Chapitre 32: Avalon City
Beneath the inky cloak of night, leaves whispered under the paws of a low 4-star wolf pack. Their successful hunt yielded a hefty bounty - three herbivore carcasses for the pups and mothers back at the den. While individually considered only 4-star beasts, their true strength resided in their teamwork, allowing them to take down even powerful prey.
Their dark gray fur, practically black in the absence of moonlight, made them silent hunters. Leading the pack was a magnificent alpha, a 5-star force of nature. Silver streaks shimmered through his fur, and his size dwarfed the others. He exuded confidence, a silent vow to keep his pack safe.
Suddenly, the alpha froze. His storm-colored eyes narrowed to slits, scanning the darkness with his powerful 5-star senses. He dipped his head, sniffing the air for any hidden threats. Finding nothing amiss, he dismissed the fleeting unease and led them onward.
The disquiet gnawed at the alpha. His 5-star senses, usually attuned to the forest's whispers, detected an unnatural stillness. A low growl rumbled from his throat, echoing eerily in the oppressive silence.
The pack, their usual teamwork faltering, displayed unease. They sniffed the air, eyes flitting nervously through the dense foliage. A young wolf, barely a 2-star, whimpered and tucked himself closer to his mother's side. Weakness the alpha couldn't stomach now.
A twig snapped. A trivial sound, easily dismissed as wind, but the alpha's instincts screamed. He whirled around, muscles coiled, searching for the source. There, bathed in a sliver of moonlight, stood a figure at the clearing's edge. Human. But this wasn't ordinary.
Clad in dark leather that melded with the shadows, a longsword strapped across their back, the figure emanated a predator's cold calculation. But it was his eyes, those same eyes that flickered with arcane energy moments before, that sent shivers down the alpha's spine. Magic swordsman.
The alpha's growl escalated into a ferocious snarl, a warning and a desperate attempt to rally his pack. Before he could react, a blinding flash erupted, followed by the sickening crunch of bone. The seasoned 4-star wolf lay crumpled, a single, brutal slash severing his throat. Panic erupted. The pack scattered, their honed teamwork dissolving into primal fear.
Another flash, another thud. A young one, barely past puphood, yelped before falling silent. The figure cackled, a chilling sound that reverberated through the trees. Lighting magic that had coalesced moments before now ignited at his fingertips, launching a bolt of lightning towards a mother trying to shield her pups.
Fury ignited in the alpha's chest, a white-hot inferno fueled by grief and rage. He wouldn't let them fall without a fight. The alpha lunged, a whirlwind of fur and teeth, aiming for the throat of the singular threat, the magic swordsman who dared trespass on his territory.
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Blood dripped from my blade as I finished wiping down the last wolf. My mind whirred, calculating the meager mana their cores would offer. Disappointment gnawed at me.
Five weeks. That's how long it had been since felling the Obsidian Behemoth and reaching High Silver rank. Since then, the Amarion Rainforest had become my training ground. Beasts of all stripes fell to my blade, honing my swordsmanship and refining my control over magic. After all, a two-star wolf requires a different touch than a four-star monstrosity.
Pack hunting had become another focus, pushing my senses to their limit. Hundreds of kills later, my departure loomed. A triumphant grin stretched across my face. Six weeks. The jungle had been a crucible, forging me into something stronger, sharper.
Rachel might even find me a challenge now. Maybe even a threat, considering she was still fumbling with that bow. The thought sent a jolt of excitement through me. It was time to go meet my family in the Slatemark Empire now.
Frustration bubbled as powerful mana signatures pulsed closer. "Just a little peace and quiet before I leave, please?" I muttered, whirling around. A troop of Red-Bellied Orangutans, led by a pair of hulking 5-star alphas, loomed before me. These ranged attackers weren't pushovers in a brawl either.
"Guess it's target practice," I grinned, eyes flashing with a predator's glint. Flames erupted in my palms, coalescing into a searing lance. With a flick of my wrist, I launched the four-circle spell. The apes scattered, mostly avoiding the blast. One shrieked, a smoldering gash across its face, another missing an arm and half its torso. My attack ignited the leaves of the massive overhead tree, sending flames licking skyward.
The alphas roared, pounding their chests. Earth projectiles materialized in their palms, launched in a rapid barrage. This would have been a death sentence for the me who first entered this jungle. But not anymore. Dozens of projectiles whizzed by, near the speed of sound. My honed senses followed each one, predicting their trajectory, allowing me to weave through the volley and close the distance.
I slowed down my speed, acting as if I was tired to drop the alpha's guard. Then I struck.
[God Flash].
I used my strongest spell to instantly close the distance between us, my lightning clad sword swinging through the air as I killed the beast in one attack. These beasts defences were very low level.
Pathetic.
But they served a purpose. I needed to push the limits of my control, to feel the mana surge and bend to my will. I lunged at the remaining apes, a blur of controlled violence. One, a hulking 4-star male, swung a wild punch. I sidestepped with inhuman agility, my senses anticipating every move. My fist, imbued with a concentrated burst of one-circle lightning magic, slammed into his jaw. The orangutan crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The others scattered, their ranged attacks useless against my newfound speed. I became a whirlwind of precise violence, each strike laced with the perfect amount of magical power. A two-star youngster charged, fangs bared. A single, concentrated blast of wind magic sent it flying through the air, landing with a sickening thud.
Within minutes, the once vibrant clearing was a scene of carnage. The remaining orangutans lay broken and lifeless, testaments to my growing mastery of mana manipulation. Their deaths weren't about cruelty, but a brutal efficiency, a final test before I moved on.
It was time for me to meet my family in this world.
7:15 PM.
Stepping through the shimmering portal, I swapped the bustling streets of Redpine City for the heart of the Slatemark Empire: Avalon. This wasn't just any capital city; it was a titan of human achievement, a dazzling metropolis where fifty million souls thrummed with life.
Avalon was a vertical labyrinth of chrome and glass skyscrapers that pierced the clouds like needles. Its arteries were hyperloop tracks, translucent tubes that whooshed neon pods through the city at unimaginable speeds. Everywhere you looked, there were marvels of technology - holographic advertisements flickered on buildings, personal drones buzzed overhead, and sleek, self-driving cars glided along the streets.
I boarded a hyperloop pod, the sleek interior a stark contrast to the urban jungle outside. Choosing a window seat, I plugged in my earbuds and let the music wash over me. Yet, every second felt like an eternity. A strange yearning gnawed at me, an inexplicable urge to reach my destination.
Why meet people I'd never known? Weren't these strangers, not my blood? Doubt gnawed at me. Had fragments of the previous Arthur Nightingale, the man whose memories I now possessed, seeped into my soul? How much of him still lingered within me?
A fist clenched over my heart, mimicking the quickening pulse that flared whenever I delved deeper into Arthur's memories of his family. It ached, a dull throb that intensified with every unearthed detail. Images flooded my mind - scenes from Arthur's life with his family, a torrent of emotions threatening to burst the fragile dam I'd built.
Taking a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the tears. As I regained my composure, a new clarity emerged. Perhaps a sliver of Arthur remained, a faint echo within me. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Whatever the truth, I wouldn't let it dictate my path. The thought of being steered by a ghost was unsettling.
The train intercom crackled to life, announcing the imminent departure. Doors hissed shut, and with a gentle whoosh, the pod began to accelerate, propelling me towards my destination.
Exiting the station, I pulled out my phone, the GPS app a beacon in the unfamiliar cityscape. Count Chase's residence, my only lead, was just a red dot on a digital map. But with Avalon's intricate network of hyperloops and its efficient grid system, navigating this magnificent city wouldn't be a challenge.
Night had fallen, the crescent moon swallowed by a shroud of drifting clouds. Finally, I reached the city's noble district. Normally, gaining entry to these gated communities required an invitation, but my family, despite not being nobility themselves, resided within Count Chase's estate. Showing my resident certificate, I breezed past the vigilant guards and hopped into one of the self-driving cabs that zipped through the community.
My destination: a sprawling mansion unlike the sprawling estates one might find elsewhere. Avalon, after all, had precious little free land. Nonetheless, the residence was impressive. Count Chase's mansion, painted a pristine white, boasted two balconies and a sprawling, fenced-in garden. Lights flickered in the windows, a sign of life within.
Taking a deep breath, I approached the imposing wooden gate guarded by two knights. This was it. Time to meet my new parents.
Recognition dawned on the guards' faces. "You're finally home, Arthur!" one boomed. "Your parents have been waiting!"
"Darol, Caroline," I greeted, their names echoing from Arthur's memories. We exchanged pleasantries, them remarking on how I'd grown, before they ushered me inside. As I crossed the threshold, a warm voice filled the air, "Welcome home, Arthur!"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone