Chapter 462
Episode 131: Those with Good Instincts, Those Without (6)

It all happened in the blink of an eye—too fast to even grab onto.

“Murakan, let’s give chase!”

Another rapid descent began. Murakan folded his wings tightly and swooped down, emitting an irritated growl.

[Damn it, why is it so fast?]

He muttered, eyes fixed on the cradle of mist enveloping the Prochi siblings.

The cradle was moving far faster than Murakan’s steep dive… and its path was so erratic, so bizarre, it could only be described as chaotic.

What had been a single cradle split into two, each holding one sibling separately, then merged back into one, spinning round and round repeatedly.

The mist blurred their vision, making the cradle’s movements even more maddeningly unpredictable.

[Oh my, my little darlings. You must have missed me so much to come looking like this, huh?]

Then, a woman’s voice echoed—not from the massive Bubarr’s gaping maw outside, but from within the mist itself.

Now, Jin and Murakan were certain the voice belonged to Amela.

And they also believed she wouldn’t kill Rata and Faye on the spot.

—If not affection?

—It’s hard to put into words. It’s more like she sees us as toys or playthings. Like when someone says they’re bored but still swings a knife around.

—Embarrassingly, I once got slashed across the forehead in such a surprise attack.

Just like the conversation they’d had upon entering the archipelago, and like Amela’s tone when she called them “my babies.”

To Amela, the Prochi siblings were adorable toys—fragile, but not so fragile as to break easily.

[Grow up well, my little ones.]

She was even singing a lullaby.

The wild cradle, the mist, and Amela’s lullaby echoed and resonated, making it feel as if they’d stepped right into someone’s mischievous dream.

Whoosh!

Murakan slowed down. To Jin and Murakan’s eyes, the cradle had vanished.

[Amela’s quite the headache, huh? Lately, everyone we meet seems to be like this. Zephyrin, that damn guy too.]

Instead of the cradle, a denser, darker mass of mist appeared. The cradle had slipped inside and disappeared.

[What now, kid?]

Should they chase beyond that darkness or look for another way? There was no need to hesitate.

“The mist is a curse. We’re immune anyway. Judging by the giant Bubarr exhaling its breath, it seems to have physical destructive power, but not beyond what we can handle. We’ll follow it. But—”

[But?]

“Until we can communicate directly with Amela, if there’s an attack, we’ll just defend or dodge. No counterattacks.”

[What kind of nonsense is that?]

“Remember what Amela said the moment we arrived at the central island?”

—[You’ve been such a nuisance to me.]

Though spoken through the giant Bubarr’s mouth, it was definitely Amela’s voice.

[Why’s that?]

“When the Four Great Powers arrived here before us, we don’t know exactly what happened between them and Amela. But she said they were such a nuisance she wouldn’t mind killing them all.”

And it wasn’t just talk.

While Runkandel seemed to have avoided casualties, Ziphl, Kinzello, and Biment had already suffered irreparable losses.

The Four Great Powers had come here to recruit Amela.

But instead of recruitment, they found themselves in a life-or-death struggle with her.

If a normal person had called someone a nuisance like that, you might suspect some hidden motive. But Amela was someone steeped in chaos.

She could easily have sworn off the Four Great Powers over something so trivial. Compared to Yona, that was believable.

“All the outsiders are already at odds with her. We don’t need to provoke Amela and become a nuisance ourselves.”

Jin explained this, and Murakan sighed.

[Ha! So now I, Murakan, have to just take the beating? How miserable and pitiful.]

“And I never heard this from Lord Valkas or Lord Rata.”

This “this” referred to Amela’s fighting style.

The three great mercenaries, with Valkas recognized as the world’s best mercenary by pure individual skill.

Valkas and Rata had faced Amela several times on the battlefield. Valkas even said she fought better than the entire Black King’s faction.

But nowhere in their accounts was there mention of Amela using curses or this strange mist.

“They only said her weapon skills and use of war equipment were unmatched, and her strategy and tactics were insanely brilliant. Even moving alone, she planted countless traps and devices all over the battlefield.”

[Hmm, that makes sense. So Amela was hiding her abilities?]

“If she hid her powers that well and still crushed the Black King’s faction alone, that would mean she’s close to Changseong’s level. I don’t think that’s the case. I suspect something changed in Amela for some reason.”

[Change?]

“Maybe the chaos of Bubarr Gaston and Amela’s own chaos met and amplified each other. And it’s working more in Amela’s favor than Bubarr’s.”

It was a gut feeling, but not without some basis.

The giant Bubarr outside was almost certainly under Amela’s control. She wouldn’t have shaped Bubarr from mist without reason.

The mist of Bubarr, in other words, was the power of chaos he wielded, so she had to use his form.

Jin soon arrived at this theory.

[Hmm, it sounds like a stretch, but it also seems plausible.]

“Amela’s particular interest and affection toward the Prochi siblings is probably because of chaos.”

[Those snake-eyed guys are different from your sister or Amela, right?]

“They are. But their father is Smarion Prochi—a man consumed by chaos and turned into a monster. Maybe some of his chaos lingers in the Prochi siblings, and Amela feels some affinity toward that.”

[Then what about Bubarr? Why does he show favor to the Prochi siblings but treat Bubarr like that?]

“I don’t know. Everything I’ve said so far is just speculation. But honestly… Bubarr seems to inspire disgust in everyone. Maybe there’s no deeper reason for people hating him.”

[Ugh, my head hurts. Whatever it is, we’ll only know if we meet her directly. Let’s go—for now, no counterattacks.]

Kraaa, crack! Kugu-kung…!

The distant explosions outside grew louder and more intense. The battle between the great powers and Amela was escalating.

Focusing briefly, they even heard the shouts of commanders.

“Deploy defense inspections based on the execution knights…! I’ll clear the way!”

“The squad leader’s down! Fall back! Mist is converging!”

“Follow the top warriors and royal guards! Kill any enemy showing their backs!”

“Don’t lose sight of the mage tower’s flame! Step outside the fire and you’ll be consumed by the mist!”

Though the distance was considerable, their voices came through clearly—as if Amela was momentarily listening to their reactions.

[Damn it, I should just kill everyone except my precious little ones. That’d be best, right, my darlings?]

Amela spoke with absolute confidence.

Even while facing all Four Great Powers, she wasn’t losing—in fact, she was certain of victory.

“Just from hearing the voices outside, it seems Amela’s side is dominating.”

That gave Jin even more certainty: for some reason, Amela was far stronger than usual.

Though none of the factions had sent their absolute top-tier fighters, only a handful of people in the world could overwhelm such figures alone.

Even considering the Gaipa Archipelago was her home turf, based on Valkas and Rata’s accounts, this was impossible.

Murakan’s black wings silently sliced through the mist.

As they entered the mass of mist where the cradle had vanished, the haze thickened into complete darkness. Even flames in their palms couldn’t pierce it.

Opening his third eye and sharpening his senses, Jin pressed forward.

From within came faint singing, humming, and soft, pleasant whispers—like a guide.

[Lululu, you’re the big brother, you’re the little brother, and I’m the Demon King!]

It sounded like a child lost in doll play, talking to themselves. It gave Jin chills, but also strangely reminded him of Yona, stirring a pang of sympathy.

Amela’s humming grew closer, and with it, the darkness of the mist slowly lifted.

Far ahead, a glowing space appeared. Jin and Murakan instinctively knew this was the core of the mist covering the entire island.

And there, sitting in the center, was Amela.

She wore a mercenary’s camouflage suit, but it was woven from grass and branches on a scale far larger than normal.

It looked less like clothing and more like she was buried inside a giant, round bush, hiding her entire body.

Two small hands peeked out from the camouflage, idly fiddling with a tiny wooden doll.

There were three wooden dolls in total, and Jin immediately recognized what each one represented.

The Prochi siblings and Bubar.

The real people corresponding to each doll appeared before Amela, moving in sync with the dolls’ movements.

“But… Bubar looks like a spirit—there’s no solid form at all.”

While the Prochi siblings appeared in their true forms, Bubar took on a glowing, ghostly shape.

Bubar’s doll was punching repeatedly, standing apart from the Prochi siblings’ dolls (which seemed to reflect the actions of the giant Bubar outside), while the Prochi siblings’ dolls were calmly drinking tea or chatting.

Murakan transformed into human form and stepped onto the ground alongside Jin. At that moment, Amela flinched and quickly turned her head away.

She had no idea that Murakan and Jin had made it this far.

“…Huh? What the hell? Who are you? You came all the way here, and you’re still alive?”

Amela’s eyes reddened as she spoke, tilting her head in confusion, clearly unable to comprehend the situation.