Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 797 - 462: Can’t Wait_2
"Flesh Devourer?" she said, then added, "Is this also a product of iteration?"
Previously, they had encountered a Flesh Devourer, but this one was clearly much thicker and larger. Its head, although crushed, clearly had a carapace, and other details distinguished it.
"No, no, no, this fellow is very interesting..."
Lance explained to Paracelsus the situation back then: the great battle between the Flesh Devourer and Pigmen, filled with various twists and turns, before finally returning to the current topic.
"This is a monster that evolved from a Flesh Devourer, which completed its evolution autonomously. It's just a pity the conditions at the time didn't allow for observation."
"It's even more unfortunate that only the remains are left." After learning about this creature, Paracelsus became even more interested; such a monster was truly amazing.
However, Lance didn't say much more about this. Instead, he pulled out the clumps they had collected and emphasized, "These are clumps formed by the combination of Flesh Devourer secretions and flesh. The monster's powerful healing abilities observed at that time are likely related to these. And this monster evolved after devouring a Pigman Mob, or you could say, after devouring a large amount of these mucus clumps."
"Indeed, it is a subject very worth studying." Paracelsus eyed the remains before her and adjusted her glasses.
Although she agreed, it was obvious that Lance and she focused on different aspects.
Paracelsus was more interested in exploring the Flesh Devourer itself—its evolutionary capabilities, its potent self-healing abilities...
Lance, on the other hand, believed the monster's recovery capabilities were linked to these clumps. That was why he hadn't Sacrificed it, instead leaving the mutilated corpse. He was more focused on finding a way to analyze these substances and then attempting to convert them into practical applications.
He was a Lord. A technology that could not be translated into practical use was meaningless to him. For instance, using them in healing salves could greatly alleviate the problem of healing external injuries, thereby compensating for the shortcomings of 'Flesh Reconstruction.'
That shortcoming wasn't about being stingy with Spiritual Essence, but a kind of reliance on him. Placing all hope in one person is a terrifying prospect. What if, in some battle, he didn't show up? Wouldn't the front lines collapse instantly? If such a scenario emerged, it would mean all his efforts up to this point were in vain. He did not want to see that happen.
I'm here to inherit a fortune and live a life of luxury; if you guys don't make an effort, fine, but you want me to work hard too? You can have this Lordship if you want it that badly. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He felt he had to take strong measures to suppress this unhealthy trend.
「Soon, Lance left the sanatorium.」
Although he didn't like being waited on, with his status, it wasn't possible for him to handle menial tasks himself.
Susan knew the Lord liked cleanliness, so she had hot water prepared for Lance's return. If he wanted to eat something, he just had to give an order, and someone would quickly get it ready.
I've been fighting monsters for several days, can't I enjoy myself a bit?
Soaking in the warm water, like a tea bag, he seeped shades of reddish-brown, tainting the large tub of water red within seconds. This was merely the blood and gore that had soaked through his clothing and stained his body, a testament to the intensity of the combat in the Beast Lair. Especially the latter half, where he basically chopped his way through everything—Pigmen, Heretics, anyone who stood in his way, one by one, became Spiritual Essence for him.
At this moment, lying in the warm water, Lance roughly sorted out the gains from this operation.
Aside from the Pigmen he had seen earlier, he also encountered more comprehensively evolved Pigmen. These 'Pigman Mobs,' authentic big fatties with fortified physiques and strength, were not simple foes by any means. There were also 'Pigman Concealers,' born from advanced technology fused with several biological features, unique body structures, and a stealth talent of unknown origin. Their attack methods were sinister and deadly. Practically born assassins, they posed a tremendous threat to anyone entering the Beast Lair.
Then there was the 'Large Flesh Devourer,' a Flesh Devourer that had evolved by devouring flesh. Although the name was a bit of a mouthful, this creature's evolutionary abilities indeed exceeded everyone's expectations.
Later, he even found the Pigmen's sacrificial site, the 'Slaughterground,' discovered the 'Pigman Priest' orchestrating the ritual Casting Spells, and understood some of the Pigmen's societal operational systems ('Pigman Sociology +1'). He destroyed the terrifying Sacrificial Stele, ruining the place where the Pigmen produced items for their evil rituals.
They also found a source of income among those corpses. Of course, more important was the 'Lucky Charm' circulated among tomb raiders.
Afterward, they even managed to kill the Heretics' Saintess and the Limping Walker. Though the process was exceedingly difficult, they had all somehow survived. They witnessed the battle style of the Seeker of Omens, Amanda, who would just pull things out with a CLATTER. And there was that mad Mystical Scholar, Alhazred, whose seemingly gaunt body concealed terrifying strength. With a raise of his hand, he obliterated the Limping Walker. Despite having been weakened by Amanda and left half-crippled by Lance, the Limping Walker had lived up to the name of 'Champion' with that final move.
As for Lance, acquiring the 'Meteorite' and the Map of the Ascension Sect's layout in the wilderness was his greatest gain. Compared to this, the Sacrificed Spiritual Essence was actually quite inconspicuous. It was like the beverages served at a banquet: although they could fill you up, they couldn't compare to the allure of the main course.
Who cares if there's no Butler to issue tasks or provide Gold Coins and Extraordinary Equipment? Is my inheritance withheld? Then I shall take it myself. Kill the old man's pigs for meat, slaughter the chickens, and use the chicken to bait the giant octopus. That's how we do things.
Lance was quite satisfied with this trip. The next step would be to use the Map provided by the Saintess to execute a major operation. The target for the next phase was clear: completely eradicate the Heretics in the wilderness. That would open up the route to the ruins of the old city. And the old family mansion was right on the outskirts of those ruins. It was almost time to end all of this.
A smile emerged on Lance's face as he was deep in thought. It grew more ferocious, even a bit frightening.
Great ancestor, I can't wait to meet you...
It took three washes to clean off all the blood and bits of flesh. This wasn't the first time for Lance, and he had grown accustomed to it. However, there was one situation he used to detest: the subtle, almost indelible scent of decay that clung to him, as if it had marinated into his very being. It was only after using the herbal cleanser specially prepared for him by Grendel that he managed to wash away the odor, replacing it with a faint, fresh plant fragrance.
Lance surveyed his body. When he had first arrived in Hamlet, he was just over 1.7 meters tall; now, after repeated Blessings and Strengthening, he had shot up to just over 1.9 meters. His previously frail body was now covered in muscles. These weren't the exaggerated, bulging kind, nor the smooth muscles developed specifically through exercise, but rather lithe muscles with rigid lines. With just a flex, they resembled twisted steel wires. Common swords would be fortunate to even leave a mark on him; terms like 'steel and iron bones' were apt descriptions for such a physique. Combining explosive power, agility, and stamina, Lance himself was like a perfect work of art.
Lance himself didn't really care about these things—who the hell has time to admire themselves?
After finishing his bath and dressing in fresh clothes, Lance realized some of his old attire needed to be discarded. Lance genuinely disliked the so-called noble attire of this era, especially the fashionable leather trousers that pinched his balls. And those traditional noble garments, which could be considered robes or something similar, appeared rather ornate from the outside, but the inside was hollow!
God damn it, they're hollow underneath!
In his previous life, Lance hadn't studied ancient clothing much, but he could understand that such designs were for convenience when nature called. One could simply lift the long robe when necessary, and the matter was resolved. If it took too long to untie, waiting was usually acceptable, but it would be problematic if one suddenly had an emergency.
You can't always control whether you can hold it in or not.
Either it's skintight pants, where the only difference between you and some street punk is a pair of loafers, or it's these open-crotch robes with the wind whistling through. What kind of screwed-up Nobility is this?
