Wasteland: I Awakene Chapter 48: Survivors Coming For Ruins

Chapter 48: Survivors Coming For Ruins

anwhile, as Vikram was already on his way back toward his territory, an entirely different scene was unfolding near the ruins he had just conquered.

Three Survivors cautiously approached the outskirts of the ruined structure.

Logically speaking, it was extrely rare for so many Survivors to appear within the sa region. The initial teleportation distance between Survivors had been nearly fifteen kiloters, and with the population constantly decreasing due to disasters and conflict, encounters were supposed to be even less frequent.

Yet this was already the second group to arrive in this area within a short period of ti.

Earlier, Vikram had crossed paths with Amit and his small team. Now, three more figures were moving through the snow-covered wasteland with firm and purposeful steps.

From their steady pace and alert movents, it was obvious that these were not ordinary panicked Survivors wandering aimlessly. They carried themselves like people who had made up their minds long ago. There was a strong possibility that they had co specifically in search of the ruins.

However, they were not the only ones drawn by the mysterious phenonon.

From another direction, seven more Survivors gradually erged through the drifting snow.

Their silhouettes appeared one after another behind a low ridge, forming a small but organized group. Compared to the trio who had arrived first, this second team looked even more disciplined. So carried crude weapons, while others constantly scanned their surroundings, clearly wary of ambushes or hidden threats.

What Vikram did not know was that the pillar of light that had risen from the ruins earlier had acted like a beacon in the frozen wasteland.

Within dozens of kiloters, many Survivors had witnessed that abnormal radiance piercing the sky.

To desperate people struggling for survival, such a phenonon could only an one thing — opportunity.

Treasure.

Power.

Or a chance to change their fate.

If Vikram had still been present at the ruins, he would undoubtedly have developed a splitting headache.

So many unknown Survivors suddenly appearing in the region where his Shelter was located was far from good news.

The ruins were only about ten kiloters away from his territory.

With this many people spreading out to investigate the surroundings, the traces of his activities — footprints, hunting remains, broken vegetation, even faint paths ford by repeated movent — could eventually be discovered.

And if soone were sharp enough to follow those subtle clues...

They might one day find the hidden Treehouse Shelter he had worked so hard to build.

What would happen then — whether conflict, alliance, betrayal, or war — was a question that even fate itself had not yet answered.

For now, Vikram rode through the snow completely unaware that the calm around his territory was beginning to change.

The two groups gradually drew closer, with the ruins now only about two hundred ters away.

Before long, the people approaching from both directions finally noticed each other.

A faint trace of desire could be seen in their eyes. It was obvious that both sides clearly understood why the other had co.

From the group of seven Survivors, the leader first sent forward a burly, strong-bodied man to probe the situation.

Seeing that the other side had the advantage in numbers, the three Survivors did not dare to act rashly. For the mont, they could only pretend to be friendly and engage the approaching man in a superficial conversation.

"Hello, are you also Survivors from around this area?" the leader of the trio asked.

Of course, he himself was not from the vicinity. He phrased it that way rely to gather so information.

Unexpectedly, the burly man ignored his polite pretense completely and replied in a blunt, impolite tone.

"There’s no need to act. We’re all here because we were drawn by the treasure."

"Ah..."

Hearing this, the hunter-dressed man let out an awkward sigh.

Now that his disguise had been exposed so quickly, he found himself at a loss for words.

At that mont, the burly man spoke again.

"Our Shelter’s boss wants to see you. Co with ."

His domineering tone left the three of them no room to refuse. After speaking, he simply turned around and began walking back, as if he had already judged that they would not dare to run.

"This... boss, should we follow him?" the young man asked nervously.

"Follow my ass! Just because he tells us to go, we should go? I say we head straight back. It’s not like we’ll die if we miss this treasure."

"He’s just a bit strong — why’s he acting so high and mighty, like we owe him money?"

The stubble-faced middle-aged man was usually not hot-tempered, but now he deliberately raised his voice, clearly intending for the burly man ahead to hear him.

"Shh!

Keep your voice down. From my years of hunting experience, that man is incredibly strong. If you provoke him, you’re dead."

"Afraid of what? If he dares to co at , I’ll beat that bastard to death."

The three of them had only tead up to survive in the Wasteland. They had no deeper bond.

At this mont, the stubble-faced man, clearly looking down on the hunter’s caution, ignored the warning entirely and continued shouting loudly.

For a mont, the burly man walking ahead had indeed heard the stubble-faced middle-aged man’s outrageous remarks.

A shadow passed over his eyes. Without the slightest hesitation, he pulled a hunting bow from his bag. His muscles swelled as he drew the bowstring taut like a full moon and released an arrow straight at the still-chattering man.

"Hmph... good shot!"

Facing the incoming arrow, the middle-aged man remained full of confidence. He swiftly brandished the long knife in his hand, intending to split the arrow in mid-air.

What he didn’t realize was that he was no match for the burly man.

As if to prove the point, the arrow was indeed struck by his blade — but instead of snapping in two as he had imagined, it was only deflected slightly before driving deep into his shoulder.

"Ahhh!"

The middle-aged man cried out and collapsed to his knees. The arrowhead had lodged deep into the bone. Blood poured from the wound, dripping onto the ground and quickly staining the pale snow crimson.

The searing pain made cold sweat break out across his body. Still, he retained enough clarity to know that in such freezing weather the wound could quickly stiffen and worsen. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to act.

With a trembling right hand, he grabbed the shaft and yanked the arrow out.

"Ugh...!"

A muffled groan escaped his throat as he endured the agony.

His full-strength strike had failed even to block a casually fired arrow. Realizing he had kicked an iron plate and stood no chance against this opponent, he imdiately chose to submit.

Raising both hands high, he showed his surrender.

"Brother... I was wrong. I was just talking nonsense. I’ll go with you right now. Please don’t kill !"

But the burly man’s next action sent his heart plunging into despair.

Seeing that the first arrow had failed to finish him, the burly man calmly raised his longbow once more.

Indifference flickered across his eyes as he ignored the plea for rcy. Without another word, he drew and released again.

"Whoosh!"

The arrow tore through the cold air.

The middle-aged man’s face turned deathly pale. His mind went blank. Forgetting even the bleeding wound in his shoulder, he spun around and fled for his life.

However, no matter how fast he ran, how could he possibly outrun an arrow fired from such close range?

In the next instant, the arrow struck his thigh dead center. The sheer force of the impact sent him tumbling forward, his body thrown nearly two ters before crashing into the snow.

"Ahhh—my leg!"

The stubble-faced middle-aged man rolled on the ground in agony. The arrow had pierced straight through his thigh, and as he struggled, the blood-soaked shaft trembled grotesquely, bits of torn flesh clinging to the barbed tip.

"Quick! You two, help

up! Help

run! This lunatic will kill !"

Cursing wildly, he kept shouting at his companions.

But the two n who had co with him stood frozen like insects in winter, not daring to make a sound.

Fear gripped their throats.

They were terrified that even the slightest wrong word might provoke the burly man’s wrath. So they simply watched the scene unfold with cold, detached eyes.

The hunter, in particular, not only had no intention of helping, he was silently cursing the injured man’s entire bloodline in his heart.

He deeply regretted ever bringing this fool along.

Just monts ago he had warned him — warned him clearly that the burly man was not soone to provoke. Yet this pig-headed teammate, obsessed with saving face, had ignored the advice and even shouted insults loud enough for the whole wasteland to hear.

Now they were all dragged into trouble because of his stupidity.

Running away was no longer an option. They didn’t even dare breathe too loudly.

"What are you standing there for? Get

out of here!" the wounded man howled desperately. "If I die here, you won’t escape either!"

In truth, the hunter did feel a flicker of hesitation.

The man’s words weren’t entirely wrong.

But before he could make a decision, the burly man’s deep voice cut through the tense air.

"I’ll give you a chance. If you want to live... kill him, then follow . Otherwise, you’ll end up the sa way."

Silence fell.

The hunter stiffened, his mind wavering, feet rooted to the spot.

anwhile, the young man who had been trembling with fear monts earlier suddenly seed to make up his mind. Without another word, he tightened his grip on the machete in his hand and began walking forward.

"Hey... what are you doing?"

A chill ran down the injured man’s spine as he watched the youth approach.

"Don’t forget we’re on the sa side! They’re the outsiders... not us!"

Panic twisted his face as realization dawned.