NewComer
patreon
Lord of Entertainment C306 Netherworld exploration
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 14:18:16 +0000 UTC(3rd Person POV)
The moon hung high in the dark sky—full, red, and solemn. Its scarlet light bled across the endless, twisted forest below. Wind howled through the warped trees, their crooked shapes swaying violently. Rustling grass, brittle leaves, and eerie screeches echoed from unknown directions, painting the atmosphere with dread.
Slithering across the rugged ground was a grotesque creature—its body stretched long like a centipede, but instead of insect legs, it had hundreds of human limbs writhing beneath it. Its head resembled an ant’s, its obsidian eyes reflecting the moonlight in a glassy glow. From its mandibles came a distorted clicking sound—half whisper, half screech.
Its aura, though invisible, radiated terror. Weaker beasts fled its presence, hiding in burrows and shadows.
Suddenly—without warning—it was crushed.
An unseen pressure slammed into it from above, reducing its form into pulp. Viscous black blood sprayed upward, staining the low-hanging clouds in the sky. The surrounding forest fell into silence—until distant howls broke out in terror.
The source of the attack descended from the heavens—a cloaked figure floating effortlessly in the air. His dark, tousled hair fluttered in the wind, and his golden eyes glowed like twin suns in the night.
Arthur.
He hovered over the creature’s ruined body, observing the dark fragments scattered across the blood-soaked soil. Among them were shards—dense, dark, and humming with raw energy.
He raised a hand, and three of the shards floated into his palm.
“Hm... these again.” His voice was quiet but focused. “Magic cores.”
They pulsed softly in his grasp—dense with an unfamiliar power.
“I’ve been collecting these,” Arthur muttered. “Still don’t know their exact use... but it’s not ordinary mana. It feels... compressed. Like natural gas packed into stone.” He turned one between his fingers. “Strange…”
Each core was roughly the size of a child's palm. A few, rarer ones, were larger—like the size of a grown man’s.
He tucked the shards into his system storage and turned to continue his journey.
It had been two weeks since Arthur entered the Nether Realm, and already, he understood one thing:
This place was anything but simple.
It wasn’t just dangerous—it was unreal. Creatures here weren’t just beasts. Many were unnatural, abominations of physical and spiritual fusion. Some were so monstrous they couldn’t be categorized at all.
“I’m glad I didn’t come here as a Demigod,” Arthur muttered. “If I had, I wouldn’t have lasted a day.”
The creature he crushed moments ago? That thing radiated a power equivalent to a Demigod-level entity—strong enough to level a small kingdom in a single attack. Horn Kingdom would’ve been flattened by one stomp from that thing’s cursed limb.
“The size of this realm...” Arthur muttered as he soared forward, eyes scanning the ever-shifting terrain. “With how fast I’ve been flying, I should’ve circled the mortal world a dozen times over by now.”
Yet he had only scratched the surface.
A wisp of mist drifted toward him—shimmering and alive. Arthur narrowed his eyes.
“Tch. That damn spirit again.”
The cloud reached for him, seeking to entrap him in an illusion—a dreamscape trap. A tsukuyomi-like technique.
With a flick of his finger, Arthur’s divine aura lashed out. The mist shrieked briefly before disintegrating into nothing.
“You think you can pull me into your fake little dream again?” Arthur scoffed. “Try harder.”
Without another glance, he flew on.
His destination was near—The Prison of the Old Deities.
Along the way, he encountered more creatures—both physical and spiritual. Most kept their distance. A few tried to get in his way.
Arthur sighed, brushing his fingers through his wind-tossed hair as he hovered in the murky air of the Nether Realm.
“If I could just use the damn bracelet…” he muttered. “The Bracelet of Lifeblood Veins should let me teleport anywhere with the World Traverser function... but here?”
He glanced down at the dormant band on his wrist. No glow. No response.
“Completely useless,” he said with a click of his tongue. “This realm’s blocking it off.”
A few days had passed since then. He had yet to find the Old Deities’ Prison, and in the meantime, he’d collected a staggering number of cores—3,770, according to his system storage.
Tired, Arthur perched atop a giant skeletal tree that pierced through the dark fog. When a monstrous bird attempted to ambush him, it was instantly vaporized by a single thought.
He sat down on the wide branch, arms resting on his knees, and murmured to himself, “I wonder how things are going back in the world... now that the Walkman’s out?”
He had only left a long-lasting shadow clone to replace himself temporarily—and while the clone could hold for months, the uncertainty was starting to bother him.
Another clone had been sent to the Draconic Realm, located in the distant oceans of the mortal world. Originally, Arthur planned to explore that realm himself—but out of confidence, he chose the Nether Realm instead.
“I really thought I could switch back quickly using World Traverser,” he grumbled. “Swap places with the clone in a flash.”
He exhaled slowly, resting his head against the bark behind him. “Not only do I have to rely on a clone to manage my studio... but the one in the Draconic Realm?” He frowned. “I’m starting to worry he might be too harsh with the dragons…”
---
At Hellfire Park, Chairman’s Office — Shadow Clone Arthur
Arthur #2 lounged at his desk, feet propped up and one hand lazily picking his nose. In the other, he held a game controller, eyes glued to the glowing screen.
He was playing Pacman, the iconic hit from the Hellfire Entertainment System.
On the couch nearby, Firfel and Vivienne watched in disbelief.
Vivienne folded her arms, her brow twitching. She nudged Firfel and said loudly—just enough for him to hear, “Is this seriously how your boyfriend treats guests? He’s completely ignoring us!”
Firfel sighed, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” she muttered, shaking her head. “He hasn’t replied to my Hellphone messages in days. And now that we’re right in front of him, he still won’t acknowledge us…”
Arthur, naturally, heard every word—but he couldn’t care less.
“I’m in the middle of a game. Don’t bother me,” he said, not even glancing their way.
Vivienne’s eye twitched. “You bastard! Did you forget your big movie promotion is this week—and here you are playing Pacman like it’s some life-or-death mission?!”
Firfel held Vivienne back gently, keeping her cool. “Forget it. If games are more important to him than real life, let him rot in it.”
She turned toward Arthur with a cold gaze. “I hope your high score keeps you warm tonight.”
With that, Firfel spun on her heel and stormed out, dragging a fuming Vivienne with her.
“Hmph! Not only did you fail to serve us that heavenly tea you always offer, but...” Vivienne huffed in frustration. “Not even a proper escort to the door? And you dare call yourself a gentleman?!”
Arthur watched them leave with a blank stare, then muttered under his breath, “Tch. Let the real one deal with that mess. I’m just a clone. All I want is to enjoy my downtime.”
---
Meanwhile, in the Draconic Realm…
The skies were clear, the sun blazing over a mountainous terrain riddled with ancient caves and winding peaks. Dragons soared majestically through the air—at least, most of them did.
One dragon, however, wasn’t flying so majestically.
Its wings were bruised. Scales cracked. Pride shattered.
Atop its back sat another Arthur.
Unlike the lazy one in the office, this version radiated dominance, his golden eyes surveying the skies with disinterest.
“Hmph. Dragons… overrated,” he scoffed. “I still don’t get what the original sees in this realm.”
The dragon beneath him flinched at his voice.
Arthur kicked its side lightly. “Keep flying. And don’t waste my time. Take me somewhere actually impressive.”
“Y-yes, sir!” the dragon stammered, wings struggling to keep pace. Other dragons nearby gave them a wide berth, too afraid to interfere.
Arthur crossed his arms.
“So far, this place’s biggest accomplishment is wasting my patience.”
Comments
Tyler Karp
Thank you for the chapter
Justin Uzumaki
Why are his clones assholes? They’re basically him, and he isn’t an asshole. He definitely wouldn’t have ignored Firfel’s texts, or not make time for her and Vivienne, so what the fuck?
