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Chapter 801
🕑 Added 2025-09-18 19:32:38 +0000 UTCChapter 801
“Yes!” Killua nodded.
“Before, when I scolded you, it was because you always overestimated your opponents and underestimated yourself. You clearly had good ability, yet you could never bring it out. But this time, it’s different. That one—Menthuthuyoupi, Royal Guard of the Chimera Ants—his power is far greater than you imagine. Even Hisoka or Illumi would not be his match. For you to have managed this much already is remarkable.
Do not belittle yourself, but neither should you fall into self-doubt.”
"Now do.... Hmm unfortunately, we don't seem to have enough time."
Killua blinked, confused by Ron’s sudden change in tone, unsure what he meant.
Boom!
A massive explosion echoed. Youpi’s face twisted in shock as he sensed something, panic overtaking him. His eyes fixed on the source of the blast, more desperate than ever.
“No!”
He sprinted toward the explosion.
“Thunderbolt!”
Killua’s body blurred, lightning lancing down onto Youpi. But this time the effect was much weaker. Youpi only faltered briefly before resuming his charge toward the blast.
As he ran, two vast wings sprouted from his back. With a furious beat, he lifted into the sky.
“Ron-nii, what do we do now?” Killua asked.
Knuckle and the Chameleon Ant dropped their concealment, revealing themselves.
“There’s nothing more to be done,” Ron answered. “The battle is already over.”
From that blast alone, Ron knew what had happened. Netero was not the King’s equal. The Chairman, long past his prime, was too diminished compared to his peak. The King, however, was the culmination of the Chimera Ant experiments—beyond even the Royal Guards.
Not even the Zero Hand of Netero’s 100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva had been enough to kill him. That alone revealed the King’s life force had stepped into another realm of existence, a level where even on the Dark Continent he would not be weak. For ordinary Chimera Ants, yes, they would be bottom-dwellers there. But this was no ordinary Ant. Even the Queen herself had been a product of refinement. The offspring that followed were greater still.
“I’ll be back shortly.”
Ron’s figure rose into the sky. A card gleamed between his fingers.
“Flight!”
It was a new card Ron had created. It granted the user the power of flight. Its strength was limited, too unstable for combat, but for now it was perfect.
From above, Youpi came into Ron’s sight.
Below stretched a vast scar in the earth. Craters pocked the land, mountainsides collapsed, boulders scattered in heaps. The battlefield was a ruin, as though left behind by a war. Which it had been—Netero against the King was nothing less than a war.
Netero had detonated more than one Poor Man’s Rose. One was embedded in his own heart. Others had been planted throughout the battlefield beforehand. From the moment the King followed Netero there, survival had never been an option.
Ron saw no body. Likely Netero had been reduced to ash in the blasts. The King’s body, far hardier, had been charred black. Compared to that, Netero’s flesh would have been obliterated outright, consumed at the very core of the explosion.
Youpi tore into the ruins at the center of the blasts, digging frantically, both hands gouging the scorched ground to unearth the King. Poison from the Rose seeped into his body, but he paid it no mind.
Ron moved his hand. A door appeared, and Wither stepped through.
“Below, that was where Chairman Netero and the King fought. The battle is over now.”
“The King?” Wither’s eyes darted downward, anxious.
“Youpi is searching. The result will come soon enough. But even if he finds him, there is no chance of survival. The Poor Man’s Rose carries a venom with no cure.”
Wither’s pupils constricted.
“So this was the plan from the start?”
“Exactly.”
A trace of feeling passed through Ron’s chest. The Chimera Ants represented the dawn of a new era—something Ron had not understood until hearing Netero’s words.
But it was true. A new age was upon them.
The efficiency of exploration into the Dark Continent would soar. The impact on the Human World would be immeasurable. Whether for good or ill, it would bring transformation on a massive scale.
With Netero’s death, the old age had truly ended.
“My King!”
At last, Youpi uncovered the body. From the rubble he dragged out a blackened husk. Limbs gone, body scorched, its shape barely recognizable. A thread of aura still flickered faintly. Only Youpi’s sharp senses had allowed the discovery.
“My King!”
Tears rolled down Youpi’s face. Then, with resolve hardening in his eyes, he pressed a finger to the corpse. Cells and life force melted away, converted into sustenance and poured into the King’s mouth.
Instinctively, the King absorbed it.
“It works!”
Youpi’s eyes lit with hope. He sacrificed himself faster, determined to give every last fragment of life to restore his King.
Wither stared in silence at the sight.
“Why?”
She lifted her head, looking at Ron.
“Why must it be like this? Why do you humans do such things? If we were only made to be destroyed, why create us at all? Why not kill us from the very beginning?”
Wither’s eyes burned red.
Ron was silent for a long time. He had already told Neferpitou about the Ant experiments, about why they had been allowed to slaughter so many, about the planned invasion of East Gorteau, about why the King was deliberately left alive. But those explanations felt insufficient now—not shallow, but lacking the depth this question demanded.
Ron looked toward the King’s broken body, and a line came to mind.
“Because… this is humanity’s malice.”
