章節 69: Chapter 67: Who the hell is...?
As Njoro screamed for everyone to run, the demon roared in response—a deep, guttural sound that seemed to shake the very walls of the storage unit. A sudden gunshot rang out, and a bullet struck the demon's golden armor from behind, the impact barely making it flinch. Slowly, the creature turned toward its attacker—Nguvu. The smuggling leader, drenched in blood and trembling, had managed to raise his rifle in a desperate bid to survive. But as the demon's glowing eyes locked onto him, Nguvu's courage melted away. He tried to limp backward, his gun shaking in his hands, but it was too late.
The demon leaped at Nguvu with inhuman speed, swatting the rifle out of his hands before plunging its fist straight through his chest. Nguvu's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening in a silent scream as blood gushed from the mortal wound. The smuggling leader crumpled to the ground, lifeless, his body hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
Njoro and the others watched in horror, frozen for a moment, before the primal instinct to survive took over. "Run!" Njoro hissed, pushing his wife and daughter toward the exit as the others followed suit. The demon, its fist still embedded in Nguvu's corpse, tilted its head toward them, letting out a wet, gurgling noise that echoed in the room. Slowly, it began to turn, ready to claim its next victims.
Njoro, clutching the machete in his trembling hands, felt the cold grip of fear paralyze him. Around him, a few of the other men, equally terrified, shakily held up their makeshift weapons, knowing it would be futile against the monster. Their eyes locked onto the demon, which now crouched, preparing to pounce.
Suddenly, with a deafening crash, something barreled into the demon from behind with incredible force, sending it hurtling across the room and slamming into the far wall. The impact shook the building, and Njoro's eyes widened in shock. His grip tightened around the machete as he turned toward the source of the attack.
It was Mwangi.
But something was wrong. Mwangi's eyes, once dark brown, now glowed with an eerie blue light, and his face was set in almost emotionless expression. He stood there, breathing hard, his gaze fixed on the demon struggling to rise.
"Mwangi?" Njoro called out, his voice shaky with disbelief. His friend had been missing moments ago—how was he here now, and how had he knocked the demon across the room? "What's going on?"
Mwangi turned his head slowly toward Njoro, his eyes still glowing. "Get out. Now," he said, his voice firm, calm, but strange—unlike Mwangi's usual tone.
The demon let out another monstrous gurgle as it rose to its feet, its wings—plated in gold armor and covered in black flesh streaked with green veins—unfolding from its back. It stared down at Mwangi and the rest of the villagers with murderous intent.
"There's no time," Mwangi said, his voice growing more urgent. "Get them out of here. Now!"
Before Njoro could respond, the demon lunged forward. But Mwangi moved faster, dodging to the side and striking the demon's throat with a brutal punch. The force sent the demon tumbling, crashing into the floor. But Mwangi stumbled back, clutching his right arm, which hung limply at his side—clearly broken.
'Hmph… only this much…' Mwangi thought, glancing at his arm, his brow furrowing in frustration. He looked over at Njoro, who stood frozen in shock. "Move!" Mwangi shouted, snapping Njoro out of his daze. "We need to go before it gets back up!"
Njoro nodded and grabbed his daughter, running toward the exit with the others as the demon rose once again, this time flapping its massive wings and flying toward them. They burst out of the shed, the cool night air hitting them as they ran through the jungle, their hearts pounding in their chests.
But before they could get far, Mwangi collapsed, falling face-first into the dirt. Njoro skidded to a halt, panic flooding his veins. "Mwangi! Mwangi, get up!" he shouted, shaking his friend, but Mwangi didn't respond. Njoro looked back, his blood running cold as he saw the demon swooping toward them, its hand outstretched.
Just as it was about to reach them, something slammed into the demon like a missile from behind, pinning it to the ground with immense force. The earth around them trembled as rocks and debris flew into the air. Njoro shielded his daughter with his body, squinting through the dust and debris.
When the dust cleared, Njoro gasped in disbelief. The demon was impaled by a black rod, its body thrashing weakly as blood poured from its wounds. The rod shimmered in the moonlight, almost as if it were absorbing the light itself. The demon thrashed and struggled against the rod with gurgling sound trying to get free, its body pinned to the ground.
"Take your friend and leave. Now."
Njoro whipped around at the sound of the voice. Standing behind them was a boy—no older than a teenager—his pale skin glowing faintly in the moonlight. His white hair fluttered in the breeze, and he wore a strange, white outfit with a green strap running from his waist to his shoulder. His eyes, pale and milky white, stared down at them from above.
"Wh—who are you?" Njoro stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The boy, glanced down at Mwangi with a look of mild regret. "My apologies for your friend. I thought he could handle me piloting his body for a while, but…" He trailed off, his eyes flickering with a strange emotion before he suddenly vanished from sight.
Njoro blinked in shock, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. His heart pounded in his chest. One moment the boy was there, and the next, he was gone. But then, just as suddenly, Toneri appeared beside Mwangi, kneeling down to touch his friend's arm. As his hand brushed over Mwangi's skin, the wounds on Mwangi's body began to heal, the broken bones snapping back into place.
"Go," Toneri said again, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Njoro stared in disbelief as Mwangi stirred, blinking his eyes open in confusion. "What's… what's going on?" Mwangi muttered, struggling to sit up.
Njoro grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. "We have to leave. Now!"
Without another word, they turned and ran, leaving Toneri behind with the now-still struggling demon.
Toneri stood there, his pale, milky-white eyes fixed on the demon that writhed and gurgled in agony. It struggled desperately against the black rod impaled through its chest, golden armor slick with its own dark blood, which oozed from the wound. The demon's wings twitched and flapped weakly, as if trying to lift itself off the ground, but the force pinning it down was too strong. The low, guttural sounds it emitted were barely audible over the rustling leaves and distant cries of panicked villagers.
'Another one,' Toneri thought, his gaze hardening. His eyes fell on the symbol etched into the demon's upper chest armor in red—the same ominous omega symbol he had seen carved into another identical demon's armor similar to this one in South Africa just two days ago.
'The same mark... Who is sending these creatures?'
Toneri stepped closer to the demon, his white robes fluttering softly in the wind, illuminated by the pale moonlight. The demon gurgled again, weakly lifting its clawed hand as if to swipe at him, but it was clear that its strength was failing. It could barely move.
Raising his arm, Toneri summoned a strange object into his hand. A golden and black box materialized, pulsating with life as it appeared, with a red core and organic green veins that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the demon's struggling breaths. The veins looked eerily similar to the ones on the dark flesh of the demon in front of him.
Toneri studied the box for a moment before turning his attention back to the creature. "You're not from this world, are you?" he murmured, his voice calm but with an undertone of curiosity. The demon gurgled in response as if it could understand, but it remained silent. Its body jerked once more, a fresh spurt of blood pouring out from around the black rod pinning it to the earth.
Toneri stepped closer, kneeling beside the creature, his cold gaze locking onto its fading eyes. "Who sent you? And what do you want?"
The demon gurgled again, this time its voice raspier, weaker, as its life force slowly drained. Toneri narrowed his eyes and placed the golden and black box on the demon's chest, just above the omega symbol. As it made contact, the veins in the box began to glow brighter, as if reacting to the proximity of the demon's energy.
"I see…" Toneri whispered, sensing something deeper as he connected the box to the demon. He could feel the essence of its power, its origins from beyond this realm. Yet, the demon was bound to something even more sinister, something that lay far beyond this world's understanding.
Just as Toneri stood up, he heard a strained, gurgling sound from the demon. It rasped a single word, "For... ar...id…"
Toneri's eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked, his voice a low growl.
The demon repeated, this time even weaker, "For... Darkseid…"
Toneri's expression darkened. The demon he encountered in South Africa had uttered that exact same phrase. The puzzle pieces were falling into place, but the picture they were forming was not one he liked.
"No, you don't," Toneri hissed, realizing what was about to happen. He extended his arm, chakra surging as he attempted to suppress the demon's final action. But it was too late.
The demon's body convulsed, veins bulging grotesquely under its skin, golden armor cracking as the creature's power spiraled out of control. Then, with a deafening roar, the demon exploded, a shockwave ripping through the air, sending debris and dust flying in every direction.
For several moments, the Plantation seemed to tremble from the force of the blast. Trees swayed violently, the earth shook, and the distant sounds of the village grew faint in the chaos.
As the dust began to settle, Toneri was revealed standing exactly where he had been before the explosion. His white robes were immaculate, untouched by the blast, not a single spec of dust marring his appearance. His face was impassive, betraying no emotion, though his pale eyes held a flicker of annoyance.
He sighed softly, shaking his head. 'Who the hell is Darkseid?' he thought, frustration building within him. This was the second time one of these creatures had invoked that name before death. Darkseid.
Toneri glanced down at the smoldering remnants of the demon, nothing left but charred armor and a faint echo of its energy in the air. 'I need more information…' he mused.
Toneri turned and began walking away. His mission had just become far more complicated. And whoever this Darkseid was, it was clear that the threat was only beginning.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票