Chapter 42: 42;UNWANTED PURSUER
The rocky expanse of the cliffs was shrouded in tension, broken only by the faint echo of distant battle cries and the occasional screech of formlings in combat. High above the battlefield, hidden in the jagged shadows of a secluded outcrop, D44 crouched with his entourage of loyal hunters. His eyes, dark and calculating, were fixed on the chaos unfolding below.
Leo stood in the middle of the bloodied battlefield, surrounded by the carnage of insectoid formlings he had already bested. His glowing blue eyes cut through the dust-laden air like beacons, defiant and resolute as he squared off against the remaining hordes.
D44 chuckled softly, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "He's doomed," he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with mockery.
One of the hunters crouched behind him, a lanky man whose face was pale with unease, glanced at him and whispered, "What are we even here for? I mean, look at him. If this keeps up, he might die of energy fatigue on his own."
The faint amusement on D44's face evaporated. His eyes narrowed as he turned sharply, grabbing the man by the collar of his worn leather armor. The movement was sudden and violent, catching the hunter off guard.
"Our mission," D44 hissed, his voice a dangerous whisper, "is to ensure one thing and one thing only: C66's death. Do you hear me?" His grip tightened, pulling the hunter closer. "No excuses. No distractions. No waiting for the universe to do our work for us. We,.. finish him."
The hunter swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Okay, okay, man. Got it," he stammered, his voice trembling.
D44's smirk returned, more of a grimace than a smile, as he released the hunter and shoved him back with a casual disdain. "Good. Then do your job and keep your mouth shut."
Without another word, D44 turned his attention back to the battlefield below. He crouched at the edge of the cliff, his dark eyes gleaming as he watched Leo's every move. "Come on, C66," he murmured, his tone almost playful. "Show me how much more you can bleed before you break."
Meanwhile, on a different battlefield not far away, the sound of snapping bones and shrill cries pierced the air. The scene was one of utter carnage. The crimson-stained dirt was littered with the mutilated remains of vermillion-level formlings, their bodies sprawled in grotesque, unnatural angles. In the center of the massacre stood Leone, her chest heaving as she wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.
Her face bore a fresh gash, a thin line of blood trickling down her cheek. She glared at the surviving formlings with a venomous fury. "You bastard," she snarled, her voice low and sharp. "You're going to pay for ruining my face."
She adjusted her grip on the whip coiled tightly in her hand, its barbed edges glinting in the dim light. The weapon was an extension of her wrath, and she wielded it with precision and ferocity.
The vermillion formlings snarled and lunged at her, their clawed limbs slashing through the air. Leone moved like lightning, her whip unfurling with a deafening *crack*. The first formling was caught mid-leap, the barbs tearing through its chest and sending it crashing into a jagged rock.
"Too slow," Leone spat, her voice dripping with disdain.
Another formling charged from her right, its elongated limbs slicing toward her head. Without missing a beat, she ducked low and swung her whip upward in a brutal arc. The barbed tip tore through the creature's throat, severing its head in a spray of green ichor.
"Pathetic," Leone growled as she straightened, her whip coiled and ready for the next attack.
The formlings hesitated, their glowing eyes flicking nervously between Leone and the remains of their fallen comrades. She smirked, a dangerous glint in her eye.
"What's the matter?" she taunted, taking a step forward. "Lost your nerve? I thought vermillion types were supposed to be tough."
Her words goaded them into action. The remaining formlings charged as one, their screams echoing across the cliffs. Leone's smirk widened.
"Big mistake."
She lashed out with her whip, the barbs slicing through flesh and chitin with ease. Each strike was precise, calculated, and devastating. One by one, the formlings fell, their bodies reduced to mangled heaps of blood and bone. The ground beneath Leone's feet became a slick, crimson pool as she dispatched the last of her attackers with a final, brutal strike.
When the chaos finally subsided, Leone stood victorious amidst the carnage. Her once-pristine armor was splattered with green ichor and crimson blood, but her expression was one of satisfaction.
"Now that," she said, wiping a streak of blood from her cheek, "is what you get for messing with me."
She surveyed the battlefield, her piercing gaze sweeping over the lifeless forms strewn about her. The ground was a flattened wasteland of crushed bones and shredded flesh, a testament to her overwhelming power.
Leone took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she calmed herself. Then, with a smirk, she turned her attention to the cliffs in the distance.
"Time to go hunt bigger prey," she said to herself, her tone almost casual. She flicked the blood from her whip before coiling it at her side. "These ones just weren't strong enough."
She stepped over the broken bodies in her path, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The crunch of bones beneath her boots was the only sound as she made her way across the battlefield, leaving behind a trail of destruction.
Back at the cliffs, D44 watched Leo's battle with growing frustration. Despite the overwhelming odds, Leo was still standing, still fighting. The young man's resilience was infuriating, a thorn in D44's side that refused to be plucked.
One of the hunters shifted uneasily beside him. "Should we—"
"Not yet," D44 interrupted, his tone sharp. His eyes never left Leo. "He'll tire soon. And when he does..." He trailed off, a cruel smile spreading across his face.
"Enjoy your last moments, C66," he muttered under his breath. "Because they're about to run out."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone