Chapter 100: The Remarkable Bat, the Special Bat

“So… Baba is a descendant of the Demon King’s pet?” Ion asked.

“Yes. It exudes an aura that intimidates even me. That’s proof,” Bran replied, voice low for effect.

Kneeling with a swollen face, bound by vines, his words lacked credibility.

“You make it sound like intimidating you is a big deal,” Ion said.

“Of course it is! I’m the Duke! I rose to this position purely by strength!” Bran snapped.

Ion tilted his head. “Duke implies the demon hierarchy, right? So the strongest hybrid’s ability is… this level?”

“You… your tone is highly insolent!” Bran growled.

“Hybrids must be much weaker than demons, diluted by human blood,” Ion remarked.

“You little—!” Bran lurched, but the vines binding him didn’t budge.

“Interesting. Try blocking this,” Ion had said moments earlier. Vines had erupted, attacking Bran. He scoffed, slicing them with sharp winds, but new vines sprouted from the cuts, endlessly regenerating. Now, immobilized, Bran—undefeated except by his mother—felt his pride deeply wounded.

“We’re strong! We could overpower dragons, but somehow, my full strength didn’t work against you. It must be that bat’s fault,” Bran insisted.

“Overpower dragons?” Ion asked, stroking his chin.

Whether Bran’s pride was hurt or not, Ion continued, “Well, demons and dragons are evenly matched, so hybrids with demon blood wouldn’t be completely outclassed…”

“Evenly matched? Laughable. Even as a newborn, I’d have shattered a dragon’s bones with one kick,” Bran boasted.

“You call yourselves ‘hybrids’ instead of ‘Mines’?” Ion asked.

“Ugh! We didn’t know Mines claimed that name. Now that we do, we’re working on a new one. We’re collecting suggestions!” Bran spat, hissing like an angry cat.

“I see,” Ion said, thinking Idea Mine would be simple.

“But dragons, field beasts, and ancient beasts never felt intimidated by Baba. You’re the only one claiming that,” Ion pointed out.

“Don’t call me ‘you.’ I’m Bran. And the Demon King’s pet…” Bran tried raising his arm, but the vines tightened, warning him. “Damn it. Human, the fight’s over. Release the vines.”

Ion nodded, and the vines loosened, one brushing his cheek before vanishing. Bran massaged his sore shoulder and extended his right arm toward Baba, almost aggressively, then rolled up his sleeve.

“This is…!” Ion exclaimed.

Bran’s tanned, muscular forearm pulsed with veins forming a geometric pattern. Ion grabbed Baba, spreading its wings—the pattern matched the magic circle on Baba’s membranes. Bran studied it with interest.

“First time seeing it in person,” Bran said.

“What’s this pattern?” Ion asked.

“Demons are warlike. Even after defeat establishes hierarchy, they keep challenging. Imagine flies buzzing endlessly—annoying, right? The Demon King got fed up and etched dominance into demon blood,” Bran explained. It instilled awe, crushing any thought of defiance, making demons bow in fear—even to the Demon King’s pet.

“Even the pet…?” Ion asked.

“Not just any pet, a cherished familiar. Unless those wings are torn off, no demon would dare harm it. That’s why I couldn’t fight you properly,” Bran said. The stronger the demon blood, the greater the pattern’s effect.

Ion realized: I can use Baba as a weapon against demons. Flash Baba’s eyes, and opponents freeze—a cheat code.

“I’m a special bat!” Baba’s eyes sparkled in Ion’s hand.

“Knew it! Not a chimera, not a familiar. I’m the Demon King’s pet! Super special! Awesome bat!” Baba chirped.

“Not you, your ancestor,” Ion corrected.

“Yeah! I’m the Demon King’s pet’s descendant! Awesome bat! Cool bat! Praise me, Dam Ion!” Baba insisted.

“Quiet down,” Ion said.

“I’m awesome! Wanna dance! Pippi said dancing feels good! I dance!” Baba declared.

Ion released the wriggling Baba, who landed not on Sanse’s pot but on Bran’s arm, dancing on the vivid pattern.

“…” Bran’s face twisted, torn between instinctive fear and haughty pride.

“Hey, bat,” Bran said.

“Name’s Baba. Call me Baba-nim. That’s an order!” Baba retorted.

“…Baba-nim, where’s the beast that birthed you?” Bran asked.

“I’m dancing. Busy. Talk to Dam Ion,” Baba replied.

Bran ground his teeth but kept his arm steady for Baba’s dance. “Human, where’d you find Baba-nim?”

“In a field,” Ion said. “By the way, even after the dance, Baba won’t know about its family. It has no memories.”

“A field? Not Idea, but a field?” Bran asked.

“Yes.”

Bran’s expression grew grave. “Fields are in the Demon Realm. Why’s the Demon King’s pet’s descendant there? The Demon King’s sealed in Idea…”

“That’s just hybrid speculation. No one knows where the Demon King’s sealed,” Ion said.

“Is Baba-nim truly clueless?” Bran asked.

“Nothing,” Ion confirmed.

“Tell me everything you know about it,” Bran demanded.

Ion complied: Baba’s initial cries, its innate language skills, love for mana flow, and lack of special abilities so far.

“One thing’s certain: Baba’s not a beast. I thought it was a chimera…” Ion said.

“Chimera? Giant experiments?” Bran asked.

“Yes. Maybe giants took the Demon King’s pet for crossbreeding experiments,” Ion suggested.

“Could be. Those vulgar giants!” Bran’s red eyes flashed with disgust. “During the Inma War, they were barely better than beasts. While the Demon King was sealed, they grew and invaded Idea. So irritating!”

“We’re in the Ingiant War now. If you hate giants, join the humans,” Ion proposed.

“Hmph, humans don’t want our help. Besides, they’re already winning, with that strong swordmaster, Sara Harunda,” Bran said, sitting with his arm still extended, showing no fear or wariness of Ion despite the defeat.

“Hybrids could reach out first, as Idea residents wanting to protect it. Joining the war might improve relations,” Ion said.

“Why should we?” Bran scoffed.

“Have you awakened aura? Are there many awakeners among hybrids?” Ion asked.

Bran bristled. “What’s aura awakening? We’re strong without it.”

Ion nodded, unsurprised. Hybrids hid, likely passive during Idea’s mana oversaturation crisis. Even now, hating giants, they didn’t join the war to protect Idea.

“Anyway, come to our hideout,” Bran said.

“Is there a way to recover Baba’s memories?” Ion asked.

“Not yet. We’ll research. It’s a clue to the Demon King’s seal, so we can’t let it go,” Bran replied.

“That’s inconvenient. I have somewhere to go,” Ion said.

“Then give me the bat. We only need it,” Bran insisted.

Baba stopped dancing, flying to Sanse’s pot. Bran lowered his arm. “Dam Ion! You’d abandon me? No way! We’re friends! Family! Sanse’s sad too! Abandonment’s bad!” Baba cried.

Ion pretended to stroke Baba, pressing its mouth shut. “Should’ve said this a week ago. I’d have dropped everything to follow you.”

“Oh? What’s different now?” Bran asked.

“My purpose has changed,” Ion said.

Teacher’s wish shifted from seeing the novel’s end to escaping it, contacting the Sadness Apostle to break free from Pleasure. This clashed with Ion’s principle of accepting reality, causing inner conflict. The only reason to contact Sadness is because only an Apostle can check another. If there’s another entity to counter Pleasure…

A sharp pain interrupted—a small bite mark on his finger, no blood. Baba stomped desperately. “Dam Ion, abandoning me makes you bad! You’re good! Don’t ditch me! We’re family, friends. I love you!”

“I’m not abandoning you. Quiet, I’m thinking,” Ion said.

“What’s there to think? Humans scheming is pointless. Hand over the bat,” Bran said, standing.

Vines shot up beside Ion, hissing threateningly. Bran sat back down.

Ion resumed his thought: a new way to check the Apostle—the Demon King. In the novel, the Demon King rivaled God. Bran said the same. Pleasure’s plays, spanning worlds, were meticulously crafted for God. This world was real, the Demon King a historical figure with near-divine power, as the world’s logic dictated. Creations often surpass creators—animals, plants, humans. So…

What if we revive the Demon King to check the Apostle?