Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 53: Goodbye Message

X had been running on fumes for five days straight, scouring every inch of the archipelago for any trace of the prince. But no matter where he looked, no matter how deep they dug—there was nothing.

The only explanation left was the one he refused to accept.

Disintegration.

The mere thought made his stomach churn. Nioh, erased from existence in a single explosion? Nobody, no remains, just—gone?

No. He couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t.

The Monarch had been informed of the situation and would take action soon. That much was inevitable. But as X wandered aimlessly through the base, his feet carried him somewhere familiar—Nioh’s laboratory. He had walked this path countless times, always returning here after a mission, reporting back to the prince who never failed to have some new invention or scheme in progress.

Now, the silence weighed on him like a mountain.

A pang of grief struck his chest as he glanced around the empty lab. Dust had begun to settle on the machines, and instinctively, he reached out, wiping them clean with slow, deliberate motions.

"I’m sorry, kid," he whispered. "I was the one who pulled you into this..."

His fingers trembled as they brushed over the cold steel of the workbenches. Then, something unfamiliar caught his eye.

A covered object, neatly placed on the central workstation.

Frowning, he pulled the sheet away.

The lab’s automated system flickered to life, lights humming softly as a hidden compartment in the table unlocked. A sleek glass case emerged, revealing a weapon encased inside—a sword.

X’s breath caught.

It was beautiful. A long, bright red blade, impossibly thin yet razor-sharp, etched with intricate flaming patterns. The craftsmanship was flawless, tailored to his exact fighting style.

His hands clenched into fists. He had asked Nioh for a sword countless times, but the prince always brushed him off, saying he was "too busy for basic weapons."

Yet here it was.

A surprise. A gift he had never expected.

A single tear slipped down his cheek before he hastily wiped it away. Then, as soon as his fingers touched the handle, a voice crackled to life.

Nioh’s voice.

"Hey X, if you’re hearing this message, that means I’m not around anymore.

X sucked in a breath.

"Don’t look so down. This is a great opportunity for the Monarch to sweep through enemy forces—he shouldn’t hesitate to dismantle all alliances. That’ll buy enough time for the Twins. Marsai will know what to do with the support of the conservative faction to even out the odds.

Tell the Monarch to never declare me dead. As long as they think I’m missing, the enemy will keep searching for me. That alone is enough to throw them off.

The sword is my gift to you, for your loyalty. It’s forged with Pyrocore steel—light as a feather but strong enough to cleave through A-tier constructs. The blade channels fire affinity effortlessly, amplifying your abilities tenfold. It should suit you perfectly.

X swallowed hard, gripping the hilt tighter.

"If the Narnia raid succeeds, don’t haggle over export or management rights. Exchange all the merits for an S-tier Biocore for Cryo. It’ll be a massive boost to his abilities. That’s my final wish."

"I’m sorry for the trauma you and the others are about to go through. But there was no other way.

I’ll leave the rest to you."

A sharp beep followed.

"This message will now self-destruct."

Instantly, the lab systems began wiping themselves clean—every last trace of data, schematics, and blueprints disappearing in a cascade of cascading code. Within seconds, everything was gone.

X stood frozen, staring at the empty screens, at the vacant space where years of research had just been erased.

Then, for the first time in days, he smiled.

A genuine, bright, almost foolish grin stretched across his face as he stared down at the sword in his hands. His vision blurred, but he didn’t wipe the tears away this time.

"This damn kid," he muttered, chuckling through the lump in his throat. "Always trying to carry everything on his own..."

His grip tightened around the hilt.

"If this is part of your plan, Nioh, then... you better still be alive."

—

The mastermind behind all this mayhem sat slumped on the deck of a clandestine flying ship, its aged engines groaning as it cut through the night sky.

Nioh’s body was in ruins. The explosion had left him battered—limbs burned, muscles aching, his once-sharp features marred by fresh scars. But despite it all, a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he gazed out at the endless stretch of clouds.

"The result was better than I expected," he murmured.

A scoff echoed in his mind.

"Better? Are you serious? We’re basically back to zero. You lost your scythe, your money, and your good looks."

Nioh rolled his eyes. "Don’t be such a negative Nancy, Ekoh."

"Oh, excuse me for stating the obvious," Ekoh shot back. "The scythe? Gone. The fortune? Burned. Your face? Well, let’s just say you’re not winning any beauty contests anytime soon."

Nioh sighed, shifting his weight against the rickety wooden railing. "The scythe can be rebuilt—I never liked that weapon anyway. Money? It comes and goes. And as for my good looks..."

His fingers brushed absentmindedly over his bandaged face. Escaping the explosion had been a gamble—a desperate last-second move. He had used the force of his own roar to deflect the blast, launching himself into the depths of the sea. The impact had been brutal, tossing him like a rag doll through the wreckage.

By the time he dragged himself ashore days later, his limbs were charred, his skin seared, his face barely recognizable. A half-drunken physician had taken one look at him and declared that without surgery, his body would never fully recover.

But Nioh knew better.

Under Ekoh’s care, his body would regenerate—eventually.

That didn’t change the fact that right now, he had nothing. Just his broken body and the entry token he had secured from Magnus.

All his money had been spent on basic medical treatment and a ticket aboard this rickety, unregistered ship.

Still, despite everything, he exhaled slowly, letting his eyes drift back to the horizon.

"It’s all going to be alright," he said. And this time, he meant it