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“You brought it on yourself, .”

A single finger-thin strand of green mana seemed to bisect everything in Desmond’s field of vision. Smooth and light as a cloud, swift and withering as thunder, the mana blade did more than split the landscape.

In the next instant, the four adventurers who had been besieging Desmond collapsed, their bodies split in two from the waist. Without waiting for the blood to stop spilling like a fountain, Desmond leaned against one of the cave walls and collapsed to the ground.

It had only been a couple of hours since Desmond entered the mines, but the journey had been anything but uneventful. So far, Desmond hadn’t encountered any subterranean beasts; however, there was no lack of battles. With only one exception, each team of adventurers Desmond met took the initiative to attack.

Desmond was decisive and brutal, but he was not invincible or immortal; the battles began to erode his strength and endurance. In the end, after Desmond dealt with a small group of adventurers draining almost all of his power, another group of attackers joined the fray.

Exhausted and wounded, Desmond was thrown back against the ropes, barely surviving the edge of danger. Desmond had no chance to defend himself or fight back; these people brought him to the brink of death in just a few seconds.

The last group of adventurers wasn’t strong or anything like that. Still, they had excellent teamwork and seemed well-versed in rounding up solitary prey. Feeling the sweet whisper of death caressing his ear, Desmond awakened his bloodiest side and called upon the sword, , to slay his enemies.

Pouring every last drop of his mana into the sword, Desmond used one of his most potent sword skills. The result? The blade, , left a forty-meter long and three-meter deep cut in the rock wall behind Desmond’s enemies after it had cut them in half.

.....

Despite being victorious, Desmond was not in a good mood. His discomfort was not just due to the state of his body or his situation. What bothered Desmond was human frailty. A weak body had always been the weakness of Mana and Arcana users; Desmond knew it. As much as this weakness bothered him, he accepted it.

What Desmond couldn’t accept was that even Aura users could also be easily slaughtered. Taking the dead people in front of Desmond as an example, most of them were Aura users, but that didn’t stop them from being cut in half.

Desmond saw himself and his loved ones in the place of his enemies, and that frailty became a painful source of despair. That fragility had to go, immortality might be impossible, but Desmond could at least cling to survival.

“I need a bloodline...No, I need the best possible bloodline.”

Bloodlines, similar to arcane stigmata, were an auxiliary way of traversing the path of physical strengthening, substituting the need to cultivate Aura to a certain extent.

As in everything, there was a difference between the quality and power a bloodline could bestow. Taking Mei Fei Long’s bloodline as an example, it gave the girl a massive increase in three aspects, strength, stamina, and explosive power. That was without even fully activating her bloodline, where that power increased by another considerable margin.

In Mei Fei Long’s case, she possessed the bloodline of a silver dragon, a superior existence capable of laying waste to entire worlds. There was no need to doubt the quality and potential of her bloodline.

Unfortunately, such powerful bloodlines were rare and extremely difficult to find. Desmond’s only consolation was that being a human, there would be few compatibility issues if he found a powerful bloodline. That was basically the only advantage humans possessed, good adaptability, which allowed them to survive in the middle of the food chain in the universe.

Not being at the bottom of the food chain might be considered good enough for humans, but Desmond wasn’t happy with that. Desmond wanted to be on top; no, he needed to be on top. That was the only way to ensure the well-being of his loved ones.

“Goddess of fortune. I know you, and I have had our differences, but I really need you to take pity on me and let me find a powerful bloodline.”

Without feeling the slightest bit of shame, Desmond prayed insincerely to the goddess he used to blaspheme whenever something terrible happened to him. As always, Desmond didn’t get an answer, nor was he expecting one. He just wanted to blow off some steam; after all, months had passed, and Elaisa still hadn’t found an opportunity for him to get a bloodline.

Desmond didn’t push the girl either. He understood that this kind of lucky encounter couldn’t be forced; it wasn’t like the superior species went through life giving away their precious bloodlines. Giving your bloodline to someone else was no simple matter and required a certain degree of sacrifice from the donor. With that in mind, Desmond didn’t expect the issue to be resolved any time soon.

Pushing all unnecessary thoughts out of his head, Desmond finished treating himself and continued his tour of the mines. Maybe it was because he had already gone deep enough, or perhaps it was just luck, but Desmond stopped running into psycho adventurers.

The little break was welcomed by Desmond, but he didn’t dare let his guard down. Desmond knew that once human activities subsided deep in the mines, encounters with subterranean beasts would become more common.

It was just a tiny sound, an odd, barely perceptible click, that alerted Desmond. Desmond acted decisively, jumping back without a second thought. Desmond’s decision proved to be the correct one, but he was still one step too late.

Desmond felt his shoulder rip open, spilling blood in copious amounts. A nauseating feeling spread from his wound, telling Desmond that he had been poisoned. Fortunately, Desmond’s body was highly resistant to poisons due to his pact with Kyuru. This effect grew slightly more potent each time they experienced the fusion.

In the dim light of the magic lantern in Desmond’s hand, a long shadow could be seen receding at an alarming speed. Showing his mastery of the drawing technique, Desmond swung his sword, . Like a little mouse that can’t escape from the clutches of a falcon, the shadow was caught by the blade’s edge, and blood spilled out.

Keeping his guard up, Desmond approached the spot where he saw the shadow, only to find what looked like a severed scorpion tail. Desmond didn’t dare sheath his sword anymore. He thanked heaven that, having used it quite a bit in the last couple of hours, Desmond had learned to restrain most of the sword’s power so he could wield it more comfortably.

Although Desmond didn’t get to see the subterranean beast that attacked him, he had a vague idea of what it was. According to what Desmond heard from other people at the inn, the only scorpion-tailed subterranean beast that existed here was the impaler beetle.

As its name suggests, the impaler beetle loves to stab its prey with its long, swift scorpion-like tail. The stinger in the beetle’s tail possessed a strong neurotoxin that paralyzes its prey. Once its prey is paralyzed, the beetle will impale it and bring it into its jaws to devour it.

The impaler beetle was one of everyone in this city’s most hated subterranean beasts, and for a good reason. In the first instance, the beetle loved to hide underground, waiting to ambush its victims, which made them extremely difficult to detect.

If not for the slight snap of the beetle’s tail as it emerged from the earth, Desmond might have suffered a more significant loss. Added to the poison in the beetle’s tail, were it not for Desmond’s high resistance to poisons and toxins, he might already be at the mercy of such a beast.

But, if there was one thing that the people in this city really hated about the impaler beetle, that would be its complete lack of any kind of value. Not a single part of these beetles was valuable. Their exoskeleton was woefully fragile, and the venom in their stingers was too volatile, making harvesting almost impossible.

Desmond had learned all of this information just from a few casual conversations, which was enough to make it clear how much the people of this town hated this creature.

Desmond was a little upset right now. This was his first confrontation with a subterranean beast, but he was already at a clear disadvantage. His only consolation came from knowing that these beetles used to make everyone miserable and not just himself.

Ironically, his worries and precautions were unnecessary, at least for this particular encounter. Who knew what the beetle was thinking? It actually tried to sneak right under Desmond’s nose to impale him in one move.

The result was that the beetle was impaled by a golden spear after Desmond stomped hard on the beetle. What Desmond didn’t know was that the outcome of his brief confrontation wasn’t entirely the beetle’s fault. The beast had no way of knowing that Desmond was not affected by his poison.

Seeing that Desmond did not move from his spot, the beetle thought that Desmond had been paralyzed by his potent toxin. Then, the beetle advanced arrogantly to claim the prey. The beetle didn’t expect his prey wasn’t defenseless at all. With his low level of combat, the beetle died without being able to mount any resistance.