The silence that reclaimed the ruined world proved short-lived.
Only a few minutes after the brown-haired man disappeared, the fabric of space fractured once again. Jagged cracks spread across the empty battlefield before tearing open completely, revealing a pitch-black rift. An oppressive aura leaked from within as a lone figure slowly stepped out, followed by an army that could only be described as something born from dark nightmares.
The man wore a long black priest’s robe that brushed against the scorched earth with every step. His face was enough to unsettle even the bravest of warriors. It wasn’t a normal face, but one seemingly stitched together from countless pieces of flesh. Thick black threads crawled across his skin like centipedes, binding mismatched patches together into a grotesque imitation of a human visage.
Behind him marched hundreds of corpses.
None of them possessed complete bodies.
Some had four arms sewn onto human torsos. Others possessed the legs of beasts, the wings of monstrous birds, or heads stitched together from multiple creatures. Every single corpse looked like the product of some twisted experiment, their dead eyes staring blankly ahead while black necrotic energy seeped endlessly from the countless seams holding them together.
The moment the priest stepped onto the battlefield, his senses expanded outward.
Invisible waves swept across the ruins.
The lingering fluctuations left behind by numerous Laws still remained within the air. Traces of blazing infernos, freezing ice, violent lightning, curses, and the remnants of the ancient formation intertwined throughout the battlefield, silently recounting the devastating battle that had taken place only moments ago.
Everywhere he looked bore scars of war.
Massive craters littered the landscape.
Entire streets had vanished beneath overwhelming force.
Buildings had long since collapsed into mountains of rubble, while the earth itself remained blackened by flames so intense that even now faint wisps of smoke still rose from the scorched ground.
The priest slowly walked forward.
Eventually, he stopped before a small pile of gray ash.
He crouched down before scooping a handful into his palm.
For several seconds, he simply stared at it.
Then he slowly opened his hand.
The wind carried the ashes away, scattering them throughout the silent ruins.
His already grim expression darkened even further.
"So..."
"He killed every single one of them."
The words escaped his mouth almost as a whisper.
His fingers slowly curled into a fist.
"That bastard..."
"I’ll kill you."
"Even if it’s the last thing I ever do."
His stitched face twisted into an expression so hateful it somehow became even more grotesque than before.
Behind him...
The silent army of stitched corpses remained perfectly still as if waiting for his command.
---
Meanwhile...
Back within the Verdant World, the group’s brief rest soon came to an end.
Under Ezra’s guidance, they continued deeper through the outer regions of the forest, hunting monster after monster with remarkable efficiency. Thanks to her scouting Spirit Beast, every encounter was carefully chosen, allowing them to avoid unnecessary danger while ensuring Lyra fought opponents appropriate for her level.
Whenever a pack was located, Jonathan and the others would move first.
Their role wasn’t to kill.
It was to subdue.
The monsters were beaten until they no longer possessed the strength to resist before being left for Lyra to deliver the finishing blow.
As the battles continued, experience accumulated at an astonishing rate.
Her level rose rapidly.
Most of the creatures they encountered were insignificant compared to the strength of Jonathan’s team, but to Lyra, they represented enemies far beyond what she could normally challenge. Every successful hunt granted enormous experience, causing her level to skyrocket throughout the afternoon.
Jonathan handled the majority of the fighting.
Whether intentionally or not, he always seemed to rush ahead first whenever monsters appeared, clearly trying to impress Lyra with his strength. The rest of the team occasionally stepped in whenever larger groups appeared, quickly suppressing the battlefield before allowing Lyra to finish the remaining monsters herself.
Watching from the sidelines, Kael had to admit something.
The team’s coordination was excellent.
No one hesitated.
No one questioned another’s decisions.
Every member instinctively understood their role, covering each other’s weaknesses with practiced precision. It wasn’t simply teamwork born from experience.
It was trust.
The kind of trust that only formed after countless life-and-death battles together.
Among hunters, such relationships were exceptionally rare.
The profession itself encouraged suspicion. Teammates betrayed one another for valuable drops. Entire parties were wiped out by those they once trusted. Plunderers lurked within countless rifts, waiting to ambush exhausted hunters returning from battle.
Because of that...
Most hunting parties operated with caution even among themselves.
Jonathan’s team was different.
They genuinely trusted each other.
As the hours passed, the hunt eventually drew to a close.
By the time Jonathan announced that they had gathered enough for the day, Lyra’s level had already climbed to thirty.
Kael quietly activated the Eye of Judgment.
A familiar translucent screen appeared before his eyes.
---
[Name: Lyra Voss (Fake), Nyxara Dawnfire (True Name)]
[Title: Ruinborn (Locked)]
[Class: Fire Mage, Ashen Sovereign (Locked)]
[Class Perks: Fire Manipulation, Ember Resonance]
[Level: 30] [4%]
[Health: —]
[Mana: 1,980]
•—Stats—•
[Strength: 71]
[Agility: 62]
[Endurance: 84]
[Intelligence: 132]
[Vitality: —]
[Constitution: —]
•—Physique: Unified Chaos Body (Locked)—•
---
Kael studied the screen quietly.
Lyra’s growth had been remarkable.
Compared to the last time he checked, every visible stat had increased substantially. Unfortunately, the information he wanted most remained hidden behind those frustrating Locked notifications.
The Ashen Sovereign Class.
The Ruinborn Title.
The Unified Chaos Body.
All of them remained inaccessible.
He couldn’t help wondering what conditions were required to unlock them.
Would it happen naturally as her level increased?
Or would it require some special opportunity?
For now...
There was no answer.
Before he could think further, the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention away from the status screen.
Stanley stopped beside him, resting his massive shield against one shoulder.
"Hey, man."
"We’ve still got a little time left."
He nodded toward the forest ahead.
"Are you sure you don’t want to join in? We can still help you gain a few levels before we head back."
Kael shook his head.
"Nah."
"I’m good."
"You guys have already done enough by helping Lyra."
Stanley looked at him for a moment before shrugging.
"Fair enough."
"If that’s what you want."
Not far away, Jonathan and the others exchanged brief glances.
In their eyes, Kael’s refusal came from pride.
They assumed he didn’t want to be carried.
Kael remained completely oblivious to what they were thinking.
Even if he knew...
He wouldn’t have cared.
Carried?
The thought almost made him laugh.
None of them possessed the strength to carry him.
Before the silence could continue any longer, Jonathan clapped his hands together to gather everyone’s attention.
"Alright, everyone."
"That’s enough for today."
He looked around the group before nodding toward the fortress in the distance.
"Pack everything up."
"It’s time to head back."