"How are your injuries?"
A platinum-haired man with an unkempt beard asked the green-haired woman half-sitting by the cave's entrance while lowering his back to enter.
"They've been better thanks to your potions, Mister Norn."
She responded with relief written all over her face and she laid back down.
The man walked in carrying a slab of meat carved from a deer-type monster and immediately began preparing it.
The cave had everything a household would normally have, although everything was handmade often from some unconventional monster materials where it would normally be wood.
"..."
The woman watched the man in silence, with her thick fringe that usually covered half of her face slipping to the side revealing one of her eyes.
"You know you should just leave me here and go find help. Or at least a human settlement where you could barter for a message scroll."
Despite a pot by the entrance beging to boil which unleashed a heavenly aroma, the green-haired woman's expression turned bitter and she let out an apologetic sigh.
"I wouldn't be so sure about there being a human settlement in the area anymore, Miss Doyen. That shadow monster was above the level of anything I've ever seen."
"...!"
The platinum-haired man walked over and explained, causing the surprised woman to flinch and cover herself with the pelt up to her nose.
"Of course, I'm not implying anything outrageous. It's just that dealing with that kind of beast will take some time. It's best for us to lay low and wait for the rescue… that said, are you sure no one tried to contact you via the message scroll?"
"..."
Norn kneeled by Doyen's side and placed his hand on her forehead, first brushing her fringe out of the way, which made her tremble a bit.
Doyen's face turned red and she couldn't stop herself from glancing over the serious Norn.
"I'm glad that your forehead and eye healed up nicely. But don't stain yourself. We can survive here for as long as it's necessary."
The platinum-haired man assured, taking away his hand when…
"...wait…!"
"...?"
Doyen yelped and grabbed his wrist before he could get up, making him look back at her with surprise.
"Ah…! Sorry… It's just… your hand is pleasantly cool… you could… keep it like that a bit longer…"
The woman fidgeted and revealed, embarrassed about the actions she believed to be not appropriate for someone her age.
"Don't apologize, Miss Doyen. I'll always gladly…"
Norn smiled, moving his hand back and gazing upon the trusting defenseless Doyen…
"...blublubblub…"
The rest of his words got drowned by the green fluid his unconscious body was submerged into, causing only bubbles of air to escape the gelatinous substance with a rather unpleasant sound.
The giant tube containing the platinum-haired man was built into some sort of a device that at the first glance should have nothing to do with the setting of the world.
It was also one of four devices that filled up the pristine white room with their ugly cables, pipes, and other connectors.
The door to the brightly lit room slid open without a sound and two people entered.
A jovial elderly man in white clothes, and a…
…a grim-faced middle-aged man with steel-gray hair tied up in a short ponytail, who despite not wielding a sword at the moment gave the impression of a skilled swordmaster…
The elderly man walked up to the device with the tube hosting Norn, and began clicking various lights flashing on the console while the swordmaster waited with a grim expression.
"...hmm… normally, I'd say that the discrepancy in the result was well within the norm…"
"I'm telling you, my lord, this arm doesn't feel right. It looks correct, but it feels like it's smaller than that! All of my attacks are off."
The elderly man pointed out, getting immediately interrupted by the swordmaster pulling up his sleeve and revealing an arm with fresh stitchmark scars all over its shoulder and biceps.
"Something must be wrong with that guy for sure!"
The swordmaster added, pointing at Norn who, as if being able to hear them, flinched and turned around, revealing a barely healed-up stump of a right hand.
"I had my suspicions too, although I merely wrote off this gentleman's ability as coincidence…"
"...what ability…?"
The elderly man raised his hand to stop the swordmaster's fervent words, causing the steel-gray-haired man to furrow his brows and ask.
"Jack of all trades. And according to what you say, now I do believe that he is actually none other than the first prince of Diamondium Kingdom, Ester Diamondes."
"...!"
The elderly man revealed, causing the swordmaster to straighten his back and stare at his own hand as if he could see it in a different light.
"If the dimensions of the arm don't match…"
"Then it means that his appearance was changed by Diamondium Kingdom's royal magician!"
The two men exclaimed to each other.
"It seems that you've got me a far more interesting subject than anyone could originally guess."
The elderly man chuckled, but the swordmaster's expression soon darkened.
"Will you be able to break through Oalc's magic?"
He asked, curling and opening his grafted arm.
"Perfect Mage is an ability we cannot underestimate. It just might be…"
"Are you saying that even taking power from outside the System wouldn't be enough to break through his spell…?"
The elderly man nodded to himself with a somber expression, causing the swordmaster to scoff at him, full of disbelief.
As the swordmaster spoke, his grafted arm swelled up with thick veins and bulging muscles that threatened to rip through the skin at any moment.
"Would it be more clear for you if I said that I suspect that Nathaniel Oalc's power comes directly from outside the system?"
"..."
The elderly man let out a short sigh and asked, instantly silencing the swordmaster.
"More importantly, did you manage to get your hands on the Glacier Core?"
The elderly man turned around and walked over to another console, asking without even looking at the other man.
"No. But I can say with some degree of certainty that the Deep-Dusk Dullahan didn't get it either. At least if the caravan survivors were honest with their last words."
"Then we have nothing to report back to Gore. Good."
The swordmaster shook his head and declared while his arm returned to normal, making the elderly man nod with a satisfied expression, giving the swordmaster quite the shock with that reaction.
"I've heard quite an interesting report, you see. One of my original experiments I based all of you on, is apparently roaming the outside world with a sound mind. It's… wildly outside my expectations."
"...you don't mean the World Eaters… do you…?"
The elderly man added with a chuckle, causing the swordmaster to shiver from unease as he inquired in a low voice.
"What else did I base you all on?"
The elderly man chuckled even more while fully concentrating on the console, making some adjustments to whatever process was happening inside the murky tube.
"I believe we should use the Dullhan's rampage to secure that sample… All of the World Eaters were designed to lose themselves in rage and succumb to hatred. How come that one turned out differently? How did it even survive up until now? We might just use the prince over there as a bargaining chip to obtain it~!"
The elderly man announced, his face gradually twisting with a wicked grin.
"Be ready to venture out as soon as this one is ready."
His expression returned to normal, and he added, glancing back at the silent swordmaster staring at the tube as the creature inside squirmed in distress.
"As you wish, Lord Munin."