Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 108: Appearance of a virtue

A sudden jolt of energy lashed out, hurling him backward.

"How is this thing here?"

A calm, mature voice echoed in his mind — it was Ekoh.

"You recognize it?" Nioh asked, rising slowly, his hand scorched.

"It’s curious... how such a tiny oyster can house so many seeds," Ekoh mused, his tone equal parts wonder and warning.

"Your little love possesses a powerful biocore — frighteningly similar to the ones you’ve been collecting."

"Meaning?"

"If you’re hunting sins, then you could say... she awakened a virtue."

Nioh’s gaze darkened. His fingers clenched.

"Those fools," Ekoh continued coldly. "They tampered with forces they couldn’t comprehend."

"Do you have a way to fix this?"

"Her biocore is a knot of colliding energies," Ekoh replied. "If you had the Sin of Greed, you could simply devour the malignant currents suffocating her."

"But I have the Cosmic Suppressing Physique," Nioh countered.

"At its embryonic stage," Ekoh corrected. "A mere flicker of Greed’s true nature. If you try to absorb even a sliver of her virtue energy, it will ravage your body."

Nioh’s jaw tightened. "I don’t need to take it all — just enough to buy time... until I find Greed."

Without another word, he pressed his hand to her chest once more.

The clashing force of Rona’s biocore reacted violently, repelling him like opposing magnets. His hand split and cracked like brittle stone. Yet he pushed forward, grit in his breath, pain screaming through every nerve. Finally, through sheer will — contact.

The energy surged into him like a wild, poisoned river.

Nioh screamed as the raw current tore through his veins. Dark, jagged lines seared across his skin, racing like lightning across dry earth. His flesh trembled. His bones ached as if they were about to collapse inward.

"Where do you want to store it?" Ekoh asked, voice steady.

"Redirect it into my lower limbs!" Nioh roared through clenched teeth.

Obeying the command, Ekoh forced the corrupted current downward — into Nioh’s legs.

The holoscreen flickered madly, then — slowly — stabilized.

Rona’s vitals leveled out.

Nioh gasped, breath ragged, vision blurry. His legs began to wither — the muscle shrinking, the bone groaning beneath invisible pressure. He sagged, using his uninjured arm to brace against the altar.

"Good," Ekoh confirmed. "She’s stable."

Nioh finally released her, hand trembling, soaked in sweat.

The thousand needle-like fragments that formed his umbrella stirred, reacting to his distress. Guided by the static hum of his will, they reassembled — forming a crude, spindly chair.

He collapsed into it.

"She’s... stable," one of the doctors whispered, disbelieving.

The hall fell into stunned, reverent silence.

Four of the hovering needles shifted once more, rising beneath the altar. With barely a flick of Nioh’s fingers, the entire slab — Akrona and all — lifted effortlessly into the air.

He gestured weakly toward the exit.

Without asking permission.

Without looking back.

He began to leave.

The elders erupted.

"Stop him!" one barked, voice laced with panic — but no one moved.

It was a moment suspended in silence — equal parts solace and humiliation for the leadership of Shurima.

This unknown boy, a stranger, had walked into their sacred halls, offered no titles nor allegiances — and sacrificed his legs to save their princess.

If word got out, the monarchy’s image would crumble.

"Raiya! Stop him!" another elder shouted, naming the one elder with the power to intervene.

The floating chair paused, halting directly before the Monarch of Skullcrushers.

For a long moment, Nioh and the monarch locked eyes.

No words passed between them —

but everything that mattered was said in the silence.

He, with his arrogance and reckless courage, understood what kind of burden it was to sit on a throne — to choose between what is right and what is necessary.

He wasn’t naive. But he was selfish.

And this stunt of his... had just offered her an escape — a way to resolve a dilemma without openly admitting weakness.

The only question left was:

Would she take it?

In her eyes, he saw it — not approval, but something deeper.

Love.

Gratitude.

The monarch truly did care for her daughter — and in this small moment, she accepted that the girl was in good hands.

"Shut up," she said, voice cold and regal, silencing the elders as Nioh turned away with her daughter in tow.

Then, the decree came:

"Let it be known — Princess Akrona has betrayed our traditions, siding with an outsider.

She is to be stripped of royal status... and exiled forever."

Gasps rippled through the chamber.

From the far end, Lithaa burst into tears.

She understood.

This... this was the best possible outcome.

She prayed — just maybe — that lunatic boy had a way to save her sister.

No one moved. No one spoke.

They simply watched, as the boy and the fallen princess vanished into the distant horizon.

—

The outskirts of the city were cloaked in dusk. A hazy twilight wind rolled over the cracked terrain as X, Althea, and Cryo waited near the checkpoint — the farthest they were allowed to approach the inner sanctum. The sun, heavy and red, dipped low against the jagged skyline.

X paced furiously, boots stomping the dirt with each loop. His brow twitched with every second that passed.

"Do you think he’s going to pull another one of his tricks?" he growled. "Slip out the back, vanish for another year?"

Cryo sat cross-legged on a rock, calmly watching his older brother spiral.

"Brother, please," he muttered. "You’re making me dizzy. You’ve walked that same circle thirty-three times."

"Thirty-four," Althea corrected, arms crossed, posture still as a blade.

X whirled around, eyes narrowed.

"You don’t get it. This kid has been ducking the spotlight his entire life. One minute he’s promising the stars — the next, poof. Gone. I chased rumors across half the continent just to find his shadow!"

He stabbed a finger toward the city. "I swear, if he ditches us again—"

"He won’t."

Her voice was soft, but final. The kind of certainty born from something deeper than evidence.

Cryo looked up. "You believe in him that much?"

Althea didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted to the horizon, then suddenly froze.

"He’s back."

The others turned — and time slowed. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Out of the shimmering heatwaves, a shape emerged. A floating altar, drifting steadily through the dust-laden wind. Atop it lay Akrona, still and pale. Walking beside it — or rather, dragging himself beside it — was Nioh.

They ran.

X’s confident swagger cracked in an instant. "No..." he breathed, eyes wide. "What happened to you?"

Nioh’s legs were a nightmare — shrivelled to the bone, skin like old parchment, laced with blackened veins. His face was so pale it was nearly translucent, eyes sunken, lips cracked. Sweat ran freely down his temples.

He gave a tired smile. "Good to see you too, X."

"Young master, speak to me—" X started, but Nioh cut him off with a raised hand.

"I’m fine. Just... get me a wheelchair. This levitation isn’t going to last much longer."

Althea’s eyes had locked onto Akrona. "Is she... alive?"

Nioh nodded. "Stable. For now. But we’re running out of time."

He winced, coughing sharply into his sleeve. "There’s been a change in plan. I’m taking her back to Daywith. The Healers there... they might be her only hope."

Althea stepped forward, voice firm.

"And the Fangs? The Citadel’s expecting you. We can’t just—"

"You’ll have to take the lead in my absence."

He looked directly at her, eyes sharp despite the fatigue. "We’ve gathered enough Conqueror Points to avoid elimination. Don’t take unnecessary missions. Avoid making noise. Stay under the radar. I trust you, Althea. Keep the Fangs alive in the rankings."

She looked stunned.

"You’re trusting me with everything?"

He nodded again. "Who else do I have?"

Her lips trembled, just for a second. "You better come back. Because I’m not doing your job forever."

He gave a soft chuckle, followed by another cough. "Deal."

Cryo stepped beside him quietly, scanning the corrupted patterns climbing up Nioh’s legs.

"It’s spreading fast."

"I know," Nioh said.

Then he looked straight at him. "Freeze them."

Cryo hesitated, brows furrowed.

"Are you sure? You’ve already lost too much sensation—"

"I won’t be able to suppress it much longer," Nioh said, gritting his teeth. "Just seal the damn thing. Before it eats me alive."

Cryo didn’t argue further. He knelt and activated his bracers, placing them gently against Nioh’s ruined knees. A loud hiss filled the air as a freezing mist erupted. The ground frosted over beneath them as layer upon layer of ice grew like armor, encapsulating Nioh’s lower legs in translucent crystal. Veins of frost etched up the sides, sealing in the surging corruption beneath.

Nioh groaned through clenched teeth. When it was over, his breath trembled.

"Thank you."

X came running back, pushing a battered wheelchair. "It’s not royal, but it rolls."

Nioh smiled weakly. With a flick of his fingers, his body floated gently into the seat. The thousand floating needles stirred once again, reforming into the familiar curved umbrella, hovering loyally at his side.

He looked around at the three of them, eyes lingering on each face.

"It’s been a long time..."

A soft, broken smile.

"Let’s go home."