Ch 4

  The atmosphere around us didn't just change; it disintegrated. A suffocating pressure descended upon the fields, as if the sky itself had turned into lead. My gaze was locked on the Rift, barely a hundred meters away. My heart hammered against my ribs with such violence that it felt like it would burst through my chest.

  We stood frozen, thirty-five souls paralyzed by the absolute certainty that whatever was coming next would make the previous slaughter look like child's play.

  Suddenly, a long, jagged, and obsidian-sharp tip emerged from the void. Then, a massive paw followed—a clawed monstrosity as large as a grown man's torso. My breath hitched, my pulse stuttering to a halt.

  When that heavy, clawed limb slammed into the 'iron-hard' earth, the ground didn't just crack; it surrendered. The impact site turned into a pool of bubbling, molten glass, thick plumes of black, toxic smoke hissing into the air. Slowly, the rest of the nightmare dragged itself into our world. As the full silhouette emerged from the Rift, it felt as if our very souls were being stripped from our bodies.

  It stood seven feet tall at the shoulder—a gargantuan, grotesque fusion of a lion’s primal power and a wolf’s predatory cunning. Around its neck was no ordinary mane; it was a crown of jagged, glowing red spikes that flickered like dying stars, as if it had been baptized in a sea of liquid fire.

  Behind it lashed a four-foot-thick tail of pure, pressurized magma, dripping incandescent droplets that ignited the earth with every twitch. Its skin was not flesh, but tectonic plates of volcanic stone, glowing from within as the molten blood of a dying sun pulsed through its veins.

  I stared at the System window, and for the first time, I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. This was a Rank-C creature. I didn’t know exactly how many levels it stood above us, but the sheer weight of its presence told me everything I needed to know: it was a harbinger of absolute death.

  The Hell-Fire Stalker fixed its glowing gaze upon us. My Intuition wasn’t just pulsing anymore; it was screaming inside my skull, a frantic, deafening siren that repeated one single command: RUN. You cannot survive this. Run before you are turned to ash.

  But what made it truly terrifying was its stillness. Unlike the mindless hounds of the first wave, it didn't charge blindly. It stood there, calculating, watching us with a cold, predatory patience. It was evaluating its prey.

  Then, movement stirred within the black depths of the Rift, and our dread transformed into pure, unadulterated horror. We watched, paralyzed, as a second Hell-Fire Stalker dragged itself out of the void. Our hope of survival vanished. Facing one Rank-C commander was a nightmare; facing two was a death sentence.

  The second Stalker looked at the first, emitting a low, vibrating growl—a guttural language of the abyss. Then, it turned its molten head toward the Market District. I realized with a jolt of terror that they were coordinating. They were dividing the spoils of war.

  But the nightmare didn't end there. Behind them, the Rift began to hemorrhage once more. Out stepped the Cinder-Hounds, but they were nothing like the ones we had just killed. These were larger, their bodies encased in darker, reinforced obsidian shells, their eyes burning with a controlled, lethal flame.

  Twenty-four of these elite killers emerged, splitting into two squads of twelve. They took their positions behind the two Stalkers like disciplined soldiers waiting for a general’s command.

  The battlefield was now a stage for our execution. One commander stood before us, blocking our path, while the other prepared to turn our village market into a funeral pyre. We were twenty-five humans and a handful of animals, standing against the elite vanguard of the Searing Maw. The air grew thin, the oxygen siphoned by their presence, leaving us gasping in the shadow of our own extinction.

  I watched as the second Hell-Fire Stalker began its heavy, predatory trek toward the Market District, its twelve elite Cinder-Hounds trailing behind it like loyal shadows of death. A small, bitter sense of relief washed over me; at the very least, we wouldn't have to face both calamities simultaneously.

  But that relief was instantly shattered by the sounds behind me. The villagers, already pushed to their mental limits, broke into a chorus of hysterical screams. The sight of the second commander was the final straw.

  Panic, a poison far more lethal than any blade, swept through the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people turn and sprint toward the village in a blind frenzy. I couldn't stop them. I knew that the fear of death was the ultimate primal force, but they were fools. If we didn't slay these creatures here, they would hunt us down one by one until the entire valley was a graveyard. It was exactly as the System had warned: Kill or be Killed.

  In front of us, the twelve Rank D+ Elite Cinder-Hounds lowered their snouts, sniffing the air. They were catching the scent of the ash—the remains of their fallen kin. Their eyes flared with a murderous, vengeful heat. They began to advance, a low, guttural growl vibrating in their chests, but a single, resonant bark from their Leader froze them in their tracks. The discipline was terrifying.

  I watched the Hell-Fire Stalker closely. The creature took a massive, deep breath, siphoning the oxygen from the surrounding air. As the gas hit its internal furnace, the mane of jagged spikes around its neck ignited with blinding intensity. Its magma-thick tail began to lash with renewed violence.

  The System was right—it was consuming the very air we needed to breathe to fuel its internal fire. The heat radiating from its body became so extreme that the Air around it began to distort, shimmering and rippling like the air above a sun-scorched highway in the peak of summer. The monster was literally warping reality with its temperature.

  "Everyone, stay alert!" I roared, my voice straining against the superheated wind. "Rocky, move to the front and anchor the defense! Ankit, prepare your spear for a long-range strike! Use everything you have—activate your Ultimate Abilities now! Do not hold back, or we will not survive the next minute!"

  I reached into my string, my fingers brushing against the cold, liquid surface of a Tier-2 Water Astra. As I nocked the shaft, the air felt like it was boiling in my lungs. The predator was ready, and so was I.

  The Hell-Fire Stalker took a single, deliberate step toward us. That one movement carried such immense weight it felt like the footfall of a god of death. It let out a resonant, vibrating growl—a command. Instantly, six Rank-D+ Elite Cinder-Hounds broke into a sprint, fanning out into a disciplined semi-circle formation. Their speed was nightmarish, far surpassing the mindless frenzy of the previous wave.

  I locked my gaze on the lead hound and loosed a Tier-2 Water Astra. It streaked through the air with lethal intent, but just as it was about to connect, the elite hound twitched with unnatural reflexes. It performed a sharp, mid-air dodge, the astra whistling harmlessly past its obsidian flank. My heart plummeted. These weren't just monsters anymore; they were trained hunters.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  "They're too fast!" I shouted to the group.

  I immediately reached for a Tier-2 Air Astra. I couldn't afford to miss again. I pushed the bow into a 40% Resonance state with an air chakra tattoo, feeling the familiar pull on my prana.

  [REMAINING HUMAN PRANA: 67.5%]

  This time, the Ultimate Air Astra moved with such velocity that it was nothing but a blur of distorted air. The Elite Hound didn't even have time to blink before the shaft impaled its throat. A microsecond later, a blinding white light fractured through its hide.

  BOOM!

  The explosion was significantly more violent than the standard hounds, the shockwave rattling my very teeth.

  I glanced at Rocky. He swung his blade, unleashing an Air Slash at the approaching pack, but the hounds moved with terrifying synchronization, ducking and weaving under the blade-wave as if they could predict the trajectory.

  Gritting my teeth, I nocked a Tier-2 Water Astra. I didn't have time for a full charge, so I pushed it to a quick 20% Resonance. The remaining hounds had already closed the gap to forty meters—their heat was becoming unbearable, a wall of scorching air that threatened to singe my lungs. If I didn't drop them now, Rocky's line would be overrun in seconds.

  I loosed another Water Astra, and once again, the Elite Hound attempted to dodge. However, because the distance had closed significantly, it couldn't fully escape the trajectory. The astra struck its foreleg, the Water Prana drenching the limb instantly. The creature collapsed to the ground, its mobility neutralized, though it didn't detonate yet.

  [REMAINING HUMAN PRANA: 65.75%]

  In a blur of motion, Ankit hurled his spear with pinpoint accuracy. It struck a hound thirty meters away. The resulting explosion was massive—far larger than anything we had seen from the standard Rank-D pack.

  I watched Rocky step forward, his stance wide as he braced his shield. I could see the glow of his Earth Prana intensifying; he was preparing to absorb a massive amount of damage. He unleashed a crescent Air Slash that caught one of the approaching hounds. Instead of retreating, the beast snarled and sprinted directly at Rocky, seemingly intent on a suicidal detonation.

  When the hound was barely four meters away, Rocky unleashed a second slash, triggering the beast’s explosion prematurely. A violent white light engulfed the front line, followed by a blast significantly more powerful than the previous ones. Rocky was thrown back two meters, his feet carving deep furrows in the iron-hard earth, but he held his ground. I realized then that he had activated his Ultimate Defense technique; without it, he would have been tossed through the air like a ragdoll.

  The searing heat from the blast washed over our faces, singeing the air in our lungs.

  To my right, Ankit’s spear whistled through the air as it returned to his hand. Simultaneously, Maya hurled her heavy Gada with bone-shattering force. It connected with a Cinder-Hound five meters away, triggering an immediate blast that sent Maya skidding back from the sheer shockwave. Another hound lunged out of the smoke, but Rocky met it head-on with his Ultimate Shield, absorbing the impact and crushing the creature beneath his defensive aura.

  I didn't let the injured hound suffer. I drew a Tier-2 Astra and loosed it at the beast struggling twenty meters away. It vanished in a violent white detonation, leaving nothing but scorched earth behind.

  "System!" I commanded mentally, not wasting a single second. "Put my free point into the Earth Chakra."

  I would need that extra defense for what was coming.

  I looked back at the Hell-Fire Stalker. It was advancing with a terrifyingly calm pace, almost as if it were taking a leisurely stroll through a garden of corpses. It was now barely 100 meters away. Its yellow, feline eyes held no malice—only a profound contempt. To this Rank-C commander, we weren't warriors; we were ants to be crushed at its convenience. It had only sent the six elite hounds to test our limits, to see how we would scream.

  As it drew closer, the ambient temperature spiked. Every breath felt like inhaling molten lead, and my lungs began to ache with the effort of siphoning oxygen from the scorched air. Suddenly, a voice broke through the heat—it was my Uncle. His voice was trembling with a mix of terror and absolute resolve.

  "Amit... we have to end this now!" he cried out, his voice vibrating with a jagged edge.

  I watched in shock as he poured every ounce of his Prana/life force into his spear. I could tell by the blinding intensity of the weapon that he had pushed past the 120% power increase threshold. The spear ignited with a volatile mix of deep crimson and dusty green—a desperate fusion of Earth and Air Prana.

  His veins bulged beneath his skin, looking as though they might burst, and a low grunt of agony escaped his lips. He took a three-meter sprint, his boots melting the iron-grass, and with a guttural roar, he hurled the spear toward the Stalker. The force of the throw was so immense that he collapsed backward, his body drained of all energy. The spear tore through the air with a sonic crack, aimed straight for the Commander's heart

  The spear streaked through the air like a divine bolt, carrying the collective hope of everyone left alive. It moved with such velocity that I truly believed, for a fraction of a second, that it would end the monster in a single strike. The Hell-Fire Stalker watched the projectile close the distance. It didn't flinch. Instead, it shifted its gaze back to us, its yellow eyes narrowing as if to mock us, asking: "Is this the best your kind can do?"

  What happened next was pure horror. Just as the spear was inches from the Commander’s chest, the Stalker moved with a speed that defied its massive size. It performed a sharp, lateral dodge and swung its four-foot magma tail like a heavy obsidian whip.

  BOOM!

  The impact was thunderous. The Stalker’s tail didn't just block the spear; it redirected the entire force of my Uncle’s 120% Resonance. The spear hissed past the Commander’s shoulder and struck the ground behind it, erupting in a massive explosion that shook the very foundation of the field.

  The dust cleared, and the Leader stood there, completely unscathed. It looked at us with profound indifference, as if we were nothing more than ants beneath its burning paws. Then, with a low, vibrating growl, the remaining six Elite Cinder-Hounds began their advance. They moved in a perfect semi-circle formation, fanning out in a disciplined military march that was far more terrifying than a chaotic charge.

  I couldn't afford to hesitate. My Uncle was down, and the elite guard was closing in. I reached for a Tier-2 Water Astra and forced my bow into an immediate, high-output resonance. I didn't stop at a safe level; I pushed the [Chakra Tattoo Resonance] to a flat 100% Resonance with water chakra tattoo.

  [REMAINING HUMAN PRANA: 57%]

  The blue light of the Water Prana was so intense it began to singe my fingertips, the bow vibrating with a high-pitched scream. At 57% Prana, I was entering the danger zone, but I had to break their formation before the Stalker decided to join the hunt.

  I could feel my hands trembling. There was no use denying it anymore—I was terrified. The sheer aura of the monster was enough to paralyze a normal man, but I forced my fingers to hold steady. I knew that if I didn't fight, I would die anyway. Standing still was a death sentence; fighting was a slim chance at survival. I chose the latter.

  I released the string. My Ultimate Tier-2 Water Astra tore through the air, leaving a long, whistling trail of white steam behind it due to the friction against the superheated atmosphere. It looked like a blue streak of lightning aimed directly at the Commander’s throat.

  The Hell-Fire Stalker didn't dodge this time. It stood its ground like an immovable volcanic mountain. As the astra reached its strike zone, the beast simply raised its massive, clawed paw and swiped at the projectile as if swatting a fly.

  BOOM!

  The high-pressure Water Prana within the astra detonated upon contact with the beast's molten limb. A violent eruption of scalding steam hissed into the air, creating a dense white fog that momentarily blinded everyone on the field. It was a collision of opposing elements—the cold fury of the water meeting the primordial heat of the Maw.

  When the steam finally cleared, I gasped at the sight. The Stalker’s paw, which had been glowing with the brilliance of liquid lava just moments ago, had turned jet black. My Water Prana had successfully extinguished the fire in that limb, flash-cooling the molten rock into brittle, dark Obsidian.

  For the first time, the invincible commander had taken a visible wound. It stared at its blackened, smoking paw for a second, and then its eyes—now burning with a pure, unadulterated rage—snapped back to mine. I was no longer an ant to be crushed; I was an irritant that needed to be eradicated.