Chapter 175: You Won’t believe who I just saw
"Is that a Great Abomination?!! What the hell? Why do I have so much bad luck?"
The Jackal’s voice cracked as he clung tightly to Evil Spirit Lucas, his body shaking against the rush of wind tearing past them.
Fear. Pure, unfiltered fear.
And honestly? It wasn’t misplaced.
A Great Abomination.
Just hearing those words was enough to send a stronghold into full panic. Guards on the walls, evacuation orders, ergency signals fired into the sky. That was the kind of thing a Great Abomination did just by existing near a settlent.
A lot of people operated under the assumption that S-rank was directly proportional to a Great Abomination. Like if you had enough S-ranks, you could put one down.
That was wrong.
That wasn’t even close to right.
It was like handing a man his bare hands and telling him to fight a bear. No weapons. No armor. Just skin and bone against sothing that shouldn’t be possible. Now factor in that they were a group of B-ranks and A-ranks?
They didn’t stand a single chance.
Not one.
"It’s not a Great Abomination."
Guilliman’s voice cut through the wind, steady and flat.
His eyes had drifted back toward the beast the mont the Jackal scread. He studied it without slowing down, reading it the sa way he’d learned to read things in the nightmare desert. Size. Movent. The weight of its presence in the air around them.
He had faced a Great Abomination before.
He had risked everything against one and walked away.
He rembered what that felt like. The dread that pressed down on you before you even saw it clearly. The way the air changed around a true Great Abomination, like the world itself wanted you to run.
This wasn’t that.
This thing was on the edge of it. Right on the crux of crossing that line.
But it hadn’t crossed yet.
It was still far from it.
"It’s drawing too much attention," Evil Spirit Lucas said, his voice tight but controlled. His eyes swept the sky ahead, calculating fast. "We should split up. Furnace Head, take Poison Lilly and go left. I’ll go right. Soul King keeps going straight."
Nobody argued.
The plan made sense. Brutal, maybe. But sense.
Both the Jackal and Poison Lilly couldn’t fly on their own. Dead weight in a chase like this. Not because they were weak on the ground, but up here, moving at this speed, they needed to be carried. And carrying them ant slowing down.
If one pair could peel off and lose the beast’s attention, they’d have a better shot at surviving. The beast couldn’t split focus forever.
The risk was obvious. Once you separated, there was no guarantee the other group ca back.
50-50 at best.
"Let’s do it."
Eric nodded once and grabbed Poison Lilly, pulling her close, then banked hard to the left without hesitation.
—whoosh
A beat later, Evil Spirit Lucas dropped right, taking the Jackal with him.
And Guilliman?
He kept going straight.
But slower.
Visibly, deliberately slower.
The beast noticed imdiately.
Its massive head swung toward the figure that hadn’t scattered. The one still in front of it. Getting closer with every second. A flicker of sothing ran through its eyes, sothing between focus and hunger.
It didn’t need to choose between three targets anymore.
There was only one.
’It’s injured.’
Guilliman watched the beast bear down on him and felt the familiar cold settle into his chest. Not fear. Clarity.
’Killing this will get
a good boost.’
He rolled his grip on the spear in his hand and started pushing energy through the shaft. Slow at first, then building, until the entire weapon was humming with condensed force.
He didn’t stop there.
A serpent appeared.
It coiled around him silently, winding its massive form along his arm and spine, scales flickering with a cold light as its energy bled directly into the spear.
Those years in the nightmare desert had taught him exactly one thing that mattered.
If you’re going to strike, strike to kill.
—boom
The spear launched forward.
A single beam of compressed light and serpent energy scread across the sky toward the beast.
The beast didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.
A human strike? It had swallowed worse. It kept closing the gap, massive body cutting through the air, certain.
200 ters.
Then its eyes changed.
Sothing in the beam registered. Sothing wrong. Sothing that didn’t match what its body was telling it to expect.
But by then it was already too late to move.
The beam punched through its arm and kept going, tearing a clean hole straight through flesh and bone.
—rwar?!!
The sound it made wasn’t rage.
It was shock.
It reeled in the air, the pain arriving a half second after the damage, flooding in all at once. A sound crawled out of its throat, sothing between a growl and a whimper.
That hadn’t been possible. One strike from a human shouldn’t have been able to do that.
It barely had ti to process it.
—boom
—boom
Two more beams. Back to back. Fired before it could even steady itself.
It caught one on the shoulder, the impact spinning it sideways. The second ca in low and it twisted just enough to avoid it, but the movent was desperate, sloppy.
It turned.
And ran.
"Not so fast."
Guilliman didn’t even blink.
He pushed forward, keeping pace, sending out blast after blast in tight succession. Each one forced the beast to move, to spend energy dodging, to slow down. He wasn’t just chasing it. He was breaking it down while he chased it.
This was the real reason he was here in Wind Devil Valley.
The gap between him and a true A-rank wasn’t a technique problem or a strength problem. It was a resource problem. Beasts to kill. Points to collect. Ground to cover.
He was here to close that gap as fast as possible.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Below, a golden streak of light had gone still.
Jemie floated in place, eyes lifted to the sky, watching in silence as the figure covered in ravens hamred away at a near-Great Abomination like it was a training exercise.
His mouth didn’t open.
He just watched.
The beast tried to flee twice. Both tis Guilliman cut off the angle and punished it for trying. thodical. Relentless. No wasted movent.
Then it dropped.
The body hit the ground sowhere beyond the ridge with a distant crash that shook the air.
And the man in ravens didn’t wait. He didn’t land. Didn’t look around.
He just flew over the hill and disappeared.
"That...."
Jemie shot toward the corpse, landing beside it and scanning it fast. Dead. Confird.
He looked up.
Gone.
"Fucker!!"
He turned and pushed back toward the carriage at full speed.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,
"Why are you back?"
Victoria’s voice carried a trace of real confusion.
She had been preparing to engage. Her posture said it. Her hands said it. She had felt the abomination’s pressure from here and was already moving to intercept.
And now her scout was standing in front of her empty-handed.
Jemie exhaled once.
"You won’t believe who I just saw."
His voice was calm. But the look on his face wasn’t.????????????????????????????????
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