Drip, drop, drip.
Water droplets fell from the cave wall above, landing on her fair skin.
In the pitch-black cave where one couldn't see their own hand, a petite girl with long white hair sat idly in a corner of the rock wall, bound to a metal chair.
She was dressed in a black Abyssal Hunter uniform, and she brought a water droplet that had landed on her cheek to her mouth, gently licking it with the tip of her pink tongue.
It was salty, with a hint of fishiness.
"The bottom of the sea, I wonder how deep it is. It's truly a good place to imprison someone."
A small smile revealed her somewhat sharp teeth, and the girl's red eyes were filled with murderous intent and vigilance.
The girl swung her arm, slamming it against the machine behind her with immense force, even creating bursts of explosive sound in the air.
Clang—
With a dull thud, the girl's arm stopped mid-air.
Thick, heavy alloy collars were fastened around her neck, limbs, and waist, restricting her movement to an extremely small space, preventing her from even straightening her arms.
No, that went beyond what "collar" could describe; each one weighed thirty to forty kilograms, and if not for the girl's excessively powerful Physique, her bones would likely have been crushed.
However, for the white-haired girl, this weight was merely "a bit" troublesome.
Of course, if not for her monstrous strength, those who imprisoned her wouldn't have gone to such great lengths to procure such sturdy shackles.
A week ago, when she woke up, she was already imprisoned here.
Her last memories were exceptionally blurry; the girl only remembered her squad and captain together blocking the surging tide of Seaborn, creating a brief window for a large group of her Hunter sisters to perform a decapitation strike.
Finally, a figure broke through the wall of flesh formed by Seaborn and Abyssal Hunters, swinging a heavy mechanical greatsword at that twisted entity.
She didn't know if Aegir had won that final battle.
But clearly, she herself had been captured.
"Tsk, how embarrassing."
Through the prison bars, which were energized with ultra-high voltage, the girl looked at the bright space before her, where figures in green robes moved back and forth, not bothering to conceal the murderous intent in her crimson eyes.
"Five, six, seven."
She memorized each different guard based on their attire and gait, firmly embedding them in her memory, emphasizing it to herself again and again.
In the more than a week she had been held captive by these Abyssal Cult scoundrels, she had undergone various experiments, one of which caused particularly severe damage, affecting her mind.
Now, the girl's periods of lucidity were growing shorter and shorter; perhaps soon, she would forget who she originally was.
But she would absolutely never forget her mission; even if she fell into madness, she would kill all blasphemous beings!
Tap, tap, tap.
Just then, a figure holding a scepter slowly approached the cage.
Unlike the others, who were tightly wrapped in robes, his attire appeared more... luxurious.
The scepter was inlaid with crimson gold carvings, and his hood was down. This somewhat effeminate, handsome man had curly green hair, and a faint green glow constantly emanated from his listless eyes.
"Are you settling in well, Nona Specter? I heard you're not satisfied with the accommodation here. I'm truly sorry, but this is all we can manage."
Although a faint smile played on his lips, to the girl, this smile was nothing short of the most nauseating sarcasm.
"Then I should thank you for your hospitality, Inquisitor Quintus! When I get out, you and your mother will die, I guarantee it!"
The girl—Specter—revealed a terrifying smile, her entire body abruptly leaning forward, like a great shark poised to pounce on its prey.
This was the Abyssal Church, a group of people so insane they worshipped Seaborn, treating a mass of flesh as their god.
In Aegir, a small fraction of fools did this—in Specter's opinion, utterly idiotic.
And as they traveled to the land, even more great fools among the land-dwellers, or those who already harbored fantasies about the Seaborn frequently appearing on the coast in recent years, also joined the Abyssal Church.
Clearly, Quintus was one of those fools from Aegir.
Clang—
But unfortunately, the repeatedly reinforced alloy chains merely trembled slightly under Specter's struggles, remaining sturdy.
After Specter nearly broke free twice, costing the lives of nearly ten Abyssal Cult members, the Abyssal Church immediately replaced them with the strongest chains.
"Crude, lowly, arrogant, rude; you Abyssal Hunters are nothing but mongrels with inferior hides."
Hearing Specter's vulgarity, the man called Quintus wasn't angered. He merely looked down at Specter with disdain, even pinching his nose in disgust, making no attempt to hide his contempt for Specter.
"You should feel fortunate; you still have value in this experiment. The liquefied Ore injected into your body is far more valuable than you, a spawn cooped up at the bottom of the sea—if evenly diluted, it would be enough to infect a small country."
Looking at the tubes connected to Specter's back, Quintus's smile widened—the valuable instruments beside him, the large amount of concentrated liquefied Ore, had almost depleted all his savings in recent years, and he had even used a lot of money from wealthy believers. But fortunately, everything was progressing smoothly.
"How marvelous it is. The Ore contamination most feared by terrestrial life, even one ten-thousandth of which can cause acute oripathy, hasn't caused a single crystal to appear in your body."
Spreading his arms, Quintus appeared to be praising Specter, but in reality, he was showing off.
"Isn't it interesting that the original sin of terrestrial livestock can take effect on you abominations? But we are different, brothers and sisters. We will cast off sin and embrace the sea. We are with our Lord, and glorious evolution never stops!"
In his view, Aegir in the sea was no different from livestock on land; both were foolish and inferior beings.
Only the Seaborn, children of the sea, were the true truth of this world, and they were to become Seaborn!
Through the study of this marine abomination, Quintus believed he would surpass his rivals in the church and discover the ultimate weakness of the Aegir people.
After all, they were the great enemies of the children of the sea.
"May the Lord have mercy."
"You and I are of one heart."
As he loudly shouted, the group of mumbling Abyssal Cultists behind him also began to echo in low voices, holding hands, appearing harmonious.
However, at this moment, an untimely voice interrupted again.
"Hahahahahahaha—I'm dying of laughter! It's like disgust's mom opened the door for disgust, utterly disgusting! Ugh!"
Rolling her eyes disdainfully, Specter already had a fiery temper. Even before becoming an Abyssal Hunter, she was a bit of a delinquent in school, and now she directly used the most vulgar language to mock these brain-dead members of the Abyssal Church.
"You're giving up being a perfectly good human to become seaweed? Was your mom impregnated by a sea turtle and then hatched you from an egg? No wonder you're so greenish-blue; go get some sun. Too much seawater in your head will make you swell up, ptui!"
Although her captain always said that Specter lowered the baseline of Abyssal Hunter quality and found her embarrassing, Specter felt this way of cursing was particularly satisfying!
A string of the most vicious insults passed through the prison door, directly striking Quintus, making him tremble with rage. His face, which he had specially prepared for interacting with Inquisitors, turned crimson, then began to turn greenish.
"You... you mongrel! Lowly creature! Idiot! Moron!"
However, as someone who was originally from the Aegir upper class before infiltrating Iberia, how many Aegir curses had he learned since childhood?
Scouring his mind, Quintus finally came up with a few insults he thought were very offensive, but they didn't make Specter even blink; instead, she smiled even more brightly.
Finally, realizing he couldn't out-argue Specter, Quintus roared and pressed a button on the experimental table beside him.
"Enough, you bitch! I will turn you into the Abyssal Church's most loyal believer, and your foolish little companion who delivered herself to us—you will both become the key to our ascension!"
As the machine operated, the golden-yellow liquid level inside the explosion-proof tank, containing high-concentration liquefied Ore, began to drop, injecting into Specter's spine through the metal chair behind her.
"Companion—ha, just try it. You wouldn't think that just because you caught me while I'm weak, you can deal with another Abyssal Hunter, would you? I'd be very happy to see you cut into pieces."
Hearing the word "companion," Specter's blood-red eyes lit up, but then, a massive sense of Chaos began to overwhelm her mind.
She began to feel low, murmuring whispers calling to her, urging her to believe in the sea.
"No matter who it is, Abyssal Hunter or whatever, just kill him..."
Finally, Specter fell into a deep sleep, her previously frenzied face becoming calm and beautiful, like a sleeping Saintess.
"Then let's wait and see. Your foolish little friend is currently playing house with a terrestrial abomination—you will be the best test subjects!"
Opening several monitors pre-installed in Saltwind City next to the instrument, Quintus, who still had ample funds and a decent number of subordinates, looked at the two figures walking on the street.
"Ha, little Hunter, you won't escape my net—as for your weak terrestrial beast companion, I will give him a somewhat dignified death."
With a disdainful gaze, he looked at the Abyssal Hunter in the red dress carrying a suitcase. Quintus didn't even pay attention to the black-clad Hunter beside her.
Quintus waved his hand, and the group of cultists behind him took keys and headed towards the depths of the nearby cave, from which viscous sounds and bone-grinding noises emanated.
"You, take the weapons bestowed upon us by the messenger, let him become our nourishment, and bring back that little Hunter—remember to avoid the Inquisitors. If they die, the Inquisition's investigation will follow, and we'll have to move."
Quintus certainly didn't think there was anything to be wary of about the man wearing clothing similar to an Inquisitor.
"...After all, you're just a weak terrestrial beast."
Quintus curled his lips, a smile reappearing on his face.
A hunter who could at most kill wild boars, yet dared to contend with believers of a god—it was unthinkable.
Compared to this easily manipulated terrestrial species, Quintus was willing to invest more effort into that confused Abyssal Hunter.
Everything was under control.
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