I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 575 Experiments and Hunting
Eastern beach.

This is a place that the elves and the Bagnian fleet have deliberately forgotten and rarely mention.

Before it was forgotten, it was the dream of barefoot elven children, the dawn most beloved by the poets of Mooncrown City.

Its sand grains are like crushed moonlight, and the sea breeze, carrying silver dew and morning songs, gently caresses each seashell, as if whispering a prayer for the world.

Back then, the elves called it... the Breath of Eluvia.

It's now called Forgotten Beach.

The reason it's called that is because there's a group of players here... using demon flesh and blood as resurrection materials, actively embracing the abyss, making even demons think they're evil.

While the players in the First Fleet were busy PvE with demons in Mooncrown City, those on this beach weren't idle either. They were busy building fortifications, conducting experiments, and resurrecting the fallen.
Perhaps because the battle situation in Mooncrown City was enough to give the demons a headache, or perhaps because even the demons were not too willing to deal with this group of evil players, the actions of these demon players were not disturbed too much.

Shanghai Pirate King, as one of the few normal people among this group of demonic players, and their nominal leader, felt a bit of a headache.

The resurrection efforts of the demon players did not go very smoothly.

The Mechanicus Church, serving as a resurrection point, has been built, and three churches have been constructed. Theoretically, this should meet the resurrection needs of 8,000 players, and it will only take about ten days to resurrect all those who died in battle.

However... the resurrection of the demon player is not normal.

Do you remember the Abyss Dragon?

They are trying to use the dragon's flesh and blood to resurrect other players and to strengthen themselves.

The Shanghai Pirate King's headache reached a new peak when he saw the three Mechanicus churches billowing thick smoke and emitting ominous roars.

One of the church doors was wide open, and the steam engine inside the hall was vibrating violently. Its iconic metal tunnel, used to "spit out" resurrected bodies, was not steadily sliding out intact bodies, but was intermittently and painfully vomiting.

"Pfft... Boom!"

A body that could barely be identified as human, but covered in irregular bone spurs, resembling a human-shaped sea urchin, was ejected and crashed onto the beach.

It struggled twice, its bony spikes suddenly elongated, and then...

"boom!"

It exploded like an overloaded balloon, splattering bits of flesh and bone all over the face of I Love Science, who was watching and recording nearby.

"Record: The 73rd resurrection operation using standard units of dragon flesh (muscle tissue), product code: 'Unstable Bursting Sea Urchin', duration 7 seconds, self-destruct power approximately equal to a standard hand grenade."

"I love science" wiped his face and scribbled quickly in his notebook, his tone even carrying a hint of admiration.

"The artistry of the explosion has been enhanced."

Meanwhile, in the hall of another resurrection church, several players were laughing hysterically at a newly "born" companion.

The player didn't explode, so his resurrection was, in a sense, quite "successful".

He possessed a majestic abyssal demon head covered in dark scales, with jagged horns, pupils flashing with a terrifying red light, and the ability to spew sparks from its mouth.

The problem is... his body is still that of the ordinary human player he was before.

A huge, ferocious dragon head, exuding dragon might, is connected to a slightly thin, naked human torso, creating a visual effect comparable to a toothpick balancing a watermelon.

"Brother, brother..."

The player with the dragon head and human body tried to speak, but the enormous dragon head made his voice muffled and distorted.

"I feel like my neck is going to break... My vision is so strange... Everything looks like I'm looking down on something..."

He tried to take a step forward, but the huge dragon head caused him to lose his balance and fall forward. The dragon head crashed into the sand with a "thud," and his legs kicked helplessly in the air.

"Quick, quick, help him lift his head up!" someone shouted.

"How can I help him? This thing is heavier than him!"

"Get him a support frame, quick!"

As the Shanghai Pirate King watched the group frantically lift the "Dragon Head, Human Body" brother like a statue, he began to push an iron frame over to support his overburdened neck.

He silently covered his eyes.

The root of all this chaos lies in the "flesh reactor" that connects to the core of the Church of the Resurrection.

Originally, the flesh and blood materials designed for resurrection would be sent into the reactor by a huge steam-powered winch. Under the mechanical grinding, high pressure and high temperature, and the catalysis of a specific magic circle, they would be ground into a uniform, life-energy-rich paste, which would then combine with the soul of the player who was guided back to reshape the body.

However, the flesh and blood of the Abyss Dragon clearly do not fall into the category of "docile".

At this moment, the observation window of the reactor no longer showed uniformly rotating minced meat, but a scene resembling a hellish scroll.

The dark red dragon meat, instead of melting under the high-speed cutting of the meat grinder and the high temperature and pressure, wriggled and multiplied like a living thing, repelling other components.

Occasionally, you can see bone fragments striking reinforced glass windows like flying arrows, leaving white scratches.

The violent abyssal energy contained in the dragon's blood clashed violently with the orderly energy generated by the steam power, causing the entire reactor to roar and vibrate like a dying behemoth. The thick steam pipes connected to it occasionally burst out with leaking white steam, as if the entire system might disintegrate at any moment.

"Holy crap, this stove is about to explode... the meat grinder is even broken!"

The Mechanicus priest shouted at the dashboard, which was covered in red light.

"Don't panic, inject more coolant... no, inject stabilizer!"

"Take that... that magic crystal you collected from the demon's body and throw it all in. Maybe it can neutralize it!"

I love science, who calmly directed things from the sidelines, came up with a solution that sounded pretty bizarre.

"boom……"

Another muffled thud came from another church.

This time, what was "spit out" was a player whose body was covered with irregular dragon scales, but whose limbs were severely atrophied, making him look like a dwarf.

He lay on the ground, trying to support his body with his short arms, but the scales on his skin were unusually smooth, making him feel like a turtle doing something futile.

Upon witnessing this scene, the Shanghai Pirate King felt his temples throbbing.

"I said……"

The Shanghai Pirate King stepped forward, his voice tinged with weariness and despair.

"Could we temporarily stop using the dragon's flesh and blood?"
"Let's use some...safer materials first? Like lesser demons?"

I love science, I turn around.

"Boss, safety means mediocrity, and mediocrity means falling behind. Although the current experiment has been a bit complicated, every failure is a valuable lesson..."

His words were interrupted by another loud explosion and the ensuing cheers from the players.

Looking at the three steel churches that kept "vomiting" deformed creatures, emitting black smoke and steam, and the strange "failures" on the beach that the players themselves were having a great time with, the Shanghai Pirate King sighed deeply.

He understood that what made demons avoid him was not evil, but rather the chaos that treated evil as a daily occurrence, even finding pleasure in it.

It seems his headache is incurable.

Perhaps he should consider strengthening himself, such as getting a more robust skull?
However, perhaps due to too many failures, or perhaps because I Love Science thought the suggestion from the Pirate King might be useful, or perhaps because too much Abyssal magic flesh and blood was used for resurrection, the player's resurrection experiment finally decided to try mixing some other demonic materials into the Abyssal Dragon's flesh and blood.

This time, however, the experiment finally saw a glimmer of hope for success.

……

The former glory of Mooncrown City has now been covered by the filth of war and the abyss.

The streets that once echoed with silver dew and morning songs are now filled with the roars of demons, the clash of swords, and the various incomprehensible battle cries of players.

The magnificent elven buildings were covered with charred marks and corrosive slime, and the air was filled with sulfur, blood, and a deeper, more corrupting aura of the abyss.

Ilúvatar moved silently among the ruins like a silver-grey ghost.

She wore a travel cloak stained with dust and dark red blood, the hood obscuring most of her face, revealing only her taut jawline and a pair of eyes burning with cold determination.

In her left hand she held an elven spear, its shaft carved from moonwood and shimmering with a faint aura of magic-dispelling power. The spearhead gleamed with a cold, star-like light. On her right shoulder slung a short elven bow, its bow arm elegant yet deadly. The few arrows in her quiver had fletchings as green as her eyes.

Her goal was clear: to find Hobert, the leader of the Mirror Sea Brigade.

News of the Mirror Moon's sinking had already spread, but Ilúvatar, relying on her own channels and intuition, was certain that the cunning Hobert had not perished with the ship.

The Mirror Sea Guild, a group that is nominally independent but actually dependent on a certain high elven nobleman, is a tacitly known "black glove" of elven high society.

They deal with the filth that those fingers in the sunlight would rather not touch, encompassing everything from assassinations and intelligence theft to the trade in certain forbidden items.

But whose gloves were they?

But no one was ever sure.

Ilúvatar firmly believed that finding Hobert would unravel the poisonous thread hidden beneath the ornate robes.

In Ilúvatar's view, the arrival and sinking of the Mirror Moon was a carefully planned coincidence, a fuse used to ignite the elven fury. It was by no means an accident, and it must have involved some unspeakable secrets within the elves, and may even be inextricably linked to the current disaster of the demon invasion.

She sensed a conspiracy, so strong it was suffocating.

She avoided the main roads where Bagnians clashed with demons, choosing instead alleyways and abandoned courtyards. Her steps were as light as a cat's, her senses heightened to their peak, and her spear would sometimes lash out like a venomous snake, precisely eliminating lone lesser demons or twisted creatures corrupted by demonic energy.

The shortbow in her hands was like a living thing; the emerald arrows left the bowstring silently, often piercing the enemy's vitals before the enemy even noticed her.

She stopped in front of the ruins of a partially collapsed gallery.

A faint trace of magical energy, unlike that of ordinary demons, lingered in the air... It was a trace of high elf spatial magic.

Ilúvatar crouched down, her fingertips brushing against a broken tile on the ground.

There was an almost imperceptible mark drawn with special magical ink, resembling a pupil surrounded by waves... the Mirror Sea Guild's code, usually used to contact its members.

"Sure enough... he's still alive and active."

Ilúvatar murmured to herself.

She looked in the obscure direction indicated by the marker, which led to the inner city of Mooncrown City... the noble district.

Because of the enmity between the Bagnians and the elves, there are no royal guards left there, only the elves are still holding the line. Therefore, the battle there seems to be even more intense, with the constant roar of magic.

What was Hobart doing there?
Is he seeking the protection of his master?
Or is some secret mission underway there?

Ilúvatar rose and gripped her spear tighter. Whatever the answer, she had to give chase.

This is not only to find out the truth about the Mirror Moon, but also to unveil the fog of betrayal and conspiracy that shrouds the elven race.

She took a deep breath of the air, which smelled of burnt blood, and her figure disappeared back into the shadows.

Following the subtle markings, Ilúvatar, like a cheetah drawn by the scent of blood, infiltrated the inner city of Mooncrown.

The battle scars were more concentrated here, with shattered magical barriers and scorched craters everywhere. The remnants of elven magic and corrupted demonic energy collided in the air, producing faint crackling sounds.

The marker eventually pointed to a half-ruined elven mansion. Its former owner was clearly of high status; the exquisite reliefs were now unrecognizable, slashed beyond recognition by demonic claws, and the silverleaf tree in the courtyard had withered.

Ilúvatar did not enter through the main entrance, but instead silently climbed up to a broken balcony on the second floor, like a gecko.

The mansion was dimly lit and filled with dust and a faint smell of blood.

Her senses picked up a faint breathing sound... not the heavy, labored breathing of a demon, but the light, rhythmic breathing unique to elves.

She slipped into the corridor like a shadow, her spear tilting slightly forward.

The sound came from a study. The door was ajar, and through the crack, she saw a figure with their back to the door, seemingly frantically searching for something.

It was a female elf with dazzling silver hair that was almost platinum gold, shimmering even in the dim light. She was slender and wore travel-ready leather armor, but her movements betrayed an undeniable anxiety.

Ilúvatar recognized her; the records of the Temple of the Moon mentioned her as Alice, Hobert's public partner and one of the core members of the Mirror Sea Guild.

opportunity!

Ilúvatar flung open the door with lightning speed. In the instant Alice turned around in shock, the cold tip of the spear was already pressed against her pale neck, while her other hand swiftly covered her mouth before she could scream.

"Shh..."

Ilúvatar's cold eyes met Iris's terrified gaze, her voice low and icy, like the chilly wind of a winter night.

"Alice, tell me, where is Hobart?"

A flicker of panic crossed Alice's emerald eyes, but she shook her head, even as the spearhead pierced the skin of her neck, drawing out a trickle of crimson.

"Did not say?"

Ilúvatar's gaze grew colder, and she applied slight pressure with the tip of her spear.

"Why did the Mirror Moon arrive? Who is its master? Tell me everything you know, and I might let you die a quick death."

Alice pressed her lips tightly together, her emerald eyes fixed on Ilúvatar, filled with hostility and a hint of... barely perceptible worry.

Is she worried about Hobart?
Just as Ilúvatar was considering whether to use more drastic methods to interrogate her, a deep and familiar voice sounded from the study doorway:
"Release her, you unidentified elf. Your target should be me."

Ilúvatar turned her head sharply and saw Hobert standing there at some point.

He looked somewhat tired, his once-glorious clothes now stained, but his eyes remained sharp, and he held a beautifully decorated but clearly extraordinary elven rapier in his hand.

"Hobert".

Ilúvatar did not release Iris, the spearhead still pointing steadily.

"You finally showed up."

"I'll say it again, let go of Alice."

Hobart spoke calmly.

"She has nothing to do with this."

"It has nothing to do with it?"

Iluvita sneered.

"The wife of the Mirror Sea Brigade leader, you think she's uninvolved in the brigade's conspiracy? Tell me, who sent you here? Who orchestrated the sinking of the Mirror Moon? Whom do you serve?"

Hobert looked at Ilúvatar and slowly shook his head.

His eyes held a complex mix of emotions: helplessness, a hint of mockery, and even a touch of... sympathy.
"The more you know about certain things, the faster you die."

He said slowly.

"Release Alice and leave. The fall of Mooncrown City is inevitable. Why get dragged into an even deeper vortex?"

"swirl?"

Ilúvatar's voice rose slightly with anger.

"It is you maggots hiding in the shadows who have plunged the elven kingdom into this vortex! Tell me, who is your master?!"

Hobart shook his head again, this time very gently, but with a resolute air.

“I won’t say anything. Some things are beyond our control. Let her go. This is my final warning.”

Iluvita stared intently at Hobert, trying to find even the slightest hint of wavering in his face.

But all she saw was a bottomless silence and unwavering resolve.

She knew she probably wouldn't get what she wanted from this man.

Ilúvatar's gaze turned utterly cold, like an unyielding frost. Hobert's stubbornness and that almost pitying look had completely enraged her.

She understood that words were meaningless at this moment; the maggots in the shadows would only hide behind silence and mystery.

She is a demon hunter, her mission is purification, and there is usually only one way to do it.

"Then, as you wish."

Her voice was eerily calm, as if stating a given fact.

Before she could finish speaking, the spearhead pressed against Alice's neck was suddenly thrust forward!
"Pfft..."

The sound of a sharp weapon piercing flesh was exceptionally clear in the quiet study.

Alice's emerald green eyes widened instantly, filled with disbelief, astonishment, and a surge of pain.

She tried to scream, but her mouth, covered, could only utter muffled "hoarse" sounds. Her slender body trembled violently, then collapsed, her platinum blonde hair tracing a desperate arc in the air, like a broken orchid.

"Alice..."

Hobart's calm shattered instantly, replaced by a furious rage and grief that seemed to tear his eyes out.

The rapier in his hand burst forth with dazzling magical light, and his figure rushed towards Ilúvatar like a whirlwind, the tip of the sword aimed directly at her heart, moving at a speed beyond the norm!
Ilúvatar had anticipated his reaction.

The instant the spear tip left Alice's neck, she turned to the side, twisted her waist, and the blood-stained spear, like a living venomous snake, drew a cold arc, precisely parrying Hobert's furious thrust.

"clang!"

Sparks flew as magical energy and anti-magic aura clashed violently.

Hobart's swordsmanship was superb, full of aristocratic elegance and deadly efficiency, with each strike aimed at Ilúvatar's vitals.

His anger gave him power, but it also brought with it an inevitable sense of madness.

Ilúvatar's spear technique is more direct and ruthless, stemming from countless training sessions and battles with other elves, resulting in attacks without any unnecessary frills.

Every block, every thrust, is aimed at finishing off the opponent as quickly and effectively as possible.

The spear in her hand was sometimes like a sturdy shield, sometimes like lightning, deflecting Hobart's storm of attacks one by one.

"You... a beast that only knows how to kill!"

Hobert roared, his sword strikes growing ever more ferocious.

"Of course, I am the spear of the moon goddess, the garden of the world tree, and the death god of the elves..."

Ilúvatar responded coldly, the tip of her spear grazing Hobert's cheek, leaving a bloody mark.

The study was small, and the fight between the two knocked over the bookshelves, scattering precious scrolls and books all over the floor, where they were trampled and torn to shreds.

The magic lamp was overturned, its light flickering and illuminating the intertwined figures of the two people and Hobert's face contorted with grief.

Hobart grew increasingly impatient as the siege dragged on without success. The sight of Alice's corpse nearby only served to further agitate him.

He suddenly feinted, trying to create distance to unleash some powerful spell.

But Ilúvatar did not give him that chance.

The instant he stepped back and the energy in his staff began to gather, Ilúvatar, as if anticipating his movement, swiftly swept his unused left hand across his waist... a flash of emerald green light appeared!
It's not a spear, it's an arrow!

At such close range, with lightning speed, she threw a jade-feathered arrow with her bare hands!
"Whoosh!"

The arrow pierced Hobert's right wrist as he was channeling the spell.

"Ugh!"

Hobert groaned in pain, the spell was interrupted, and the rapier nearly slipped from his hand.

In that split second of stillness, Ilúvatar's spear moved.

Like a venomous snake that has been lying in wait for a long time, it launched a fatal attack! The demon-dispelling aura contained in the spear surged, transforming into a silver lightning bolt, piercing straight into Hobert's chest, which was wide open due to excruciating pain.

Hobert's pupils contracted sharply as he tried desperately to dodge to the side, but it was too late.

"puff……"

The spear pierced his chest and emerged from his back, spraying a spray of crimson blood.

His body stiffened abruptly, and the rapier in his hand clattered to the ground.

He looked down in disbelief at the spear shaft that had pierced his body, then slowly raised his head to look into Ilúvatar's cold, merciless eyes.

"You...will know nothing..."

He was breathing heavily, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with a final mockery and a hint of relief.

"A storm...is coming..."

Ilúvatar twisted her wrist, the spear churning inside him, extinguishing his life force completely.

The light in Hobert's eyes quickly dimmed, and his body slumped limply onto the spear shaft.

Ilúvatar expressionlessly drew her spear, and Hobert's body fell heavily beside Iris, the blood spreading rapidly and staining the scattered tomes a dark red.

The study fell into a deathly silence, save for the heavy smell of blood and Ilúvatar's soft breathing.

She looked at the two elven corpses at her feet, her eyes showing no emotion.

The trail seemed to end there; Hobart never revealed the mastermind behind it all, even until his death.

But “a storm is coming”... this dying whisper sounded like an ominous prophecy.

Ilúvatar put away her spear, crouched down, and began to manipulate Hobert and Iris.

Secrets the living are unwilling to tell them, no problem. As a demon hunter, Ilúvatar can make the elves who die at her hands speak.

This is an ability bestowed upon her by the moon goddess... It works on every creature with elven blood.

(End of this chapter)