Translator: CinderTL
Roland rubbed the heavy, strangely textured Rock Core Block in his hand. He looked up, meeting Holm's gaze directly, and asked, "What exactly is this thing?"
Holm met his eyes, his voice still hoarse but carrying a conviction as deep as ancestral memory. "It's a Rock Core Block. That's what the elders in my family, and their elders before them, have always told us."
"It comes from The Granary Hall, a relic from the ancient era—food."
"Food?" Roland's eyebrows arched, his mind racing.
The Granary Hall... a relic from the ancient era...
In other words, this thing called a Rock Core Block is a creation of the Crystal Era?
But—
Food?
He lowered his head to examine the "stone" again, finding it utterly impossible to connect it with any edible substance he knew.
Holm seemed to sense his skepticism and explained, his voice tinged with weary resignation. "It is food, there's no doubt about it."
"A small piece is enough to quell the hunger in our bellies and the unbearable thirst, allowing us—to survive."
Roland surveyed his emaciated companions, their eyes vacant and listless, a flicker of profound helplessness and confusion crossing his own.
"But—as you can see, while it has kept us alive, our bodies grow thinner and thinner. The reason for this—we don't understand it either."
"Are you trying to deceive us?"
A clear voice rang out from behind Roland.
Elf Girl Avril had emerged from the shell ship at some point, now standing beside him. She wrinkled her delicate nose, her eyes fixed on the Rock Core Block in Roland's hand, filled with unconcealed suspicion.
Though she knew it would serve no purpose to deceive these survivors, the "stone's" appearance was utterly unlike anything she recognized as food.
Avril's words, though born of simple doubt rather than malice, were like a pebble dropped into still water, sending ripples through the survivors.
They shrank back from Roland's group, clearly stronger and possessing unknown strength, daring no overt action. Yet within their sunken eye sockets, a surge of intense resentment erupted, and—
The survivors couldn't hide their greed for the Rock Core Block in Roland's hand.
He ignored the complex expressions in their eyes.
Focusing his mind, he slowly extended a thread of his perception, like an invisible tendril, and carefully probed the internal structure of the Rock Core Block.
In an instant, he withdrew his perception, his expression turning peculiar.
Without a word, Roland suddenly tightened his grip. With a faint, crystalline crack, he managed to break off a small fragment from the edge of the unusually hard Rock Core Block.
Then, a small, stable flame of orange-red fire erupted from his fingertip, and he held the fragment over it for a moment.
As he was about to pop the heated fragment into his mouth, a slender but firm arm blocked his path.
"Hey! Roland!"
Avril frowned, her voice filled with obvious concern.
"We don't know where this thing came from, and it looks... suspicious. It's best if we—"
"Don't worry, Avril."
Roland gave his companion a reassuring look before slowly placing the Rock Core fragment into his mouth.
Roland didn't fully trust Holm's account.
However, the confidence that emboldened him to try came from his Universal Harmony trait.
Any food or potion he processed could perfectly eliminate unstable energies and potential negative effects.
This had been proven long ago when he consumed the risky Bloodline Awakening Potion Danny had prepared in the Golden Valley Kingdom.
Moreover—
Roland began chewing on the heated stone.
The texture was exceptionally rough, like gnawing on a dry, hard lump of clay mixed with fine sand. It had almost no taste, only a heavy, mineral and earthy aroma that filled his mouth and made it difficult to swallow.
Yet the moment this unpleasant sensory experience registered, another trait automatically activated:
Taste Synesthesia.
In an instant, precise information about the substance in his mouth flowed into his mind like a stream.
Clay and specific mineral powders...
...and inert Arcane Dust as a stabilizer to solidify its form and prolong its shelf life...
The Rock Core Blocks are formed through a specific curing method using magic formations or high-temperature environments.
"Just as I suspected..."
As Roland swallowed the gritty fragments, he felt a genuine, overwhelming fullness swiftly spread through his stomach, and the dryness in his mouth and tongue noticeably eased. He raised an eyebrow, his thoughts focusing on a familiar term in the recipe stored in his mind:
Nutrient Concentration Potion.
This potion was no stranger to him. It was one of the concoctions previously developed and demonstrated by the mysterious and powerful Witch Vanessa in the Mistland. A single small bottle of this potion could satisfy an adult's basic nutritional and hydration needs for an entire day.
However, perhaps to maximize the "food's" shelf life or due to flaws in the manufacturing process, the amount of Nutrient Concentration Potion contained within each Rock Core Block was extremely meager.
This made it, in a way, a dangerous "placebo."
It could deceptively alleviate intense hunger but provided absolutely none of the sufficient nutrients and energy required to maintain physical health.
This perfectly explained why Holm and his people, despite surviving on Rock Core Blocks, still inevitably withered into skeletal thinness.
As this thought occurred to him, a new question surfaced in Roland's mind.
Witch Vanessa had explicitly stated that the Nutrient Concentration Potion was her own unique formula.
So why did it appear in this relic, seemingly from the Crystal Era, over a thousand years ago?
Was Holm lying? Were the Rock Core Blocks not from the depths of The Granary Hall?
Or was it possible that...
Recalling Witch Vanessa's enigmatic smile and her captivating, unreadable face, Roland shook his head gently.
Dwelling on this now was pointless.
At least the Rock Core Block in his hand was real.
Since it was claimed to originate from The Granary Hall, the hall likely stored more finished potions or the raw materials needed to brew the Nutrient Concentration Potion.
With his deep understanding of the potion's components and principles through taste synesthesia, Roland was confident that if he could find the right materials and equipment, he could successfully replicate the complete potion.
Once they could mass-produce Nutrient Concentration Potions, the core issues of food and water would be effortlessly resolved for their upcoming journey across the Aetheron Continent.
Having made up his mind, Roland noticed Holm's gaze fixed intently on the Rock Core Block in his hand, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and humble supplication.
Without hesitation, Roland handed the remaining large portion of the Rock Core Block back to Holm.
"We believe your words, Holm," Roland said calmly, then made his request again. "Therefore, we need to enter The Granary Hall. It may hold the key to resolving your plight and fulfilling our needs."
Holm almost trembled as he accepted the precious Rock Core Block, carefully rewrapped it in a dirty cloth, and clutched it to his chest as if it were an priceless treasure.
He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, his wrinkled face contorted in anguish.
"Esteemed Veilbreaker, it's not that we're unwilling—but—The Granary Hall has been occupied by a terrifying monster." His voice trembled with fear.
"We tried to resist, to reclaim our Holy Land—but the cost—was too devastating."
He surveyed his tribe, their faces etched with fear and sorrow, his eyes brimming with profound grief. Then, with a look almost like a plea, he turned to Roland.
"If—if you truly possess such great strength, I implore you, help us drive out—or destroy—the monsters that have taken root in the Granary Hall!"
"To restore peace to the Granary Hall, we will offer all the Rock Core Blocks our tribe has preserved! And—
You may take anything within the hall that catches your eye!"
Though Holm hadn't explicitly stated it before, his expression and tone had already led Roland to suspect the situation within the Granary Hall. Thus, he wasn't surprised by the man's desperate plea.
"Agreed."
Roland's response was crisp and direct, immediately cutting to the heart of the matter.
"What do the monsters occupying the hall look like? How many are there? What is their strength?"
Seeing Roland hadn't refused, Holm's eyes blazed with excitement and hope. He quickly poured out everything he knew.
"Just—just one! Its—its skin is an abnormal pale, completely hairless, with eyes like empty sockets that glow with a faint, unsettling red light in the darkness! It moves like a phantom, and its strength is terrifying—"
As Holm's description hung in the air, Roland's brow slowly furrowed.
"Pale skin, hairless body—"
These features were identical to the monsters he had encountered at Observation Post No. 7. But...
He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the dense crowd of nearly a thousand survivors before him, his voice tinged with clear doubt.
"Just—one monster?"
Based on his previous experiences, those incompletely mutated "Pseudo-Ashborn"—distinct from the true Ashborn they'd met in Rust Town—weren't particularly strong.
Their physical strength was only slightly greater than that of a well-built human. Their only advantages might be their vision in the darkness and their beast-like savagery and intuition.
With nearly a thousand people present, even with crude equipment and a human-wave tactic, they shouldn't be completely helpless against a single Pseudo-Ashborn, should they?
Holm clearly saw the suspicion and confusion in Roland's eyes. He quickly elaborated, his voice trembling with urgency.
"You don't understand! The monster's terror lies not in its strength or speed, but in its—its way of fighting, which seems utterly inhuman!"
He struggled to organize his thoughts, trying to describe the desperate scene.
"It seemed to understand how to use every weapon. When our men thrust with spears, it would casually deflect or flick them away. When we swung stone axes, it would dodge with a twist of its body and, with a flick of its wrist, somehow seize the axe and turn it against us. Using its bizarre way of applying force, it would precisely cleave through our defenses—even the most ordinary wooden stick in its hands became as deadly as a veteran's sword!"
Holm's face was pale with lingering terror.
"It seems to anticipate our every move, knowing exactly what we'll do next."
"We tried to form ranks, but it easily found the formation's weaknesses. We attempted to surround it with our numbers, yet it slipped through our grasp like an eel, always finding the most unexpected gaps to cut through before we could close the trap. Every strike was concise, precise, and aimed straight for the vital points—our men were falling inexplicably before they could even touch its robes."
"This wasn't a battle at all—it was a one-sided game of cat and mouse, a slaughter!"
As Holm described the monster's almost artistic, refined, and ruthlessly efficient combat skills with such terror-stricken words, Roland slowly frowned.
"This sounds... eerily similar to the principle of 'A Knight Does Not Die Unarmed'?"
(End of the Chapter)
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