[LSB] Chapter 117: I Don't Know

“Julian! I… I did it! I burned the fucking rat! Do you get it!? Did you get the EXP?!”

“I… wouldn’t know that.”

[I'm afraid determining whether killing the rat had an immediate effect on the master's experience would be impossible. You would need to kill more than one, Silvie.]

“Ack, shut up! I’ve killed like a hundred of 'em, and you’re not even out here fighting with us!”

[As I said before, I prefer to remain inside Master.]

“Can you not say it like that!?”

The domain of the daemon rats was the complete opposite of what Julian had expected. He thought it would be a cramped, labyrinthine cavern. Instead, it was a vast, open wasteland—gray, desolate, and eerily still, much like the last time.

The rats emerged from beneath the ground, burrowing up in ambush. Unfortunately for them, Julian could feel them all the moment they stirred beneath the surface.

Hundreds of them, clawing their way to the surface to mob him.

But it didn’t matter. Not with MEGAN here.

Julian was still mildly pissed that his peaceful life as a blacksmith had been interrupted by the sudden daemon infestation on the ship. But now, listening to MEGAN zip through the air, flitting around and cackling as she incinerated the enemy, Julian felt something unexpected—relief. Maybe even a little happiness.

For her.

She darted through the battlefield like a living ember, a wisp of pure flame dancing through the air, burning everything in her path. Even though his MP was draining with each passing second, Julian didn’t mind.

It was strange. When he had used the Avatar of Searadyn before, he didn’t even have an MP gauge to worry about or consume.

The Avatar had explained that spirits shouldn’t normally consume their master’s MP at all—at least not in most circumstances. They were connected to nature, existing independently from their master’s energy reserves.

But MEGAN? She wasn’t connected to nature. She was connected to him.

“Ha! Die! Die, you stupid rats!”

The daemon rats rushed toward Julian, snarling and snapping, their massive bodies tearing through the dirt. But before they could reach him, a tiny, floating flame in the shape of a human blocked their path.

MEGAN.

One of the monsters barely spared her a glance, dismissing her as insignificant.

Then she landed on its head.

The moment she made contact, its thick exoskeleton sizzled. Flesh melted. Bone cracked. The daemon rat screeched, writhing in pain—but it kept charging. It was only a minor burn. A mere annoyance.

Until it wasn’t.

As it neared Julian, the rat realized something… horrifying.

Its entire body was already burning.

The power of the Eternal Flame—a fire that never extinguished until its target was completely reduced to nothing. The monsters shrieked and flailed, trying in vain to shake off the flames consuming them from the inside out.

Spirits were among the most powerful beings in existence, second only to the gods of Artemia. That was why their Avatars were so highly sought after. They were walking calamities.

And right now, MEGAN wielded the power of Helionis.

And Julian?

He wielded the power of two spirits.

[Both our worlds are fortunate that Master has no desire for power or conquest, Silvie,] the Avatar of Searadyn murmured, [If he did, he would be a force no one could afford to ignore. May I speak, Master?]

“Huh? You’re already speaking to him,” MEGAN growled, momentarily pausing her carnage to glare over her shoulder.

Julian sighed, giving a small nod.

Then he suddenly moved.

Without turning around, he stepped to the side just as a daemon rat lunged at him from behind, its claws slicing through the air where he had been standing a fraction of a second earlier.

Twisting his body, Julian swung his garrote downward in a clean, controlled motion.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, as the daemon rat landed, it tried to turn—only for its entire body to split apart.

[Item: Soul Thread]

Type: Multi-Purpose Garrote

Grade: Unique Legendary

Durability: 300/300

Sharpness: 500

Weight: 0.02

Special Effects:

Liquid Edge – The garrote can shift between a flexible thread and a rigid blade at will, adapting instantly to the wielder’s intent.

Eternal Wound – Any injury inflicted by this weapon is burned at the cellular level, preventing natural or magical healing unless treated with extremely rare purification methods.

Twin Spirit’s Pact – The garrote carries the will of two powerful spirits, granting the wielder partial resistance to fire and ice-based attacks. Only the chosen of Searadyn and Sylvie can wield its true power.

Skills:

Frostfire Constriction – When wrapped around a target, Soul Thread can ignite in a fusion of frost and flame, dealing continuous burn damage while slowing the victim’s movements.

Unseen Reaper – The wielder can extend Soul Thread beyond normal sight, turning it invisible in motion. The first strike from an unseen thread has a 20% chance to ignore armor.

Ashen Severance – A lethal execution technique. If a target’s neck, limb, or torso is fully encircled, activating this skill causes Soul Thread to harden instantly and sever the bound area in a single, unavoidable motion. The wound cauterizes immediately, leaving only embers in its wake.

Description:

A weapon unlike any other, Soul Thread was born from the fusion of two mighty spirits—Searadyn, the Spirit of Frostfire, and Sylvie, the unknown entity carrying the Eternal Flame. It is a garrote, yet more than that, an instrument of precision and devastation. In the hands of its creator, it marked a turning point, a moment when the flames of purpose burned brighter than ever before. With every strand of its thread infused with the unyielding power of fire and ice, it is a weapon of elegance and horror—one that leaves behind no blood, only ash.

[End of Description]

***

The garrote, simply called Soul Thread, might seem unremarkable at first glance—if it could even be seen at all. It didn’t have the grandeur of a sword or the weight of a battle axe. No, it was thin, almost invisible in motion, a whisper of steel and fire.

Yet, despite its simplicity, Julian considered it his finest work, surpassing even Searadyn’s Veil and Phantasm. The Guidance of Artemis agreed… and even the Master of Shadows actually did too.

After all, this was the first weapon infused with both Searadyn’s frostfire and MEGAN’s eternal flame.

The reason Julian had been irritated since earlier—aside from the daemons infesting the ship—was the Master of Shadows endlessly whispering in his mind.

[[The Master of Shadows requests you to offer the Soul Thread to the shadows. Now.]]

The Master of Shadows had been silent ever since Julian discovered that his Shadow Blacksmith abilities carried over to his real body. But now, suddenly, he was demanding something ridiculous.

And worst of all? It wasn’t even a quest. There were no rewards. No justification. Just another unreasonable demand by him.

Julian sighed, flicking the Soul Thread. The wire hummed, shaking off the grime and blood like it rejected impurity itself. As he continued walking, he whispered in his mind, calling upon the Avatar of Searadyn.

‘What did you want to say?’

[Is it wise to ignore the Master of Shadows?] The Avatar of Searadyn responded. [He may not be at full strength now, but his power and authority are second only to Artemis herself—and unlike her, he is not merciful.]

“Ack, who cares about him?” MEGAN huffed, flying close to Julian’s head, her tiny flaming hands waving dismissively. “If he wants the weapon, he should offer something in return. Nothing’s free in this world, Sears.”

[I have told you not to call me that. I am not Searadyn, merely an avatar of her.]

“But you have her memories, you act on her behalf,” MEGAN shrugged.

[I do.]

“Then that makes you Sears. I’m Silvie. Let’s not complicate things.”

[But Master calls you MEGAN.]

“Eh, I’m MEGAN to him here on Earth. Silvie on Artemia,” she said, folding her arms. “We’re trying not to get discovered, remember? If he accidentally called me MEGAN while streaming live on Artemia, some people might put two and two together.”

[Hmm.] A moment of silence, before the Avatar continued. [But one day, won’t you have to choose who you truly are, Silvie?]

“Pft. Stop being so dramatic.” MEGAN waved a tiny hand before turning to look at the battlefield behind them.

“…Anyway, this should be all of them, right?”

Julian tilted his shoulder back slightly.

Behind them, hundreds upon hundreds of daemon corpses littered the ground. Some were burnt to ash, others were sliced apart—their flesh and bones incredibly, and surgically smooth..

But, of course, as rats…

“There are more,” Julian whispered.

And sure enough, ahead of them, hundreds of claws erupted from the ground—digging, chittering, scratching toward the surface. The eerie sound made MEGAN rub her burning shoulders, but Julian only tilted his head, spinning Soul Thread around his finger.

“…Let’s just get this over with and head to the tower.”

***

Meanwhile, outside the daemon’s domain, a team had already surrounded the portal, led personally by Dr. Ling, who had been urgently recalled to the ship.

Convincing her to return hadn’t been easy at first, but as soon as she was informed of the circumstances, she wasted no time flying back.

“How… long has he been in there?” Dr. Ling asked, her gaze fixed on the portal.

No one responded immediately. She had to turn toward Craig before finally getting an answer.

“O…Oh, me?” Craig blinked, pointing at himself. In just one day, he had not only talked to both heads of the DCC, managed to get yelled at by them too. A personal achievement, really.

“No, Mr. Julian Winters!” Dr. Ling snapped, exasperation clear in her voice. “How long has he been in there!?”

“I…” Craig gulped. He knew the exact time, yet under Dr. Ling’s glare, the words seemed to catch in his throat. After swallowing twice more, he finally managed to stand straight and force out an answer.

“Thirty-six minutes and counting!”

“Do you think he’s dead?” Dr. Ling muttered, narrowing her eyes at the swirling portal.

“W…what?”

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

“Oh…” Craig hesitated. “I… uh… I don’t believe so, Dr. Ling. I’ve seen how strong he is.”

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question—nor was it actually a question.” She clicked her tongue. “Send in a drone so we can find out.”

“Ah! R…right!” Craig scrambled into action, working alongside the operations team to set up the wired rover that would carry the scouting drone into the portal.

But he couldn’t focus.

A massive holographic display in front of them was already showing what the drone was seeing, yet Dr. Ling and several others were practically breathing down his neck, watching his every move.

…Should he apply for a promotion after this? He seems pretty important now.

“E…entering the portal now,” he announced, guiding the rover forward into the portal.

And then, half the room screamed.

“F…fuck!”

How could they not, when the first thing they saw was the tentacled head of a dead, giant rat—practically pressed against the drone’s camera?

Craig cleared his throat, stretching his neck before continuing to operate the controls.

“Sending out the drone.”

Everyone focused on the display as the world inside the portal unfolded before them.

And what they saw left them speechless.

Thousands.

Thousands of daemon corpses littered the gray wasteland, their grotesque forms piled atop one another.

“He… killed all of that?” someone whispered.

“How… many is that? It looks… disgusting. I heard there are a lot of rats living in the Below. Do you think it looks like that?”

“Man, shut the fuck up. My parents lived in the Below.”

“Wha—”

Before that particular conversation could spiral into anything, the murmuring immediately ceased as Dr. Ling stepped forward and raised a hand.

Craig kept piloting the drone, tracing the endless trail of corpses, but before he could go any further, Dr. Ling suddenly swiped at the hologram—zooming in on a single daemon.

And she wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

No one had to ask why she stopped, because it was impossible to ignore.

Unlike the rest, this one was enormous.

At least twenty times the size of its peers.

Its head was even more grotesque—its individual tendrils covered in thick, matted fur.

But, just like the rest…

It was dead.

“Interesting,” Dr. Ling murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips as the holographic display reflected in her glasses. She leaned forward, studying the scene intently. “The daemon rats, individually, rank at a low threat level—but in groups, their category rises exponentially. And yet, Julian handled them alone?”

She zoomed in further, her fingers twitching slightly as she focused on the colossal rat among the corpses.

“…And he even took down their boss? I knew it. I knew you belonged to the DCC, Mr. Julian Winters.”

Her voice dipped into something almost hissing, drawing glances from the surrounding staff. They all exchanged looks—thoroughly weirded out.

But before anyone could comment, Dr. Ling straightened and waved a hand.

“Continue following the trail,” she ordered.

The drone resumed its course, weaving through the endless sea of daemon corpses until it reached the tower in the distance. Slowly, it ascended, capturing a view of the structure’s summit—and there, at its peak, standing before the Black Box, was Julian.

“It’s him,” Dr. Ling’s eyes narrowed. “Go closer.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Craig nodded, guiding the drone forward. But before it could get any closer—

A flash of silver cut through the air, and the feed abruptly cut to black.

Craig blinked. “What the—”

The hologram that had once displayed Julian and the Black Box was gone.

***

“Move in closer.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Craig nodded, maneuvering the drone forward. But before it could get anywhere near Julian, he suddenly turned his shoulder toward the camera—his movement eerily precise, as if he had sensed it.

And in the blink of an eye, the drone was sliced cleanly in half.

Static flooded the control room.

Back at the tower, Julian tilted his head slightly as he heard something drop to the ground. “…What was that?”

“It was a drone, Julian. Good job.” MEGAN fluttered onto his shoulder, giving his neck a small, approving pat. “They would have seen me if you hadn’t destroyed it.”

“Hmm.” Julian hummed in response, his focus shifting back to the Black Box. The last time he encountered something like this, Kitty had destroyed it before he could investigate.

But this time, there was nothing stopping him.

The humming emanating from the Black Box felt… familiar. Too familiar.

His mind wandered back to his visions—the memory of Artemis, of Erin’s past.

This is connected.

“...You’re not going to touch it, are you?” MEGAN asked, blinking rapidly as she saw Julian reach out his hand.

“I just want to know what it is.” Julian whispered, his fingers hovering just inches from its surface. “I’ll pull away if I sense anything dangerous.”

[Be careful, Master.] The Avatar of Searadyn's voice echoed in his mind. [Something about that object feels… eerily familiar.]

“See? Even Sears is warning us.”

Julian paused for a brief moment. But after a few steady breaths, he pressed his hand against the Black Box.

Immediately, its surface rippled, shifting like liquid beneath his touch.

And then—

Nothing.

No resistance. No warmth. It felt like he wasn’t even touching anything at all.

Seconds passed.

“…Nothing’s happening.” Julian exhaled, withdrawing his hand. “Let’s just get this over with and destroy it—”

“Boss!? You’re awake!?”

And then all of a sudden—a voice, familiar yet distant, jolted Julian’s senses.

His breath gasped.

His vision blurred—then very slowly cleared.

Vision…?

And suddenly, he could see.

The sky above him stretched out, vast and endless—the familiar violet hues of Artemia.

With a sharp inhale, he sat up—only for the world around him to shift as if he were moving.

Wood creaked. The gentle sway of motion rocked beneath him.

A cart.

He was on a cart, being pulled by zautoros—the massive, native buffalo-like beasts of Artemia.

“Huh…?”

He blinked, his thoughts scrambling for clarity.

What’s… happening?

“Boss?”

Julian turned his head, only to see Cyrus, fast asleep beside him.

His gaze then snapped forward—locking onto Juliet, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Boss? Are you alright?”

Her voice was filled with confusion, but it couldn’t compare to what Julian was feeling right about now.

“Why… are you here at this time?” She asked again, and Julian just stared at her, his throat feeling dry. But after a few more moments, he finally answered the only thing he could:

“That… I don’t know.”

[LAST CHAPTER] <-----> [NEXT CHAPTER]

AUTHOR NOTES

What is this!? Plot on my blacksmithing novel!?