Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 491: The Gladiator, Talulah
In the blink of an eye, the black threads that had seemed to blanket the sky were completely absorbed into Steven's body. Deprived of the black threads' control, the infected collapsed limply onto the ice. Across the vast frozen plain, the only one still standing was Steven—holding Talulah in his arms.
"Are you alright?"
Talulah had been forcing herself to stay conscious, resisting the tide of resentment and malice so it wouldn't overwhelm her and drag her into unconsciousness. Now, supported by Steven, she struggled to her feet and looked at him with unmistakable worry.
She had seen everything that just happened.
Which was precisely why she understood how much more dangerous the situation Steven had faced was compared to her own. She hadn't even been able to maintain her sense of self amid that ocean of hatred, so what Steven had just endured was something she didn't dare imagine.
This wasn't just the red threads connecting to him anymore. It was as if the accumulated resentment of the entire land had poured straight into his mind. Looking at him now, it almost felt as though something might overflow from his eyes, ears, or mouth at any moment.
"How should I put it… I feel fine. It's just a bit noisy."
Steven, who had calmly accepted everything, pulled a carton of milk out of his inventory and downed it in one go. Only then did he smile at Talulah as if nothing had happened, clearly trying to reassure her.
Once those resentments entered his consciousness, they were automatically isolated. Still, a few fragments and malicious emotions inevitably slipped through, flickering across his mind.
Unfortunately for them, Steven wasn't an idealist like Talulah.
Even after seeing all of that, he only found it annoying.
As for any deeper feelings?
If you really had to ask him, his answer would be simple: what does it have to do with me?
Those malice-laden emotions weren't limited to the infected—there was also the accumulated hatred of the Ursus land itself, built up over hundreds, even thousands of years. And yet, that was all the effect it had on Steven.
After countless battles and endless solitude, Steven had long since maxed out his willpower. His mental state had already surpassed that of a normal human being.
If one wanted a simpler explanation—
He's insane.
And once someone's a lunatic, what exactly could make them go even crazier?
Clearly, even the meticulously plotting Black Snake had never anticipated this. It couldn't fathom how bizarre Steven's consciousness truly was. Even after deliberately forcing a portion of the land's accumulated resentment into him, Steven remained completely unmoved.
Was this guy some kind of cold, heartless machine? Or was his mental strength really enough to stand against the will of the land itself?
There was only one thing Black Snake could be certain of now—
Steven was far more troublesome than it had ever imagined.
At this very moment, its plans had essentially lost all chance of succeeding.
What pushed Black Snake even closer to despair was the realization that Steven's mind was far more open than expected. Just like Steven himself had said, maybe all it needed was to say hello, and it wouldn't have had to scheme at all—he might have let it in willingly.
The problem was…
Getting in was easy.
Getting out?
That was a completely different story.
Yes, the Black Snake had already realized something was wrong the moment it noticed that Steven wasn't resisting at all. But by then, Steven had already begun actively absorbing the black threads. Like a widow who'd been starved for decades, he pulled in the vast majority of Black Snake's consciousness without hesitation.
Now, Black Snake felt more complete than it ever had before.
And that was exactly the problem.
That completeness came at the cost of losing contact with most of its external "scales"—its presence in the outside world had been almost entirely severed.
"Do you even understand what this means?"
Kashchey spoke, now existing within Steven's consciousness in the form of a small black serpent. "At any moment, I could seize control of your mind. Are you really not worried at all?"
The more it observed him, the harder Steven was to comprehend.
Kashchey was constantly attempting to erode his consciousness, but Steven's mind felt as though it had been forged from solid steel—there wasn't a single crack to exploit. It couldn't influence his thoughts. It couldn't share his vision. It couldn't even perceive what was happening outside.
At this point, calling it an invasion felt inaccurate.
It was more like Steven had casually used his own consciousness as a prison, locking him inside without ceremony.
Wasn't he afraid of nurturing a future disaster? Or did he truly believe himself so flawless that no weakness could ever be found?
"Of course I know," Steven replied calmly from within his own mind. "But instead of letting you run around outside causing trouble, it's better to jail you inside me Jinchuriki style. We can chat when we're bored, sounds nice, right? Then once I've gathered enough resources, I'll finish you off in one go. Might even make a profit. Saves trouble, too."
The Black Snake's so-called threats didn't faze him in the slightest. If resentment and hatred were all it had, then breaking through Steven's defenses was nothing more than a pipe dream.
What did any of this have to do with him, anyway?
Who the people of this land hated. Who they loved.
None of that mattered.
On some level, Steven still retained the mindset of a player. He didn't particularly identify with these emotions—or rather, he only acknowledged what he wanted to see. That, perhaps, was one of the reasons the Black Snake had no way of dealing with him.
Steven simply stopped paying attention to the thing in his head—something that even milk apparently couldn't fully flush out. Honestly, he didn't mind keeping it around, treating it like some kind of pseudo-Kurama.
When the time came, he could always kill it off for some WAP.
That was far more reliable than letting it escape and cook up yet another conspiracy.
"You're sure… you're still you?"
Talulah looked at the boy in front of her, still unable to believe it. "All that resentment and malice poured into you—and your verdict is just that it was 'a bit noisy'?"
She had already been worrying about how she would deal with Steven if he ended up like Brull—his mind twisted and altered beyond recognition.
But the Steven before her now was… too fine.
Was it really possible for someone to go through that and show absolutely no reaction at all?
"What did you expect?" Steven shrugged helplessly, clearly in the mood to joke.
"Me shouting something like 'Blood for the Blood God!' and then drawing my sword and running off yelling 'kill kill kill kill kill' or something?"
Of course, Steven understood that all of this came from Talulah's concern for him. But in the end, the state of mind of those who are sane and insane were fundamentally different. Those things might be able to affect Talulah, but they truly had no effect on him at all.
"…Good. That's a relief."
Talulah held her boyfriend's gaze for a long time. Only after she was certain that he was still the same boy—someone she would never be able to fully understand, yet somehow liked more and more the longer she looked—did she finally let out a breath.
Then, as if her body could no longer support itself, she went limp and collapsed into Steven's arms.
An overwhelming sense of exhaustion surged up from deep within her. Although the confusion in her heart had been dispelled, the mental fatigue left behind was not something that could be so easily erased.
Only when she was by her boyfriend's side could she completely drop all the masks she wore and entrust her entire self to this boy who made her feel so utterly at ease.
Steven lifted her slightly frail body without hesitation and, switching to a bridal carry, held her securely in his arms. Lowering his head, he looked at her face, now heavy with drowsiness.
"You've already done really well. No, you're doing better than I expected," he said softly.
"Now then, you should already have the answer to the question I asked you before, right?"
There was gentleness and indulgent affection in Steven's eyes as he murmured the question by her ear.
"Does an answer even matter at a time like this?" Talulah replied quietly.
"If I had to put it into words, I still can't. But at least now I know what I should do… and what it is that I truly need."
The uncertainty that had once clouded her expression was gone. In its place was an easy composure—and a resolve that could no longer be shaken.
"Then I'll be looking forward to it," Steven said with a faint smile.
"For now, though, what are you planning to do with these infected?"
Still holding Talulah, he glanced toward the infected who lay unconscious nearby and casually tossed her a problem that would have left her agonizing for a long time in the past.
The girl nestled in his arms only pressed herself a little closer against his chest, showing not the slightest sign of distress. She didn't even bother opening her eyes to look at the infected.
"Let them stay here and fend for themselves," she said calmly.
"This was their own choice. Why would someone like me need to interfere or decide things for them?"
There was no guilt or hesitation in her voice. Talulah no longer altered her stance simply because they were infected.
"You're not worried they'll continue doing evil?" Steven asked, a hint of amusement curling at his lips. "Or that they'll betray you again?"
"Then just don't give them the chance to betray me," she replied simply.
"If I can't change what they choose to do," Talulah continued, "then I'll just focus on doing what I want to do. As long as I do it well enough, why should I care what others are doing?"
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
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