Blood, Curse, and Gift

Here’s the chapter. About three days later than I wanted, but things are getting back to normal now.

This chapter is the last of the rewards. The next chapter wraps up everything Devas still needs to finish in Terraria, and by the end of it, he’ll already be heading to another world. This was supposed to happen in this chapter, but if I had done that, it would’ve ended up massive—like 20,000 words—so I split it in half.

Once again—I’ve said this before—I apologize for these “boring” chapters, but I can’t skip them without leaving too many loose ends, and the story would start to feel vague.

I won’t drag this out—have a good night, everyone, and enjoy the read!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

[...]---[...]

I spent the next few minutes running a few small tests on the “Moon Shield.”

I started calling it that mentally because it was a much simpler name than the censored version the stream used, or even its actual name.

The original name still existed, of course. If I clicked on the item’s name, I could change it back to the original, but just like the stream thought it was in good taste to censor that thing, I agreed.

The name of that abomination on the Moon was something that, in my opinion, shouldn’t be spoken, thought about, or even remembered.

I didn’t dig too deeply into the spatial distortion ability. I focused more on observing how the shield’s flesh behaved while bound to me.

I hesitated to call it a parasite.

Parasites act on their own, actively drain resources, and try to assert dominance over the host. The shield did none of that. It did need my vitality, yes—but in a frankly pathetic amount.

Still, I also hesitated to call it a symbiont. The relationship wasn’t one of mutual exchange or shared dependence.

The symbiosis there was far too shallow for that. The thing was useful because of its abilities and needed my vitality, but it barely qualified as symbiosis at all.

The shield didn’t offer me anything spontaneously, nor did it make decisions on its own. In practice, it was just dead flesh attached to me.

The name of the ability was actually very accurate. Foreign Flesh was literal. The shield’s flesh needed a living body to function as a kind of biological anchor.

After my tests, I reshaped the shield once more into a black cloth bracelet on my right wrist.

“For someone who claims to hate the Moon, you seem pretty happy collecting parts of it,” Jinn commented beside me, wearing a light, amused smile. She crossed her legs and leaned slightly forward. “Are you going to feed the Shield or the Teardrop with ‘The Eye’s’ flesh later?”

“I don’t know yet… but probably, yeah,” I hummed. I couldn’t say it wasn’t something I’d already thought about. “I’ll run a few tests first, in the Teardrop’s case. The Shield is simpler.”

I didn’t know what would happen if I fed 'The Right Eye' with the dead flesh of 'The Left Eye,' but feeding the shield shouldn’t pose any danger at all.

In the end, both were the same thing: dead flesh, nothing more. Still, when comparing the Shield to the Teardrop, there was a major difference between them.

As dead as the eye in the Teardrop was, at the same time it wasn’t completely dead. It existed in a strange in-between state that basically prevented it from dying one hundred percent. That was why the “Witch Doctor” and the “Guide” hadn’t been able to kill it—only seal it.

But in the case of 'The Left Eye,' or 'The Eye,' it was different.

That thing was dead. It wouldn’t resurrect in anyone’s left eye. There wasn’t even the slightest possibility of it returning, being reborn, reviving—whatever you wanted to call it.

It was dead.

The sins of humanity had incinerated it forever…

With that, I finally moved on to the last of the many mission rewards. There really were more than I’d expected—though I certainly wasn’t complaining.

I pressed the section labeled Secondary Objective (6).

Like most of the other rewards, the Chalice of the Blood God appeared on the panel in front of the chair I was sitting in, before Proto-A’s darkened monitor.

And the item was… different from what I’d expected.

As the name suggested, it was a chalice. Just that. A simple chalice, normal in size, made of iron—or at least something that looked like iron.

The metal was dark, rusted, riddled with small cracks, and one large fracture ran down its side all the way to the base of the cup.

And that was it.

It didn’t smell of blood or rot, didn’t radiate any aura, had no presence whatsoever, no divinity, no Mystic Symbols or Runes engraved on it.

It had absolutely fucking nothing!

What kind of adjectives were these?! This thing was even worse than when I first saw Shadowflame after Jille.

It would’ve been easier to just write: “This item is royally fucked.” Much simpler!

…Had I been scammed?

I grabbed the chalice with my right hand, holding it palm-up, its stem resting between my middle and ring fingers.

I used Analyze: Item.

-//-

[Chalice of the Blood God (Broken, Devastatingly Weakened, Fractured)]

Type: AccessoryRarity: White (Devastatingly Weakened)Prefix: [Within Blood abideth the Wellspring of All That Be]

Durability: 823 / 10³³ (Devastatingly damaged)

[..]

Ability — [Within Blood abideth the Wellspring of All That Be]:

The Chalice of the Blood God is incapable of regenerating through conventional means.

Its restoration occurs exclusively through the absorption of blood poured into its cup. The blood is absorbed and used as sacrifice, gradually reconstructing its structure, essence, and lost functions.

The Chalice’s progression is divided into Restoration Stages. Each stage represents a higher level of integrity and unlocks new capabilities.

Blood from extremely powerful creatures, magical entities, or ancient beings is counted as dozens, hundreds, or even thousands or millions of liters of normal blood, drastically reducing the required volume.

[..]

Previous Restoration Stage: Gray

Ability Name: Blood Pact

Effect:Allows the Chalice to seal Blood Pacts.

A pact is formed directly between the Chalice and an individual. The first pact establishes the Bearer, who becomes the Master of the Chalice.

While the pact exists, the Chalice recognizes only the will of its Master.

The bond persists until the Chalice is destroyed or the Bearer dies.

Through the Chalice, the Bearer may seal secondary pacts with other individuals, using blood as the medium.

Current Pact Status:

Primary Pact: Inactive — no master.Secondary Pacts: None active (3 slots available)

[..]

Current Restoration Stage: White

Ability Name: Blood Wellspring

Effect:Allows the Chalice to store a near-infinite amount of blood within itself.

Stored blood: 0 liters

[..]

Next Restoration Stage: Blue

Ability Name: Blood Transmutation

Effect:Upon reaching the Blue Stage, the Chalice gains the ability to convert any blood poured into its cup into another type of blood.

The greater the vital potency of the desired blood, the larger the quantity of weaker blood required for conversion.

At the Blue Restoration Stage, the Chalice gains the ability to create new types of blood. However, it can only convert blood into types it already knows—those that have previously been sacrificed to and absorbed by it.

Known blood types: None

[..]

Requirements to Ascend to the Blue Stage: 10,000 litersRemaining blood to be sacrificed: 10,000 liters

[..]

Description:

An extremely ancient chalice, severely damaged in a colossal war that exists in the memory of no living being, no dead being, no sealed being—no being at all.

Even the world’s memory struggles to recall myths of such an ancient war.

The recollection is flawed, imposed in a way that references only the name given to a God.

The Chalice of the Blood God. A God’s Chalice.

That designation was largely incorrect.

There was no God of Blood.

What was interpreted as a chalice from which a deity once drank was, in truth, a manifestation of blood itself—the primordial substance that precedes will, consciousness, and form in all existence.

The source of all vitality, the medium through which existence persists, and the final destination of all that exists.

For, in the end, everyone forgot a single fact: Within Blood abideth the Wellspring of All That Be.

[..]

~ “All that for a drop of blood…” ~

-//-

How funny… of all things, I ended up with something related to pacts. Existence had a very acidic sense of humor.

Of everything this chalice represented, the first thing that caught my attention was its durability.

“Holy shit… since when did things start being counted in powers? What the hell kind of number is this?” I started doing the math in my head, but Jinn answered before I could finish.

“A decillion. That’s… that’s a lot,” she said, staring silently at the chalice in my hand. “And it’s hanging by a thread. I’m genuinely terrified of what—or who—could have caused this in that so-called ancient war.”

A war that clearly wasn’t the one the World fought against 'The Moon', since Alalia and the planet remembered that one perfectly well…

“How about we don’t talk about a war so old that even the World itself forgot it?” I replied, slowly spinning the chalice in my hand. “I’m afraid that if we talk about it out loud for too long, I’ll somehow end up involved.”

“You do realize what you’re holding, right?”

“I do. And I’m considering throwing it as far away as possible… Honestly, I think there were only two or three items I got today that didn’t make me think that.”

I let out another long sigh and placed the chalice on the panel in front of me.

I activated the Transparent World for a few seconds before shutting it off again. I analyzed the item with my mana, spiritual energy, and nightmare energy.

Then I poked at it with Divine Anathema, the Shadow Puppet, and even Echo Humanitatis.

When I finished my tests, I simply stared at it in silence again.

I hadn’t learned much.

The chalice was made of iron, which made sense. There really weren’t any Runes or Mystic Symbols on it, even broken and worn as it was. I had no idea how the damn thing worked; it had to be some conceptual level of bullshit I hadn’t reached yet.

The only thing I had figured out was that this thing didn’t have—or at least, I thought it didn’t have—consciousness. If it ever had one, it didn’t anymore. Or, again, I thought so.

Still, I was hesitant to bind myself to it.

Shadowflame alone had already been something that could’ve royally fucked me when I bound myself to it. Let alone an item literally called the Chalice of the Blood God, that made actual fucking pacts, and whose main ability used language so archaic I had to ask Jarvis what some of the words even meant.

But even with my paranoia about suspicious magical items dialed up to eleven, there were things in the chalice’s favor. Three of them, actually: Excalibur Asura, Shadowflame, and my instincts didn’t judge it as something that would be dangerous to me.

Even though my paranoia had grown since the conversation I’d had with the Shadow Puppet—myself, technically, in the Spiritual Realm—I still trusted my instincts, just as I trusted Shadowflame and Excalibur Asura.

With all three aligned, I didn’t hesitate anymore.

Before anyone could tell me not to, I drove the thumbnail of my right thumb into the tip of my right index finger.

Slowly, a single drop of blood slid out of the wound—which sealed itself instantly—and fell into the chalice.

The blood splashed against the dark metal, droplets clinging to the inner walls of the bowl. Nothing happened at first, until the metal of the chalice began to change.

The dark, rusted, dirty iron-colored metal fully oxidized, turning brown. Then it began to redden, until it reached a blood-red tone identical to the color of the drop of blood I’d let fall inside.

Just as it mimicked the color of my blood, it mimicked its consistency and texture as well. The red metal began to melt, collapsing in on itself until it became a small pool of blood on the panel in front of me.

Then the pool began to contract. The red liquid gathered, swirling until it became a single, solitary drop of blood.

And then, as if the scene from moments ago were replaying in reverse, the drop rose into the air, back toward my finger.

The wound had closed long ago, but it didn’t matter.

The moment the drop touched my skin, it was absorbed, and an extremely strong connection formed between me and the chalice.

It was practically the same kind of connection I had with Shadowflame. The difference was that Shadowflame’s test had burned me with the weight of my sins—this one was basically free.

The comparison wasn’t even funny.

I didn’t need to pass any test, and the connection between me and the chalice was perfect. Yes, perfect compatibility—not because I was perfectly compatible with the chalice, but because the chalice reshaped itself to be perfectly compatible with me.

The name of the ability was far deeper and more terrifying than I’d expected…

I could feel the drop of blood that was the chalice flowing through my bloodstream until it reached my heart, where it stopped in my left atrium. The name came to me instinctively.

There, the chalice reshaped itself again into a miniature version of what it had once been.

Then it stopped. It didn’t drink my blood. It didn’t do anything. It just stayed there, slowly rotating around its own axis, waiting for a command from me.

I stayed silent as the information flowed into me.

“Are you okay?” I heard Jinn ask after a second. I could feel Millia’s concern leaking through as well, though she stayed silent. “Did something go wrong?”

“No, just…” I replied distractedly, raising a finger. “I’m absorbing the information that binding to this thing gave me. Give me a second to organize it.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and focused on the instinctive information and the new sensations I was feeling.

I could feel my blood. All of it.

It was fucking bizarre. I knew how my blood circulated, how it worked, how it carried oxygen through my body, how it transported nutrients. I knew everything.

I couldn’t control my blood—at least, not yet. I could tell that would become possible as the chalice recovered. Not just my blood, but all blood.

Not only that: I knew the difference between how my blood functioned and how another human’s blood should function. The differences in flesh, muscle, organs, and bone.

Anything that had blood, I could distinguish.

The knowledge hadn’t come from the chalice alone, but also from Echo Humanitatis.

I could feel that part of me resonating with the chalice, with blood itself. Because in the end, the chalice was now both something separate from me and, at the same time, my blood. It was confusing.

The instinctive knowledge stored in my DNA, in my racial trait—the evolutionary, instinctive knowledge—was no longer just instinct. It was becoming conscious.

I knew how a human body worked. I knew how to break it, how to heal it, how to improve it, how to kill it… I knew what it meant to be human.

I am human; nothing human is foreign to me…

The flood of information should’ve made my head explode in pain even worse than before—but it didn’t. It felt as if that knowledge had always been there; I had merely remembered it.

I also felt Divine Anathema resonate with my blood, in a way similar—but far more subtle—than Echo Humanitatis.

But unlike Echo Humanitatis, something was missing.

I had theoretical knowledge—things that were viable and possible in theory—but no real experience. I hadn’t fully put those theories into practice.

Most of the knowledge I had was about The Eye, and even that was limited.

I had torn 'The Eye' apart, shredded it, broken it, bathed in Blood Moon blood, and had a portion of its flesh superficially bound to me through the Moon Shield—but that was all.

Something was missing…

I still hadn’t tasted the blood of a God…

[…]

By the time I finished going through the rewards, night was already beginning to fall.

The sky outside Proto-A’s window almost felt like it was copying me. Golden hues from Divine Anathema and orange tones from Echo Humanitatis blended into a deep purple that reminded me of Shadowflame’s coloration.

I didn’t do much else with the chalice beyond ordering it to drink my blood slowly. It was designed in such a way that, even while resting inside my heart, I couldn’t feel it at all.

I stood up, Jinn walking beside me, and headed toward Proto-A’s entrance. I could feel the others arriving in the realm.

Millia was perched on top of my head, since this shirt didn’t have the pocket she usually stayed in, and the nameless fox was sitting on my right shoulder.

The little guy had woken up and immediately bolted away from Jinn the moment he opened his eyes.

As for the two 'Living IV Supports', both were walking behind me like before, their roots functioning as strange, semi-tentacled feet.

I didn’t really need them, but they were nourishing the seed in my Spiritual Realm, so they were useful.

I glanced at the minimap before activating Transparent World for a brief moment, then turning it off again.

The others had already finished their own things. Gotten their thoughts in order and, in Alalia’s case, finished tending to the garden.

Most of them were in the cafeteria, talking.

The dryad was the only one outside—she was actually asleep inside the “nest” she had made. I didn’t wake her.

At Proto-A’s entrance, the rest of the group had arrived as well. Helena and Melissa together, with Darnell a bit behind them, coming in with the rest of Team Pebble: Ahinadab, Maribel, and Beldin.

Team Pebble thanked me the moment they saw me. Beldin even grabbed my legs and lifted me up in some kind of weird hug, thanking me for saving Ísis during the Blood Moon.

Technically, she’d only been in the realm because of me in the first place, so I didn’t really feel like I’d saved her—just that I’d prevented her from dying because of my mistake.

Still, it was good that they didn’t hold a grudge.

I also noticed that Maribel was wearing sunglasses, similar to Selina’s steampunk goggles.

She told me they were a gift from the "Steampunker" and Dylan, made after they heard about her extreme sensitivity to mana. They did the opposite of what such items usually did: instead of letting her see mana, they obscured it and acted as a dampener for her other senses as well.

That was probably why she wasn’t curled up on the ground just from being near me—my mana had more than doubled since Shahrabad, and back in the desert she’d barely been able to tolerate standing close to me because of how sensitive she was.

I also noticed her emotions fluctuated slightly when she talked about Selina. A crush, probably. Ísis had said she was bisexual, hadn’t she?

I’d say I was rooting for her, but that would be a lie. I felt more pity than anything else. Maribel would have better chances with Selina if she were made of metal instead of flesh.

Everyone was wearing more casual clothes: simple shirts and long pants because of the cold. Ahinadab was the exception, wearing traditional Shahrabad clothing.

And speaking of Selina—she was the last to show up.

I waited alone with Millia and the nameless fox, sitting on the ship’s entrance ramp, chatting with (CHAT) while I waited for her.

Jinn had taken everyone else inside Proto-A to explain everything that had already been explained to them before. Delegating work was good. Ozma wholeheartedly approved.

The old man was fishing Nightmares in the sea of my Spiritual Realm. And speaking of Nightmares, I needed to go pick up Tyrian…

Selina showed up almost half an hour later, reeking of soot and oil, her clothes and skin smeared with grease, and a purple bruise on her cheek like she’d taken a punch.

She was wearing the same steampunker outfit as always. Just dirtier.

“So,” I asked, standing up, “who do I need to kill?”

I needed Terrarian blood anyway…

Selina snorted through her nose, smiling. “The Humvee. I found it after the battle and was fixing the broken parts when one of them fell right into my face.”

She walked over and gave me a quick hug before stepping back.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried.” She pulled something from her pocket and offered it to me—a ring.

“Skipping a few steps, aren’t we? Haven’t I already said I refuse to marry you?” I joked as I took the ring. It was a Travel Space.

“You know, saying things like that can hurt my feelings. I might start thinking I’m ugly.” She didn’t look offended in the slightest and kept smiling. “The Humvee’s there. I think I fully fixed it over the last three days, but take a look later.”

I nodded, slipping the ring into my Voidbag. Then I pulled out a Lesser Potion from my inventory and handed it to her. “Drink this. Your skin looks better without a massive bruise.”

“Oh? A compliment right after rejecting my marriage proposal. Feeding me just enough to keep me from dying? How cruel!” She clutched her chest dramatically, then opened the potion and drank it in one go.

Afterward, she tossed the empty bottle back to me. I stored it away—I could refill it later.

I shook my head and used Shadowflame to burn the grime off her body.

Selina blinked twice, looking at her arms, then turned around to look at her own ass. She even pulled her pants and underwear back, literally checking her butt cheeks.

“Wow. You even cleaned the oil off here.” Her smile grew more provocative. “If you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just asked, Big Leader. You didn’t need to use ‘cleaning me’ as an excuse to grope my whole body.”

I was about to reply when two messages popped up in front of me:

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]You gonna call me crazy again if I say that was flirting? You gonna pretend I’m the crazy one again, huh?! HUH?! Fuck off! I’m the sanest one here.(Emote of a normal guy wearing a three-colored pointy wig, kneeling and slamming both hands on the ground.)

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]That said, can you lend me some gold bars? I’m kinda broke right now. I’ll pay you back later when I find Aqua’s hairbrush. She got banned, so fuck the agreement about not selling her hair.

I blinked twice.

“Same price as before. We’ll talk later,” I said, looking at the camera. Kazuma sent two thumbs-up hand emotes.

I wasn’t opposed to getting more goddess hair. The stash I had was running low.

“Talking to your viewers?” Selina stepped closer, looking where I was looking and waving. She seemed to drop the earlier teasing. “You know, sometimes I forget you have people watching you twenty-four seven. How many are there right now?”

I glanced at the number in the corner of my vision:

[Viewers: 14,728]

“Fourteen thousand. Almost fifteen.” The number was climbing—probably about to hit the peak Jarvis had mentioned earlier.

Selina whistled, impressed.

“Damn. And here I am flirting in front of a crowd that big. How embarrassing.” She didn’t look embarrassed at all. “Did they see my nice white ass when I pulled my pants back?”

I swatted away the message Kazuma was forming before it could fly out of her underwear.

That shit coming as panties was weird the first time—and it still was now.

“They didn’t. I’ve got nudity filters on. If you went naked, they’d just see a blur.” I grabbed her wrist. “That’s not a challenge.”

She laughed, taking her hands off her waistband.

“I was just fixing my belt. You didn’t seriously think I was about to strip, did you?”

“You’re crazy enough to.”

There was no way Selina didn’t have some kind of disorder. I didn’t know which one—but I knew it existed.

After a bit more conversation, we entered Proto-A.

“That fox there—what is it?” Selina pointed at the fox on my shoulder. “Gift from Robyn? What’s its name?”

“Stream reward. Doesn’t have a name yet.” I didn’t elaborate. I grabbed the fox by the scruff and handed it to her. “Here. It’s male.”

She held the tiny fox in one hand and lifted it closer to her face. The fox immediately grew in size, forcing her to grab it with both hands.

“It does that too.”

“I noticed…” She turned to me with a slightly manic grin. “You know, I just had an idea. Can I throw him at Robyn’s fox and let him fuck her?”

I blinked. Slowly.

“You’re insane. But go ahead.” I will never admit I had the same idea.

Selina had it first. She’s responsible.

I couldn’t stop her because of my injuries, obviously, and I most definitely did not mention that the fox was male on purpose, I swear…

[…]

After that, the night went on without many issues. The conversation I had with the others was calm—well, partially. It was confusing as hell.

In the end, I actually used Analyze: Item on someone.

I explained how it worked to everyone beforehand, of course.

The fact that I could practically read everything about the person being analyzed made some of them uneasy. Letting someone know almost everything about you wasn’t an easy thing, even if they trusted me…

Dylan volunteered without hesitation.

Well, there was a reason I called him my brother. I’ll make damn sure he stays far away from lava pits and hell at all costs.

Dylan extended his hand, and I grabbed it in a firm handshake.

And the cost to use Analyze: Item on him was expensive as hell.

[85,181,500 SP required to analyze the individual: Dylan Oakwood — The Guide]

Seriously, I remembered considering using Analyze: Item on Dylan and the others back in Winterhord to check the hallucination issue, and it wasn’t even close to that number.

The cost back then was around one and a half million SP, with Gilbert being the cheapest at five hundred thousand.

What kind of inflation was this? It hadn’t even been two months, and analyzing him was almost sixty times more expensive?! What the hell?!

I had more than enough SP, sure. It wasn’t something I couldn’t afford, but that price change was ridiculous…

I spent the SP and used Analyze on him:

-//-

Name: Dylan Oakwood

Title: The Guide (Sealed until the breaking of the Wall That Separates and Seals the World)

Age: 20

Race: Terrarian (Mutant) (Almost fully sealed) (+)

Sex: Male

Energies: Mana (+)

Current Status: Fatigued, pensive, sleepy (+)

Racial Traits: (+)

Abilities: (+)

Description: (+)

-//-

I analyzed Dylan’s status carefully. His current condition matched what I could see with my own eyes—the guy looked exhausted.

His energy was also completely normal. Just mana, nothing else.

The problem started when I checked his race. And it wasn’t even because Dylan was apparently a mutant piece of shit:

-//-

[Terrarian (Mutant) — Ranking: C > C+ (Sealed)](With each seal unlocked, the species’ ranking increases)

Description:

A race created in a laboratory to serve as the perfect army of the Empress of Light, designed to respond to any type of invasion—whether from outside the World or from other continents.

Terrarians were molded from the three main races of the Alliance of that era.

Terrarian bodies are based on those of the Fae, inheriting their natural affinity for magic, potential for Rune usage, and high compatibility with mana.

Their potential for creation, Mystic Symbols, engineering, and warfare is derived from Goblins, reflected in their capacity for strategic adaptation, mass production, and conflict-oriented thinking.

The way their mana behaves, as well as their extreme adaptability, originates from Slimes, allowing their vital energy to adjust, flow, and react to external stimuli in a non-rigid manner.

The species’ only structural weakness lies in how mind and soul react to mana exhaustion.

The more depleted a Terrarian’s mana becomes, the greater the stress placed on their soul, resulting in apathy, depression, and a gradual loss of will. In this state, Terrarians become increasingly susceptible to mental manipulation, soul distortion, corruption, and external contamination.

The true potential of the species is sealed.

This seal is anchored both to the planet itself and to the contaminated remnants of the World’s enemies, as well as the curse originating from fragments and body parts of “The Moon.”

A fraction of this seal was destroyed with the death of “The Eye,” initiating a gradual collective unlocking process.

As a consequence, the eyes of Terrarians across the world began to evolve, enhancing vision, perception, mana detection, and, in rare cases, awakening primitive forms of mana sight.

Function:

An artificial species created for prolonged warfare and absolute adaptation.

Terrarians exhibit accelerated growth under extreme pressure, high compatibility with magical, technological, and hybrid systems, and can use nearly any artifact without severe consequences. Their latent potential responds directly to the breaking of global seals.

The more seals are destroyed, the closer the species comes to its original purpose.

Mutant: The species’ mutation manifests across multiple areas, drastically increasing potential and adaptability compared to their peers.

-//-

Right...

I let out a long sigh. Then I looked back at Dylan’s status and sighed again.

“Today is a terrible day to know how to read.”

The description of his title and innate ability was just as bad.

... Fucking cursed planet!

[…]

After the extremely unpleasant discoveries about the Terrarians, the discussion that followed was utterly exhausting.

I didn’t analyze everyone in the room—that would’ve fucked my SP. I had a lot, but it wasn’t infinite. Still, the ones I did analyze were already enough to give me a headache.

Look on the bright side: we figured out why Charlotte, Isis, and Dylan said their vision had been weirdly sharp! All of them were experiencing it!

Funny thing is, thinking about it now, I had analyzed other Terrarians before and never once checked their race. I almost always looked only at their status. If I’d gone further, I would’ve discovered much earlier that they were all an artificially created species—back in Jille, even.

I had checked the status of people during the Blood Moon to identify diseases. The descriptions were almost always the same.

It made absolutely no sense how I let this slip by.

Even Beldin had the same seals as Terrarians, because he was one too. A subspecies, technically: Terrarian (Dwarf).

The other species—Beastkins, Lamias, and Lizardmen—followed the same pattern. But their descriptions, like Beldin’s, had a key difference: they were considered subspecies because they were hybrids.

There wasn’t even such a thing as a half-Terrarian. It was just a hybrid with a different appearance.

Whatever had happened in the war fifteen thousand years ago had left, basically, only Terrarians alive. The few survivors of other species bred with them, and their descendants did the same.

In the end, the Terrarian species became dominant, and everything else was pushed into subspecies status.

That was pretty damn grim. And part of me felt like it hadn’t been natural.

Something stank. It felt like someone had been guiding this “hybridization” behind the scenes, ensuring the planet became mostly Terrarian—or, more precisely, artificial soldiers.

Magical eugenics was not on my fucking bingo card when I woke up today…

This fucking planet was cursed. There was no other explanation.

The worst part was that Alalia didn’t know about this either and simply believed that Terrarians were something natural. To her, they seemed natural.

Which, to a certain extent, I could understand why.

Alalia not knowing that Terrarians were artificially created could be explained by the fact that this information wasn’t public knowledge. She herself said she didn’t know, and that the other people from her era she knew—dryads or otherwise—didn’t know either.

Given that, since she didn’t originally possess that knowledge, when she later received the authorities she now held, the idea of “Terrarians are natural” was already present in her mind.

“All things born in the world are natural.” That was her authority. Terrarians were created artificially, but still within the world.

That, combined with the fact that Alalia perceived them as just another race, essentially guaranteed that they would be treated as one.

Not that they were unnatural—after all, they were made based on natural beings. But Alalia’s “mistake” practically ensured that Terrarians would be accepted as natural by the planet itself.

Something natural, after all. If the highest authority said it was, then it had to be.

It was so absurdly convenient that it made my skin itch.

I didn’t know what things were like before Alalia came from the past five hundred years ago, but I was certain that Terrarians back then were different from the ones that exist now.

And something told me that this difference was the main reason why so many things had started happening all at once in these recent generations…

At this point, if some random beggar on the street tripped, I wasn’t even sure anymore that it was actually random—and not something planned.

One domino piece had fallen, and all the others had started to topple slowly… then I fell into this world out of nowhere and accidentally stopped that sequence…

After that, I went back to analyzing the differences between the races of Terraria.

I decided to analyze a goblin to check whether there was anything different compared to Terrarians—or if he, too, was a subspecies.

His species was simply Goblin, not Terrarian (Goblin). And I didn’t even know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I analyzed others, and they were all pure goblins. They seemed to be one of the few species unaffected by that bizarre hybridization.

Maybe because of the curse afflicting their species. If someone really was manipulating everything behind the scenes, creating cursed hybrids would be counterproductive.

And out of everyone I analyzed, Dylan still stood out.

He was the only mutant.

I checked every status I had previously analyzed in the Kingdom, and only Dylan had “(Mutant)” next to his race.

I didn’t tell anyone about this except him. The decision to reveal it or not was his—and he chose not to. At least, not at that moment.

He said he would think about it. That the day had already been packed with enough surprises and that he just wanted to sleep, let his brain rest, and think things through later.

I agreed with him.

It was already getting late after the discussion, and most of the “lab rats,” as Selina had started mocking everyone—including herself—were tired and went to sleep.

I let them stay on the Proto-A. No one really wanted to walk back to the Kingdom, and there were more than enough rooms on the ship.

Charlotte and Helena had to inform people that they’d be sleeping elsewhere to avoid causing panic, of course. The people on the other side of the Echo Mirror complained, obviously—mostly about their safety, given recent events.

More about Charlotte than Helena. Dylan’s mother was still the juggernaut of the Kingdom, alongside Hirael. The two of them were basically the nuclear weapons they had.

But Charlotte was still the princess, and as far as whoever was on the other side of the Echo Mirror knew, she was fairly fragile. And even with Helena there as protection, they still wanted to send a garrison of guards, just as a precaution.

Which was honestly reasonable—but inconvenient.

So Charlotte dropped my name into the conversation. Or rather, she dropped: “I’ll be sleeping in the room next to the guy who incinerated the Blood Moon.” And the complaints magically stopped.

Being used as a shield was kind of funny.

After that, everyone went to sleep.

Team Pebble shared a single room. I set up bunk beds for them, since Isis asked for it for some reason. Something about liking bunk beds.

Darnell and Melissa shared a room. Selina even teased them, joking that they’d finally come out. But it was nothing—they were still “just friends.”

Dylan seemed to find that “just friends” bit pretty funny, even while exhausted and shaken by the earlier revelations.

Helena took a room for herself and said she would enjoy a good, quiet night’s sleep before tomorrow’s problems arrived. Charlotte copied the Duchess of Symbols and collapsed onto the nearest bed she could find.

Alalia returned to the garden and wrapped herself in flowers and branches inside the nest she had made earlier.

She slept hugging the two eggs—the Antlion Queen’s and the Baby God. It was kind of cute, but it looked uncomfortable as hell. Still, she seemed to like it.

Selina, Gilbert, Robyn, and Dylan slept in our team’s room.

Which I realized still didn’t have a name. It was the room they’d claimed ever since I showed them the Proto-A, back when I returned to Terraria.

It was right next to Team RWBY’s room, which actually reminded me that I still hadn’t seen their gift.

Given everything that had happened today, I had almost forgotten.

I walked outside the Proto-A, with the soft footsteps of Jinn’s bare feet following me. Millia had returned to the Slime Staff and fallen asleep some time ago, while I recalled the nameless fox back into its summon item.

I sat down on the Proto-A’s entrance ramp.

“Tired?”

“No, just… thinking. Today’s discoveries were… something, to say the least.” I answered Jinn. I let out a weary sigh and said, looking at the clearing below, “What about you? Tired?”

“Just thinking.” Same answer. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

I just nodded, not replying verbally.

Silence settled in after that. The stream was still on.

Slowly, I took a gift box out of my inventory—the same one Team RWBY had given me back in Remnant.

The box was long. Its width and height weren’t large, since whatever was inside didn’t require it. It was made of dark polished wood, with ornate details.

I knew what was inside ever since they gave it to me back in Remnant—the Voidbag kind of didn’t allow me not to know. Still, I opened the box slowly.

When the lid came off, resting inside on a deep purple cushion, were two swords.

Twin blades, slightly curved inward. Their design mixed elements from Vale, Mistral, Atlas, and even Vacuo. The girls must’ve tried to create something that represented Remnant as a whole.

To me, they looked almost like Kanshou and Bakuya. Which was deeply unsettling—both because of the coincidence and because of what the original blades represented, both in their creation and in their use by Archer.

They were inverted mirrors of each other, just like the swords of the Hound of Alaya. One black as a starless sky, the other white and pale as the face of the moon.

The black sword had a blade of deep, matte darkness. Engraved along its body, near the edge, were four symbols aligned in sequence, starting from the base toward the tip.

First, a red rose whose petals rose and curled like flames. Above it, the emblem I knew belonged to the Schnee Dust Company—a sharp, symmetrical white snowflake.

Then came the dark purple-black flame, its edges white to distinguish it from the black metal beneath. It had a smoky quality to it. Finally, near the tip, another flame—this one yellow and far more aggressive, shaped like a heart.

Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang. The personal symbols of the four of them.

The white sword was its absolute opposite. The blade was bright, a pure white. It bore none of Team RWBY’s symbols; instead, matching its color, it carried something of mine: a completely black palm with an orange eye at its center.

Both swords were covered in Mystic Symbols and a few runes. Fake ones, in this case—painted markings that served as a “guide” for me to later engrave the actual Mystic Symbols and Runes myself.

Ruby was the one who made them. She said so herself, even commenting in the (CHAT) that there were probably a lot of things wrong. She had tried to design the Mystic Symbol matrices and the positioning of everything based on what she’d seen me do.

She wasn’t wrong.

There were plenty of errors in the matrices, of course, and I could tell how to improve and reposition them with just a glance. Same thing with the runes.

But for work done by someone who was a complete novice—whose only experience was visual, since she couldn’t actually test anything herself—it was ridiculously impressive.

I stood up, swinging the two swords through the air. They had good balance and weight. Ruby was good at what she did.

I stopped when a message appeared in my vision, blooming inside a rose:

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]It’s mechashift. Join the hilts with the blades facing opposite directions and rotate them.

I did as Ruby suggested.

Both swords had subtle mechanisms near the base of the blades and where the hilts connected. I locked them together, with the black blade facing forward and the white one facing backward.

When both blades aligned in the same direction, a sharp metallic click echoed, and from the end of the black blade, a steel cable shot out and latched into a fitting at the end of the white blade.

“A compound bow…” I murmured.

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]You mentioned you wanted one back in Mistral. I thought it’d be a good gift, since you already had so many firearms. It’s made from Hunt-grade specialized carbon fiber, reinforced steel, and Scarlet Ore you gave me before…

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]Not many Hunts use bows, so I didn’t have many examples to base the mechashift system on. But I know you complained about them being overly complicated for practical weapons, so I kept it simple…

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]It probably doesn’t compare to your strongest weapons—especially the ones you got today. But I hope it helps…(Little Red Riding Hood emote smiling softly)

I read the messages slowly.

When I was done, I carefully pulled the bowstring back. I was afraid of snapping it, so I was extremely cautious.

Even though it was made of reinforced materials, it felt fragile. It was fragile.

I could tell that if I pinched the metal too hard, it would bend like wet paper.

That was one of the reasons I hadn’t even considered using the swords during the Blood Moon: they wouldn’t have survived it. Just like Houtengeki wouldn’t have—and why I hadn’t used it either.

I released the string without an arrow, listening to the metallic snap echo through the air.

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]Did you like it?…

I glanced at the message from the corner of my eye.

It was the first birthday gift I’d received in years that didn’t come from my two friends.

My smile was a little melancholic.

“It’s the best item I received today.”

[...]---[...]

As explained above, this was originally a full chapter that ended up being split in two. That’s why it didn’t end with Devas in another world.

As for the chapter itself: the Chalice is something ridiculously powerful, but it’s in the same state as the Shadowflame—actually, worse. It’s completely weakened and damaged to the point where it has lost basically all of its functions beyond the most basic ones, and it doesn’t even have consciousness anymore.

It accepted Devas as its master simply because it did. Anyone could have been accepted—the Chalice was essentially running on autopilot.

Regarding the Terrarians, I had been leaving hints here and there that they were artificially created. They are also extremely “sealed,” along with everything tied to Terraria. At their peak, they were vastly more powerful.

As for Dylan, there’s a reason he’s a (Mutant). That’s something for the future, just like the reason behind the Terrarians’ “hybridization” and everything else.

Finally, the girls’ gift from RWBY. As I mentioned before, this was meant to be introduced quite some time ago. But with all the problems I had, I couldn’t find a chapter where it fit. It’s an item that’s almost “useless,” in the sense that it wouldn’t last even half a second in a serious fight involving Devas, but it carries emotional weight and might become something more in the future.

Well, that’s it—I won’t drag this out any longer.

Good day to everyone, and enjoy the reading!