Chapter 79: Mikoto’s Overwhelming Killing Intent and Boundless Hatred

From the pitch-black mouth of the cavern came a mournful wailing, sounding both like the low moan of wind and the hopeless cries of an infant.

Was it all too easy? Whether it was tracking or locating the enemy’s lair, everything had gone so smoothly, as if someone had scripted their every move and they were merely following the plot to its inevitable conclusion.

But in the final moments, any doubts had to be suppressed. Staring into the demonic cave, the four stood ready, gathering their spiritual energy, waiting for the enemy to appear so they could deliver a fatal blow.

One breath, two breaths, the time it takes to finish a cup of tea passed. The enemy did not appear, but the wailing persisted, unchanged.

Qi grew anxious. Misaka Mikoto was inside, perhaps facing unknown dangers, or already delivered into the hands of the evil cultivator.

“I don't have time to wait. If you won’t go in, I’ll go in alone.” With these words, Qi disappeared in a flash, vanishing into the gloomy cave under the astonished gazes of the others.

“Young master, please wait. Allow me to investigate first.” The refined young man left this message and swiftly followed into the cave.

Within moments, violent surges of spiritual power erupted from inside, faintly accompanied by explosions.

“Young master, the enemy has set up a formation in the cave. I am temporarily trapped. That evil cultivator has reached the Core Formation stage. The boy can barely hold on,” came the urgent cry from the refined young man within.

The alluring woman and the silver-haired lady exchanged a glance and were about to enter when suddenly a pillar of orange-red light burst from the mountain, shooting towards the sky. After rising a few dozen feet, the light dissipated, revealing a figure previously obscured.

It was a baby with a head that dominated more than one-third of its body, skin blazing red, the corners of its mouth stretched to its ears, exposing bloodstained, razor-sharp teeth, bits of flesh still wedged between them.

“What a surprise, truly astonishing. I never imagined a female infant would possess such formidable lightning manipulation, not through spells but as an innate talent—how enviable, hehehehe,” the grotesque infant cackled.

“He’s really succeeded—reached the Core Formation stage,” the alluring woman exclaimed, her expression darkening. If the opponent was a Core Formation expert, the outcome would be uncertain.

From the searing hole where the light had erupted, another tiny figure flew out—a girl. Her face was etched with terror, pain, fury, and overwhelming hatred.

---

When Misaka Mikoto was first brought into the cavern of the grotesque infant, she was fully conscious. The first thing she saw was the pile of white bones piled against the left wall, illuminated starkly by the light. Stains of blood and uneaten flesh still clung to them, exuding a heavy, metallic scent.

Misaka Mikoto stared blankly at the bones, her mind unable to process the scene. Who had eaten these bones and left them so haphazardly, still smeared with blood? Could it be the remains of some beast’s feast?

As she adjusted to the dimming light, she began to sense someone on her right watching her, making her uneasy. Yet her gaze was fixed, terrified, on the small figure before her.

The grotesque infant’s appearance shocked her deeply. She wondered if this child had consumed some poisonous formula—how pitiful. But where was the rumored evil cultivator who used infants for cultivation?

With that question, she turned her gaze to the right, compelled by the feeling of being watched.

In that instant, her breath stopped, her pupils contracted to pinpoints, and her body froze. A moment later, she let out a shrill scream of terror, piercing and high, as if shattering the heavens.

Her scream startled the other black-robed figures; even the infants in their arms began to cry, and the cavern erupted in chaos.

The woman in black quickly covered Misaka Mikoto’s mouth, silencing her cries.

“What a delightful sound—a clever infant indeed. Let’s save her for last, so I can savor her terror with my meal, hehehehe,” the grotesque infant cackled, reaching out to snatch the smallest baby from a black-robed figure.

He could barely lift the child, his body no taller than the infant’s, his thin, stubby arms unable to embrace it. He could only grip the baby by the neck to hold it steady.

“Ha ha ha, little girl, watch closely and scream in fear. Don’t cover her mouth anymore,” he said to the woman in black.

Misaka Mikoto finally tore her gaze away from the hundred grimacing heads and hateful eyes embedded in the right wall, and stared straight ahead. Her mind was blank. Raised in the Academy City as an upright, cheerful, kind-hearted esper, she was utterly unprepared for this horrific scene—her thoughts stalled, her brain shut down.

A piercing cry of agony broke through her stupor. First, she felt the trembling body of the woman holding her, then she was confronted with a scene so hellish that even the deepest inferno could not compare.

The grotesque infant gripped the baby by the neck and by a small foot, opened his maw lined with sharp teeth, and shoved the foot inside. His jaws snapped shut, blood and the crisp sound of bones breaking filled the air as he chewed.

---

The tormented cries and desperate struggles of the infant echoed through the cavern, but the hand gripping him did not waver. Instead, the grotesque infant forced the child to watch as his left foot was devoured, never once looking away from Misaka Mikoto.

He seemed pleased with her reaction, as she was once again stunned, trembling all over with fear, her eyes bloodshot, her breath forgotten.

A furious scream, muffled by the cave’s formation, tore from her throat.

Misaka Mikoto was consumed with rage—an intense, seething hatred. For the first time in her life, she tasted the bitterness of hate so deep that it twisted her once-lovely features.

Hate—hate—hate.

In her bloodshot eyes burned the same hatred found in the hundreds of infant heads embedded in the wall, the same hatred that had spawned hers. It was her own hate, and theirs, overwhelming and boundless.

For the first time, the desire to kill someone surged from the depths of her heart. She had to kill him. She had to.

Kill—kill—kill.

This murderous intent flooded her mind, her heart, radiating from her entire being. It was enough to engulf the seas.

To kill that monster was her only thought, and she meant to act upon it at once.

(While writing this passage, my emotions were deeply conflicted—I felt the urge to skip it entirely, yet somehow, the words spilled forth. Enough said; I hope I haven’t frightened any young readers.)