Born in Blood-Chapter 576: Beware!

’If it thinks hard enough, the mental barrier will shatter,’ Liam realized.

It was a sad realization.

Not because the monster was going to die, of course.

But because Liam was not going to extract as much information out of it.

Life was tough. Deal with it.

Liam couldn’t ask any big question. Obviously there was a limit on how much info the monster/human had in the first place.

He couldn’t ask how it knew the Echorian language.

He couldn’t ask where his origins were from.

He couldn’t ask for anything specific about the Tomb, either.

’It probably doesn’t know anything about these rooms.’

For example, asking for how many rooms the Tomb had, or the most efficient and safe route to clearing it, was stupid. There was an abysmal chance of it knowing such a thing, and even if it did, why would it tell Liam?

Right. The monster still had "free will". It could just choose to kill itself.

Instead... why not ask it something that it wouldn’t have a problem with answering?

"How did Naxathra do this to you?" Liam asked.

Using his mental waves, he actually provided as much support to its mental sphere as he could by applying soft pressure around the cracked areas. He couldn’t do much more than that, out of fear that it might break.

"What powers of his can you remember?" he asked again.

The monster’s head moved up and down in what seemed to be a laughing motion, but it barely made a noise.

"I’ll be honest with you," Liam said. "You’re going to die here. But I’ll live. And there’s a high chance I can loot his Tomb and kill any other monstrosity he created out of mercy. Maybe someone you know is here. Maybe they suffered just like you. Maybe they are suffering like you. Do you want to leave them the way they are, or do you want to take a chance and die with meaning?"

There was silence. The monster was still. Liam’s words had made an impact.

"I’ll ask again. What useful knowledge about him can you give me? Anything helpful."

The result was visible. The monster suddenly grew more conscious, and its pain looked alleviated for a brief moment.

It "looked" at Liam. At least, the direction the sword tip had poked him last. It had no eyes, after all.

"That... baAASTAAARD... he... argh!" the blind beast groaned in pain as he attempted to answer, shouting a part of his sentence.

It didn’t have much of a face left, but Liam could feel its conviction, as though whatever the pain was going to lead to, he was okay with.

"...Tore... through... me. Not... JUST FLESH! Deeper... don’t... knoW WHAT!" He screamed, and with each sentence, his mental barrier was slowly cracking apart. "Part... of... HIM... LIVES! BE... WARE!"

Crack.

With the last word of his sentence over, the monster’s mental sphere shattered into glitter and dust.

Just like that, the monster— no... the trapped human within had met his due. A mercy, all things considered.

Unlike what he thought initially, it didn’t go berserk. It simply fell braindead and limp.

Liam looked at the monstrous corpse still left behind with thoughtful eyes.

’Part of him lives?’ Liam repeated.

It wasn’t strange for dead cultivators to leave behind a copy of themselves for those who wanted to inherit their techniques and treasures. Case in point, the Eternal Sword.

Albeit, nothing in that inheritance ground truly worked out the way it was supposed to.

Nevertheless, it didn’t seem too big a stretch to realize Naxathra could do the same.

...But were they the same in purpose?

Eternal Sword was an "honorable" cultivator. His methods of inheritance were not as devious and brutal as the Dreaded’s Tomb.

Did Naxathra leave a part of himself for the sake of his inheritor?

Or did he leave a part of himself... for himself?

Did the Dreaded even intend an inheritor?

Liam made an inward frown.

And what about the earlier part of the tortured soul’s statement? About how Naxathra not only ripped through the man’s flesh... but something ’deeper’.

’His DNA or what? It could explain the shift in his biology...’

Not only that, but the man even went as far as to warn Liam with his dying breath.

One question answered, a hundred more to be asked.

The problem with having such a sharp and powerful mind was overthinking. Yet, barely a quarter of a second passed since Liam was in the midst of processing everything.

What brought him out of his thoughts, however, was the familiar sound of stone grinding against stone.

This time, it came from above. Where the chandelier was, a narrow crack was being pulled apart, revealing a slowly descending chest within.

With a long breath, Liam put his thoughts on the backseat for now. He was tired and needed rest. Plus, his mood was bound to improve after exploring whatever loot the chest contained.

Approaching the chest carefully, Liam observed it for any traps or anything he deemed dangerous.

There was no such thing.

The chest seemed perfectly normal.

It didn’t react in any abnormal way to his mental waves. He could see the insides of the chest just as clear as he could see the outside.

Deeming it safe, he lifted it open.

Liam lifted the contents out of the chest and inspected it.

At first glance, it was just a rusty sword.

Just... a normal looking, run down, chipped and rusted sword that one could find laying in a regular blacksmith’s forge.

Despite that, Liam’s eyes widened when he realized a few things.

The blade... it was absolutely negating whatever mental waves came close to it.

It had created a void space the thickness and width of the sword. Like Liam’s mind was not strong enough to inspect the weapon with his mind.

But... that wasn’t anything remarkable, truth be told.

’It can cut through mental waves. So what? I can do the same.’

But what else was interesting, was that the blade gave off the impression that it was almost alive! free𝑤ebnovel.com

It gave off vague, unintelligible whispers.

No, it wasn’t Liam’s insanity or anything.

The blade was genuinely whispering things.

Liam spoke to his weapons. Yes.

But they were basically a part of him.

And only he could hear them.

But he wasn’t crazy.

Yet, with this rusty sword, everyone could hear the whispers.

...At least, he hoped everyone could hear them and not just him.