主上,我們發現到他的座標了!

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九** (Chapter 9)
eng: We've located his coordinates, Lord!

~

Meanwhile, in the Nether Kingdom...

"Damn it." A frustrated groan from the Lord alarmed his guards. The Lord's fist was held firm, an angry expression across his boney cheeks.

"My Lord," a guard says, bowing courteously as he spoke, "There was no evidence that your son committed suicide. Our findings show that-!"

"He is not my son." The Lord's voice booms through the large throne room, chilling his guards to the bone. "That boy is merely a replacement. After my own son was killed by those savages, I needed a successor." His eyes darken, "But it seems that my successor isn't worthy of the throne. At least... Not yet." The guards nod in understanding, knowing what had to be done.

"Locate him," Lord says, "Do not fail me again."

~

The Nether Queen laid in her luxurious hammock, her finger tracing her elegant necklace as she laid there deep in thought.

"Pitiful," she whispers, "How could someone so lucky like himself give up such an honor?"

She scoffs, smacking her lips in disapproval. "That boy... Once he is found, I will make sure he never leaves this place." She loosens her tightened fist, sighing as she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"My Queen," one of her advisors say, beckoning her, "We've got a lead on where your son may be."

"Is that so?" She asks, intrigued. She motions for him to go on, taking a delicate sip of her champagne.

"There is plenty of evidence that points towards him committing suicide, though some don't believe this to be so— including myself. Me and a few others believe he managed to escape through a Nether portal."

She swirls her drink in her hands, seemingly deep in thought. "If that is so, I want a search party to look for him. If he is truly alive, he will not be able to hide for long."

"But the Lord... He refused to believe this theory. He says it is preposterous."

"You do not take orders from him," she says sternly, clacking her heels on the beautifully tiled floor, "You are my advisor. Take a search party and locate him immediately. Do not fail me."

With that she left the room, emptying her glass of champagne.

~

"The Nether is made up of two parts: A free land where most mobs naturally spawn, and land where it is ruled by the Lord. Upon entering the ruled land, it is said that your soul is bound to his command. Escape is impossible.

Wither skeletons were first created by normal skeletons and strays. They were result of being burnt alive, then being brought back to life by a mysterious being. It is said that only the Lord knows of him and may speak to our savior.

Skeletons and strays of all kinds are not welcome in the Nether. If they are to set foot in our land, it is said that their bodies will turn to ash within seconds of touching netherite."

The Lord eyes his personal enchanter, reciting the first thesis multiple times before slamming the book shut.

"Escape is impossible?" He exclaims, "Yet that young boy so easily escaped my grasp."

The enchanter pauses. "Well, that boy has always been different. I sensed something in him when he first set foot in your castle, my Lord. I sensed strong potential."

"Potential, you say? If you mean his potential of escaping, then you are quite accurate." The enchanter takes note of her Lord's furious tone, deciding that silence would be the best response in this situation.

"My Lord!" Three guards rush inside of the enchanting room, panting and seemingly out of breath.

"This had best been important," Lord says, "Or the three of you are going to get exiled immediately."

"Very well, my Lord. We believe we've located your son."

"Go on." The three guards exchange glances, a hesitating expression on their faces.

"Well?" The Lord asks impatiently, "Hurry up and tell me before I ultimately decide to behead the three of you."

"As we were saying, we believe we located him. But there is a huge problem," the first guard says, "He's in the Overworld."

The Lord's expression became unreadable. "Good. Now bring him back here without fail. If you return here empty-handed, your fate will be worse than exile."

With that, the Lord was gone.

~


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