The sweat continued to pour down Harin's forehead.

  He began to tremble slightly, his face looking down, his grim and solemn expression becoming more and more vivid.

  His old face, carved and aged from the prolonged exposure to time’s relentless passage, seemed to tighten with every second.

  Finally, Butler Harin took a deep breath and exhaled.

  Calming himself down, he said, “My lord, I can’t disobey your command,” referring to Arther’s question as a *command*.

  Harin’s solemn expression remained, but he slightly looked up, meeting Arther’s gaze this time after another deep inhale and exhale.

  “My lord, you are the seventh prince of the Imperial Palace of the land Oriolel—one of the direct sons of the Monarch of Oriolel.”

  “About your status…” He paused for a long moment before continuing, “You are the seventh prince of Oriolel.”

  “But you are seen as trash…” Another long pause followed. “You possess the *Molten Genetic*, a very rare yet—to most—a suicidal gene because of its mechanism of burning oneself from the inside to temporarily gain power beyond limits.”

  “Those who possess the Molten Body are usually demons, who have high internal defense for their organs and flesh,” he continued.

  “But their impure bodies make it impossible to maintain for as long as a human Molten Gene. Even though it’s not a human genetic trait, the human body is far purer.”

  “The Molten Gene in humans is rare. But unlike genes passed down by parents, the Molten Gene doesn’t come from a human-demon relationship—it originates from the legendary Molten Lords. My lord can find more information in the Royal Archives of Oriolel, as this butler’s knowledge is limited, not omnipotent.”

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  “As the lord possesses the Molten Gene and humans cannot unleash its full power, it is considered a very weak gene that grants an *invincible state* for only one or two minutes against an equal-level opponent. Agile enemies can simply stall for time when a Molten Gene human rampages like a headless chicken.”

  “If my lord has forgotten, I will say: you poured all your stat points into *Agility* to try to counter this flaw. But you hadn’t had the time to test it before being bitten by the Strayfish and poisoned.”

  The butler provided all the necessary information to Arther.

  Arther was slightly taken aback by the information.

  First, as he suspected, he was a prince—but surprisingly, a *direct son* of a monarch.

  Second, this world didn’t follow the term *“class”* as in his world; instead, for some reason, they referred to their powers as *genes.*

  Third, he had unknowingly stumbled upon a drop of historical and world knowledge.

  “This world has these fantasy creatures… Demons, like in most fantasy novels, are the mortal enemies of humans,” Arther sighed internally.

  “What is the Strayfish?” Arther asked.

  “It is an ancient creature about the size of a human palm. It can live for centuries—far longer than the typical human lifespan.”

  “They are covered from top to bottom with paper-thin, razor-sharp, feather-like flexible spikes.”

  “At the tip of these spikes lies a parasite called *Tactic Connectors*.”

  “After stepping on one of these fishes, your body gets pierced by the small spikes. The parasites then enter your bloodstream, piercing through with their unique abilities and attacking the *connectors* of your body—the parts that link your entire body to obey your will.”

  “There are four connectors in total—two on the elbows, and another two on the lower calves. If these are controlled, the fifth connector in the neck becomes useless.”

  “But the body will instinctively resist with *mana-powered defender cells*.”

  (The mention of defender cells might be equivalent to white blood cells on Earth, perhaps.)

  “And during the resistance, half of the parasites will die. But the remaining half will latch onto the vein walls, continuously absorbing nutrients and mana from your blood.”

  “They will grow several to dozens of times in size before splitting into six or seven new parasites. They have no childhood or adulthood—they are born fully developed.”

  “The newly grown parasites—half of them will rush to attack the four connectors, while the other half will latch onto the vein walls again, absorbing mana and nutrients to grow and split once more…”

  He paused for a moment before continuing, his face turning grimmer.

  “It doesn’t take long. Within two hours, they can split again and again.”

  “The mana-powered blood defenders eventually get outnumbered—usually in a ratio of 1 to 60 within a day.”

  He continued.

  “After four to five days, they will launch a full-scale siege with no reserves, leading to most people’s connectors getting damaged. Then, the parasites—numbering in the hundreds of billions—slowly start to connect with each other like a bridge, taking over the connectors by acting as if they were a natural part of the body.”

  The butler continued explaining about the *Tactic Connectors.*

  Then his face turned solemn again.

  “And once that happens, the humans become fully controlled by the parasites—without even realizing it. Every action, every emotion is manipulated by the parasite. Sometimes, they even loosen their hold just to make the person act more naturally.”

  ---

  **End of Chapter 7**