Chapter 276: Replenishing Lost Aether

After the brief exchange of words between Caelestra and Veyrath, the silver-haired Merchant turned her attention back to Aelric, her eyes carrying the unmistakable expectancy of someone who had asked a question and had no intention of accepting anything less than an answer.

“So, Aelric, what is Nether?”

At that moment, the entire group turned towards the green-eyed youth, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of curiosity, anticipation, and impatience.

They scarcely noticed the pungent stench permeating the temple or the gore and scattered remains surrounding them beneath the ruin’s dilapidated ceiling.

It was as though someone had magically stripped away their awareness of everything except Aelric, leaving their collective attention fixed upon him with an intensity that might have made a lesser person uncomfortable.

Unfortunately for them, Aelric did not appear particularly eager to satisfy their curiosity.

He remained silent for several moments before finally releasing a sigh. There was something weary about the sound, an accumulation of frustration and contemplation that seemed to carry far more weight than the circumstances immediately surrounding them could explain.

When he eventually raised his head, his emerald eyes held an unusually distant expression; the kind that held vissutitudes, as though Caelestra’s seemingly simple question had stirred memories he would have preferred to leave undisturbed.

“What is Nether?” he repeated.

The words emerged slowly, almost pensively, as though he were testing the question before deciding how best to approach it.

“Well, Caelestra, what you’ve just asked is a particularly complicated question. Answering it properly would require delving into the kind of history that most people outside the Nether Lands know practically nothing about. To understand Nether, one must first understand the foundation and origin of the Nether Lands themselves. Otherwise, there are certain nuances and implications in my explanation that you simply wouldn’t be able to comprehend.”

The group exchanged brief glances.

What was Nether? In their ears, the question sounded straightforward enough to warrant a concise explanation.

They had expected Aelric to describe a form of energy, perhaps explain how it differed from Aether, and then warn them about whatever dangers accompanied its cultivation.

Instead, he had made it sound as though answering the question required unravelling the mysteries of an ancient civilization.

Judging by his tone, one might have assumed they had asked him to explain the creation of reality itself.

Whether Aelric was deliberately making the matter sound more mysterious than necessary or was genuinely struggling to find an appropriate explanation, none of them could tell.

Frankly, they cared little about the distinction. They simply wanted answers, not an invitation to spend the next several hours contemplating the philosophical foundations of existence.

For Veyrath, in particular, the matter had become rather urgent. He had nearly touched a Nether Core moments earlier, and he would have preferred to understand why doing so was dangerous before encountering another one.

Unfortunately, Aelric seemed to have other plans.

“Well, I would have explained what Nether is to you, but I can’t do so in these surroundings,” he said, glancing towards the ruined chamber. “How about we return to the cave first? Once you’ve all rested and recovered, we can discuss everything in detail.”

A long groan escaped Vaelorin. It sounded like the dying lament of a man whose last remaining hope had just been crushed beneath an inconveniently large stone.

“Are you telling me we’re not going to the Sanctuary today anymore?”

Disappointment coloured his voice, accompanied by a hint of exasperation that he made little effort to conceal.

For several days, he had looked forward to reaching the Sanctuary, where he hoped to find a safer environment and perhaps some answers concerning their future.

The prospect of finally leaving the Crimson Forest had become a small but precious source of motivation.

But now, after enduring an exhausting battle, he was being told that their departure would have to wait.

It was difficult not to feel as though the universe had developed a personal grudge against him.

Aelric turned towards the red-haired Pyromancer, apparently unmoved by his suffering.

“Well, we could have made the journey today, but look…” He raised a hand and pointed towards the sky.

Following his gesture, the others looked through the temple’s broken walls and upward into the vast crimson expanse above the forest.

The sky had already begun to darken, and heavy clouds were gathering overhead, their undersides deepening into a shade of red that seemed almost black against the fading light.

The distant treetops had become indistinct silhouettes, while the shadows beneath their twisted branches stretched farther across the forest floor.

“It is already getting late,” Aelric continued. “And trust me, you wouldn’t want to discover what kind of creatures prowl around here at this time of day.”

His casual delivery did little to soften the warning.

The group understood his reasoning. They had spent the afternoon fighting Ratchyrs, and none of them possessed enough energy to welcome another encounter with whatever inhabited the forest after dark.

Nevertheless, understanding the necessity of postponing their journey did not make the disappointment any easier to swallow.

Their enthusiasm gradually subsided, leaving the group in a subdued mood.

Even Sylveris, who had been eager to share her excitement about finally contributing meaningfully to a battle, found her expression falling.

The fourteen-year-old had spent much of the afternoon thrilled by the opportunity to fight alongside the others rather than remain protected at the edge of the battlefield.

She had hoped that reaching the Sanctuary would mark the beginning of something new, perhaps an opportunity to prove herself further.

Instead, she would have to wait.

She lowered her ivory fangs slightly, her silver eyes drifting towards the temple entrance. Although she made no complaint, the disappointment in her expression was evident enough.

Fortunately, Regaleon appeared unwilling to let the group’s spirits sink entirely.

“But Aelric, we can still collect the Nether Cores, can’t we?” the silver-haired Knight asked. “Just because we can’t use them ourselves doesn’t necessarily mean they’re worthless, does it?”

His question carried a practical purpose. They had expended considerable effort defeating the Ratchyrs, and abandoning the resources left behind would mean wasting something they had effectively paid for with blood, sweat, and Aether.

Usefulness and value were not necessarily the same thing. An object that served no immediate purpose could still prove valuable to someone else, and Regaleon had no intention of discarding potential resources merely because they did not understand how to use them.

Aelric shrugged before throwing a subtle jab. “Probably. Just don’t try eating them like a certain someone…”

Veyrath shot him an offended look, his gaze drifting towards Caelestra for a split second as though accusing her of what she had caused before shifting back to Aelric as he retorted defensively.

“I wasn’t going to eat them!”

However, Aelric simply shot him a strange look, the kind that made it seem as though he didn’t believe any word that came out of the failed Alchemist’s mouth.

Before Veyrath could devise a suitable retort to that expression, Regaleon had started directing the others to begin collecting the crystals.

Aureleah moved swiftly between the fallen creatures, her sharp eyes locating Nether Cores hidden beneath matted fur or lodged among broken bones.

Her movements remained precise despite her exhaustion, and she avoided the worst of the bloodied remains with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to working in unpleasant conditions.

Valmyr helped shift the larger corpses aside, occasionally grunting as he lifted bodies that would have required considerable effort from an ordinary person.

Sylveris followed behind him, carefully retrieving the smaller crystals while avoiding the scattered incisors whenever possible. Having nearly been overwhelmed by the creatures earlier, she had developed a healthy respect for their teeth.

Kaeloris, despite his fatigue, kept count of their growing collection, ensuring that nothing was overlooked. Even Veyrath eventually abandoned his apprehension and began gathering the crystals with surprising enthusiasm, much to Caelestra’s amusement.

For someone whose profession revolved around acquiring and evaluating valuable resources, the Merchant had expected to be the most enthusiastic collector. Instead, she found herself watching the failed Alchemist inspect every crystal with the determination of a miser who had just discovered an abandoned treasury.

Once they had thoroughly searched the ruined temple and secured everything worth taking, the group gathered around Caelestra. One by one, they deposited their collected Nether Cores into her Treasure Chest, allowing the Merchant to store the dangerous crystals safely within her Soul Essence.

With their spoils secured, Caelestra opened the chest again and began retrieving their remaining Aether Cores.

The sight immediately improved the group’s mood.

Their reserves had been substantially depleted during the battle, particularly Kaeloris, who had strained himself maintaining his Law Script, and Vaelorin, whose repeated use of Solar Lance alongside Eruption Pulse had consumed considerable energy.

The opportunity to replenish their Aether reserves was therefore a welcome relief, offering them a chance to recover before returning to the cave. For the moment, at least, they had something useful to show for their exhausting afternoon…