Limitless Evolution: The Path To Immortality

Chapter 256 Beast Horde [4] - Aftermath



Chapter 256 Beast Horde [4] - Aftermath

Chapter 256 Beast Horde [4] - Aftermath

[A/N: Huge thank you to parkzinho, CrownRoyal86, and Tim_Wallace for their gifts and support.]

"Do you think we've lost them?" Deton suddenly asked, breaking the tension-filled quiet in the group. He was breathing heavily, panting like a dog in the summer while reeling over as saliva and puke dripped out of his mouth. They had been running for several minutes, and despite how healthy Deton might seem to the untrained eye, running at such high speeds for such a long distance was quite taxing for him.

Of course, it didn't help that everyone else in the group had Toki to help them traverse the environment with ease. None of them had broken a sweat, and that was exactly what was getting on Deton's nerves.

"We did… Quite a long time ago." Siltheria sighed while Deton stared daggers into her soul.

"How long ago?" Deton asked his knuckles whitening as he tightened his fists.

"They didn't really follow us. It was only a few lower amethyst cores who came after us, and they stopped a while ago." As Siltheria said those words, everyone else in the group saw something flare in Deton's eyes. It was pure and unadulterated rage. His eyes were like balls of fiery fury.

Just before Deton could clasp his hands and sing a melody that would have impaled Siltheria a hundred times, Alcraz spoke in her stead.

"The beasts and monsters hid from us before even though we were observing our surroundings. There is no way for us to tell if they hadn't done that again. Sure, sensing the sapphire cores would be infinitely easier now that we know they are in the forest. They release a certain pressure that I'm sure every toki wielder can sense if the know what they are looking for. But I'm certain that, if a weaker one was to follow us using the same cloaking ability all those creatures did back then, we would not be able to notice it." Alcraz explained, his every word slowly calming Deton down.

After a while of silence, Gigi suddenly spoke.

"We left a man behind…" Her voice was weak and raspy as if her throat was incredibly dry. Her eyes did not leave the ground for a moment as she said those words. Her bangs cast a shadow over her face, making it impossible for them to see how she was feeling without pooling toki into the outer layer of their eyes.

"There was nothing we could do… He was a sacrifice that had to be made. If we went for any longer, it would be all of us dying, not just him." Siltheria heaved out a breath while leaning onto a tree. She was back in her normal form. She had legs again and was no longer twice as large as a normal woman.

"Still…" Gigi gritted her teeth in rage.

"You can't blame any of us from running away." Deton chimed in with a hint of resentment in his voice. "It's not wrong to want to survive. Plus, the kid was weak. He wouldn't have gotten anywhere in life. Losing one of us would have a significantly more impactful difference to the world than losing him. Plus, we wouldn't have survived if we stayed back. Better an alive coward than a brave idiotic hero." Deton shrugged. While Gigi remained silent, not wanting to speak a word.

After resting for a while they began to walk again, trying to forget everything that happened to calm their minds. Ironically enough, the world around them did not seem to wish the same fate upon them.

Jolts of uneasiness ran under their skins like a million ants marching through their veins. Each heartbeat felt worse than the next as a sense of dread bloomed within their hearts. It was a dread that they had never felt before. A form of dread that would make a normal person curl up into a ball and scream until they reached madness.

Suddenly, it felt like they were being watched. As if millions of eyes stared into their life forces, wanting to devour their soul. Low and inaudible whispers clawed at the fringes of their consciousness, their soft and melodic voices trickling down their ears like boiling water.

Ravings and roars of pain and suffering echoed through their minds with enough force to make the average person reach madness in a matter of seconds.

Such a phenomenon occurred throughout the majority of the forest.

Some beasts died on the spot… Or at least the beasts that were closest to the source of these ravings, while others dropped to the ground and convulsed madly, writhing and wriggling on the ground like dying worms.

Birds fell out of the skies while the clouds became gloomy red.

Humans in the city of Uladia suddenly felt like their skins were itching, but due to the distance between them and the source, that was all that occurred to them.

Feeling that something was wrong. Every student in the forest moved as quickly as possible in order to reach the camp again, while military officers throughout the forest helped them get out of the area as well.

Once Alcraz and his group reached the camp, they quickly looked around, their eyes darting back and forth before locking upon a figure in the distance that stared into the forest with a horror-stricken expression.

There were many students who looked uneasy within the group, however, the teacher was by far the worst of them all. His elvish ears drooped toward the ground, while shivers ran through his body, visible to the naked eye. His silver eyes shook uncontrollably, yet, despite his clear fear, he didn't move a muscle."Oh. You guys are back." Syra suddenly stepped forward with a slightly annoyed expression. Every time she thought of Silas, she would think back to what he said to Ivy and feel a surge of rage run through her veins.

"Where's S- Game?" She asked after looking at the group for a while.

The group remained silent.

They all looked at each other but didn't know what to say. Some, like Alcraz and Gigi, looked guilty, while Deton and Siltheria looked at Syra with pity.

"Where's the game?" Syra narrowed her eyes in suspicion."

"…"

"Let's talk in private." Gigi sighed and grabbed Syra by the shoulder before taking her into one of the tents.

***

Lochras Skylark arrived at the scene, the echoes of an immense power still reverberating through the air, setting his senses on edge. The once chaotic field of battle lay eerily silent, the stillness a stark contrast to the turmoil that must have preceded his arrival. His trained eyes took in the sight, the aftermath of devastation laid out before him with clinical precision.

The ground was scarred, pockmarked with craters, and slick with ichor, painting a grotesque tapestry of the conflict that had unfolded. Trees that once stood tall now lay splintered, a testament to the ferocity of the confrontation. Here and there, remnants of what once were fearsome beasts and monsters lay scattered. Some were charred beyond recognition, others dismembered or crushed with such force that it spoke of an opponent of terrifying strength and ruthlessness.

What caught Lochras's attention most, however, was the absence of corpses that should belong to the defeated. There were signs of them, certainly—a limb here, a swath of scales there—but the bodies were largely absent as if the earth had swallowed them whole or an unseen hand had taken them away. The blood was still fresh, indicating that the conclusion of the battle was recent, and the victor had left no trail, no sign of their passage.

Sapphire cores, once vibrant with life, were now dim and lifeless, scattered like broken gems upon the ravaged earth. The topaz cores, previously half of the battle force, were nowhere to be seen. It was as if a maelstrom had swept through the area, leaving only the detritus of violence in its wake.

As Lochras moved through the devastation, his mind raced, piecing together the narrative of the clash from the clues left behind. Whoever had stood here, faced down the horde alone, and emerged victorious was a being of extraordinary power. The kind of power that spoke of legend, of old tales whispered in fear and awe by the fireside.

A chill ran down his spine as he pondered the implications. For the creatures of Xylem to have been dispatched with such efficiency and brutality, the individual capable of this feat was someone—or something—that demanded both respect and wariness.

The aura of death hung heavy, a palpable presence that made even a seasoned warrior like Lochras Skylark uneasy. He knew that this place would be spoken of in hushed tones, a site of an inexplicable slaughter that the soldiers under his command would be reluctant to visit.

He scanned the horizon one last time, seeking any sign of the perpetrator, any clue to their identity or purpose. But there was nothing. Only the whispering wind moved through the desolation as if trying to erase the evidence of the massacre that had transpired. Lochras turned away, his mind awash with questions and the uneasy feeling that the battle he had just witnessed was only a precursor to something far greater and more terrifying.

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