay allowance there. You shall receive a villa to live in comfortably. You will be given resources, within limits, that you can discuss with a lumoran technician, who will be assigned as your liaison with lumoran forces. You will also receive a monthly allowance at a level proportional to the services you have provided us.”

I let him talk. There is no one else around—just a few buildings and one tall tower in the distance. All of it is in a valley between two mountains.

Jareth continues, “For now, you are not permitted to leave our planet. Instead, we will reward you in a way that you find fair and we consider appropriate, given your services. You are expected to not discuss what happened. Breaking that silence will be dealt with swiftly, as though it were a matter of national security. You will not be given any more information about what happened, but know that you have rendered great help to the entire lumoran race. Even though it won’t be publicly celebrated and must remain secret, you have our Lord Absolute’s thanks, Champion Owain’s thanks, and my own as well. Thank you.”

After that, he lowers his head in front of me. He does so without hesitation or shame but keeps that formal air about him.

There are no fanfares, no one thanking me besides him, and honestly, I don’t feel like I did that much. Sure, Leth would never have survived escaping that place on his own. The cold, or the abundant mimic spawns, or even the lesser mimics would have killed him—never mind the two Greater Mimics.

But hey, I’m not going to mention that.

“Sounds good. How many resources will I get?”

He starts walking, and I follow him.

“I assure you, the amount of resources will be adequate, given your substantial contributions. I won’t say more because it’s classified.”

“I see, I see. My sword?”

“That evil thing? We had a few of our technicians fix the sheath so the forces it contains wouldn’t leak out or breakthrough. We respected your ownership and did not touch the blade itself. If you have complaints about that level of interference, please mention it to the head technician, and we will compensate you.”

“It’s fine. Just give me some materials.”

“Please discuss that with the head technician or with the technician assigned as your liaison.”

“Sure,” I say, giving up and just following him through the seemingly empty base.

Part of me wonders if this half a year ‘holiday’ in their inner territory is just a way to keep us ‘locked’ while giving us some luxuries. After what happened, I can’t believe they’re one hundred percent certain about their mimic-detection methods.

We reach a teleportation array inside one of the highly defended buildings, passing through multiple protective layers. Even here, I see no other lumoran—likely all sent away so they wouldn’t see me. Only when we get to the array is there a lumoran who activates it. It connects to the champion’s web with what I’m sure are insanely intricate checks.

From the nearby table, I grab Fracture and my belongings, then we step into the teleportation array.

That happens two more times, each array more fortified, sending us deeper into lumoran territory. An entire castles is dedicated just to this. Part of me tries to gauge how far we’re traveling with each teleport, estimating mana requirements. Hundreds of miles? Thousands?

After the last teleport, we continue on foot, running at speeds on par with racing cars. Jareth even has to hold himself back a bit so I don’t lose sight of him, even with all the kinetic energy I’m using.

It’s not often I meet someone capable of that kind of speed. Hell, I’m sure he would still be faster if I tried flying and he stayed on foot.

After a while, he stops and leaves me, but not before pointing out where to go and giving one final warning not to leave the area, which is likely about the size of a small country.

From what I can see, there’s no obvious spying infrastructure, so I’d guess they just have alarms set in case we cross a boundary. There’s also a high chance they put tracking marks on us, which would be more sensible and easier. But overall, I think we’ll have at least some privacy here. After our time in the cube, we definitely need it.

I pass between two towering mountains and step into the valley. From the top of a hill, I take in the sight stretched out before me.

A massive waterfall thunders down into a wide, clear lake, with a river snaking its way out, carving through the valley below. The hills around me are a mix of dense trees swaying gently in the breeze, colorful flowers blanketing stretches of ground, and vibrant green grass that looks almost unreal. One hill catches my eye—at its peak lies a huge, polished stone circle, clearly reinforced for sparring.

Not far from the lake, a manor comes into view, tucked between the hills. The buildings are simple, made of sturdy wood, yet the surrounding area elevates their charm. Several gardens dot the landscape. The largest one, right at the center, is dominated by a towering tree. Its bark is smooth and white, and its leaves shimmer in shades of yellow and gold, as though the tree itself is bathed in perpetual sunlight.

It’s a view straight out of a fairy tale.

I move closer to the cliff’s edge, sit with my legs dangling, and wait.

The signature that made itself known to me appears soon, and with a few nimble jumps, she reaches me and her sharp canines show in a bright smile as she gets at the top of the cliff.

Her long white hair contrasts with golden eyes, while gray ears and a tail add to the striking look. A deep but healed scar runs horizontally across the nose.

“Long time no see, feral one.”

***

Next Chapter