CHAPTER 155: RUN

Just as Darius was watching the resentment creatures fade into the fog one by one, his expression suddenly changed.

His brow furrowed. His gaze snapped to the depths of the mist, eyes narrowing with sharp instinct. Something was coming. Something wrong.

The shift in his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed.

After all, those gathered here were no strangers to war. Each one of them was battle-hardened—veterans of death and silence, attuned to danger like wolves in the wild.

They felt it too.

A subtle pressure. A crawling sensation on the back of the neck. An oppressive stillness, as if the air itself was bracing for something dreadful.

And then—

Felicia stiffened.

Her amethyst eyes narrowed sharply, and her voice came cold and clipped:

"Everyone stay alert. Something’s coming... I can sense it. A lot of them."

She was always the first to notice.

As someone whose very essence resonated with darkness and resentment, Felicia could hear the murmurs others couldn’t. The whispers beneath the fog.

No one openly responded to her warning.

But they didn’t need to.

In a synchronized movement born from instinct and experience, the group began to edge backward—silent retreat.

Rosary, the weakest among them, didn’t hesitate.

She moved first, her lithe frame disappearing toward the rear. Unlike the others, she was only Stage 2. She couldn’t afford hesitation.

And then—

A roar.

"ARGGHHH!"

It echoed through the trees like a war horn from hell, sharp and guttural, as though torn from the lungs of something that should not exist.

It was the kind of sound that made even veteran soldiers flinch.

The kind that made brave men scream like children.

"Run!"

No one knew who shouted it—maybe Darius, maybe none of them.

It didn’t matter.

In the very next heartbeat, they all turned and ran.

Even Felicia—who prided herself on hunting such creatures—fled without hesitation.

The air was thick with dread as the fog in the distance parted. And then—

It emerged.

A grotesque monstrosity, towering over twenty feet tall, surged toward them like a living nightmare.

Its body was a horrifying fusion of spider and lizard, its glossy carapace pulsating with sickly green veins. Sixteen razor-sharp legs carried it forward with terrifying speed, tearing through the underbrush like paper.

But it wasn’t the creature’s appearance that made them run.

It was its aura.

If Darius and Felicia’s presence was like the gentle ripple of a mountain stream, then this creature’s aura was a raging storm, a flood that threatened to drown everything it touched.

Suffocating. Crushing. Violent.

It didn’t just radiate power—it screamed dominance.

None of them had to ask.

None of them had to guess.

The answer was clear:

This wasn’t just a Stage 3 Rank 1 beast. It had transcended that threshold entirely.

And against that?

There was only one option.

Run—or die.

Even Darius, whose pride had never let him flee before, gritted his teeth and sprinted.

He didn’t look back.

He didn’t dare.

Because deep in his bones, he knew—

If he looked at it a moment too long,

he might never look away again.

The gap between each minor rank in Stage 3 was massive—a canyon that couldn’t be crossed through willpower alone.

To even think about challenging a higher-ranked enemy required one of two things:

A thousand-year prodigy, blessed by fate...

Or someone born with the blood of ancient beasts flowing through their veins.

Darius and Felicia were neither.

They were exceptional—yes. Hardened, deadly, honed by endless battles.

But not suicidal.

And worse still, the terrain surrounding them was unfamiliar, claustrophobic, and cloaked in fog. It was not a battlefield they could control.

So when death came roaring from the shadows, their first reaction was instinctive:

Run. Save your lives first—think later.

"Run, run, RUN!"

The shout echoed through the trees as the three of them sprinted like madmen, their forms becoming afterimages across the forest floor. Dozens of kilometers blurred beneath their feet in seconds.

But no matter how far they ran...

The monster kept closing the distance.

Step by step.

Second by second.

And now—

It was breathing down their necks.

Rosary could feel it—the raw, unfiltered killing intent washing over her spine like icy water.

Her face had turned ashen white, lips quivering, eyes wild with terror. And yet, instead of breaking down, she turned and screamed:

"What the hell are you two doing?!

Have some damn guts!

You’re both Stage 3 warriors—for the Empire’s sake!

DO SOMETHING, OR WE’RE ALL DEAD!"

Her voice cracked but rang out loud and clear, slicing through the sound of snapping branches and pounding feet.

For a moment, the words hung in the air—raw and desperate.

Felicia’s and Darius’ faces darkened.

They knew she wasn’t wrong.

But what could they do? Even if they joined forces, even if they used every hidden card at once... would it be enough?

Just then—

Darius slowed.

He took a deep breath, his lungs expanding like bellows, and exhaled sharply.

Something shifted in his gaze.

Then came his calm, indifferent voice, cold as iron:

"You two go ahead. I’ll hold this thing off."

There was no bravado in his tone.

No arrogance.

Just resolution.

The two women instinctively looked back.

Felicia’s lips parted—but she didn’t argue.

Rosary hesitated for only a breath longer.

Then they both nodded.

No questions. No tears.

They trusted him—and they knew better than to waste time.

In the next instant, their spiritual power surged—their speed skyrocketing as they poured everything into escape.

Until now, they had been holding back, conserving energy for a last resort.

But now that Darius had chosen to stand his ground, there was no more room for hesitation.

They vanished into the mist—like twin arrows loosed from a bow—leaving only one man behind.

Darius stood still.

The forest was quiet, save for the thunderous pounding of the monster’s sixteen limbs drawing ever closer.

He didn’t tremble.

He didn’t curse fate.

He simply raised his hand—slowly—and took one final breath to steel his soul.

"Come, then," he whispered, eyes blazing.

"Let’s see if you’re as strong as you look."

In the blink of an eye, Felicia was gone—her form swallowed by the distant mist.

Another moment passed.

Rosary vanished, too.

Darius didn’t look back.

He couldn’t afford to.

His heart pounded like a war drum as he faced the fast-approaching shadow. The air twisted around it like space itself was being compressed.

There was no time.

Clenching his jaw, he bit the inside of his cheek—hard—until the taste of blood flooded his mouth.

Then he burned it all.

The last drop of blood essence he had painstakingly cultivated over the years.

"Divine Transformation!" he roared.

In that instant—

The clouds shattered like glass overhead.

A single streak of lightning cracked down through the sky, illuminating the world in divine white.

Darius’s body dissolved into a cloud of blood, swirling like mist, before solidifying again.

But this time...

He was no longer human.

What stood in his place was a giant, over twenty feet tall, skin glowing with molten red lines and fists large enough to crush boulders into powder.

His eyes gleamed like twin suns.

And then—

"ROAAAAAR!"

The transformed titan let loose a furious howl that split the heavens.

With a savage lunge, he swung his fist, throwing all of his transformed power into the strike—

—

BOOM!!!

The punch connected with a thunderous shockwave. The earth beneath Darius’s feet split apart, creating a ravine that swallowed trees and rock alike. The blast of force sent shattered bark, stones, and wind flying in every direction.

The air screamed.

But—

"What...?" Darius gasped.

No recoil. No damage. No blood.

The monster stood there. Unmoving.

It had taken the full brunt of Darius’s Divine Transformation... without flinching.

Its grotesque face showed no fear. No surprise.

Only... amusement.

And then, without a sound, it raised one of its many legs.

With effortless grace, like swatting a fly, it swung the leg forward—

CRACK!

Darius didn’t even have time to block.

The strike sent his twenty-foot frame flying like a ragdoll.

He became a streak of red light, crashing through trees, mountains, and rivers—tens of kilometers away in the blink of an eye.

A deep scar was carved into the landscape, visible from the clouds above.

If seen from space, it would look like a giant had drawn a straight line across the terrain using a sword.

Still airborne, Darius struggled to orient himself. His vision spun.

The air smelled of ozone and blood.

Then he felt it again—

That creeping, icy sensation.

The same killing intent... even stronger now.

Before he could react—

WHAM!

Something struck his chest—simultaneously blunt and sharp, like a hammer covered in knives.

His ribs shattered.

Darius let out a gurgled cry as he was blasted back, crashing through another stretch of land like a meteor.

Another explosion.

Another mountain shattered.

Another dozen kilometers disappeared behind him.

Like a toy being tossed by an angry god, he was flung again—

And again—

And again.

CRACK!

With a final earth-shaking impact, Darius slammed into a jagged cliff face.

One of the monster’s claws followed and punched through his side, crushing flesh and bone in a sickening burst.

The sound of bones breaking echoed like thunder.

His Divine Form flickered—blood essence depleting, regeneration slowing.

But he was still alive.

Barely.

Which was, in itself, an achievement.

Any ordinary Stage 3 warrior...

Would’ve died from the first blow.