Bermuda Chapter 94

The scattered, acrid smoke lingered again, stinging his eyes. Nevertheless, Leonardo silently gazed at Hugo without blinking once.

This person was—how should he put it... really strange.

Does he even know what it ans to wait?

He had a knack for rendering people speechless.

His waiting and his own waiting differed in their desperation and weight as much as his trust and his own trust did.

Even though it felt like deception, he foolishly wanted to believe again—either because this man’s gaze and voice gave him enough confidence to trust his words, or because he himself was truly a fool. It had to be one of the two.

Or perhaps both.

While it amazed him that he could speak like that to him, a defensive thought lingered—that he would never fully understand his position as much as Leonardo had hoped.

Leonardo tightly closed his stinging eyes, then opened them again. His head felt numb. Whenever complex thoughts and emotions rushed in all at once and hit their limit, his mind would turn hazy—and that was exactly what was happening now. It was worse, perhaps, because he hadn’t been sleeping properly lately.

Because of that, his lips were cracked, and swallowing felt uncomfortable, maybe because his throat was swollen. Swallowing dryly, Leonardo slightly parted his lips to let out a voice, if only to ease that discomfort.

“You—”

Boom—!

At that mont, a deafening sound reverberated, shaking the ground beneath where the two stood.

****

About fifteen minutes before the roar, sowhere along the border between the eastern and southern sectors of the Elder Millie Peninsula.

So mbers of the 9th Battalion of the Council’s Southern Branch were wandering across a vast ruin. The heavy downpour of the past several days had washed away the piled volcanic ash, revealing much of the hidden site.

The saturated ground had turned into a swamp where soil, ash, and tangled grass roots swallowed their feet. The mbers trudged through it, patrolling the ruins for hidden monsters or people and leaving markers behind.

Normally, ruined buildings tended to have straight paths and angular structures, but here the architecture curved.

They were simple in form, roughly stacked from flat stones, yet for curved buildings constructed several centuries ago, they were remarkably sophisticated.

Of course, none of them stood tall, and thick tree roots and grasses covered their surfaces as if trying to swallow them whole, leaving most far from intact.

Still, they stood on raised platforms—stone steps piled high above swamp level—and judging from the openings for windows and doors, this had clearly been a developed civilization.

The abandoned hosteads, devoid of people and marked by the wear of countless years, exuded a quiet eeriness, like forsaken lands.

As they walked along that strange, desolate path, the platoon leader spotted a weathered stone statue and stopped, staring as if entranced. He realized he had passed several statues of a similar shape earlier.

The statue, a woman, sohow looked lonely. Facing those carved, empty eyes, it felt as though they might draw him in.

A damp, humid wind blew, and only the rustle of leaves reached his ears—until soone called from afar.

“Platoon Leader, please take a look at this!”

Shaking himself from his reverie, he turned toward the voice and approached.

It was a spot where a pillar had been raised between heaps of stone to form an entrance. Four mbers, including the caller, were there, peering inside with conjured light. The platoon leader ca closer.

“What is it?”

“Isn’t this... a monster’s nest?”

Peering inside, he saw large bluish-white eggs clumped together, wrapped in sticky, slimy filants. So were cracked, the contents gone. His casual expression hardened.

“This... Tsk. Too open to be a proper monster’s nest. And the eggs are far too exposed.”

“We thought it was strange too—that’s why we called you.”

A faint steam rose from the broken shells, as if sothing had only just hatched.

“Hasn’t it been long since they hatched?”

“Seems so.”

“If this were a real nest, the adults would have been guarding it until the mont of hatching—and it would be deep inside, sowhere hard to reach. Feels more like the eggs were moved here before hatching.”

“They move eggs outside the nest? Isn’t the nest safest?”

“I don’t know why... but this doesn’t seem like a place for a nest.”

While they examined the scene—unlike anything they’d seen before—another mber compared the eggs’ appearance to entries in his notebook.

“None of the known monsters lay eggs like these.”

One of the n who’d been speaking with the platoon leader added, “Ah, I heard that among the mutants reported a few days ago, avian and reptilian types were also spotted. No eggs or young at the ti, but with mutant sightings on the rise, these could be from unknown adults.”

“Then high chance they’re mutant eggs. But no point in guessing—let’s call the expedition team. Who’s got the radio?”

“You do, Platoon Leader.”

“...Oh, damn—fine, I’ll do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

He stepped back from the pillar, scratching his head as he tried the radio. No answer—likely too far for the signal to reach.

“Damn it... not working again.”

Still holding the radio, he glanced around idly—and realized one man was missing. Except for the three inside with him, the other was nowhere in sight. Frowning, he asked over his shoulder,

“Hey, where’s Dylan?”

“Pardon?”

The others quickly checked and confird it—one man was gone. They hurried outside to look around.

“He was here just a mont ago.”

“So where is he now?”

Sensing trouble, the platoon leader lowered the radio, his voice going cold. Two mbers scrambled atop the structure to search, but Dylan had vanished without a trace.

The damp wind returned, carrying with it a faint tallic tang. The leader’s hand slid to his sword.

“Everyone, on .”

Noticing the edge in his tone, the mbers closed in, standing back-to-back with hands on their hilts. The leader scanned the silence, frowning.

“Ha... should’ve checked the mont I thought those eggs had just hatched.”

One soldier’s voice shook. “Is there... sothing nearby?”

Right then—a low growl ca from sowhere. The n drew their swords, but the sound multiplied, spreading from one direction to several, encircling them.

They held their breath, pressing closer.

Then, sothing lunged from atop the stone pile where the eggs lay.

Kyaaaak—!

“Above!”

A soldier rushed to et it, but the leader yanked him aside, rolling both out of range.

He swung and unleashed a burst of sword energy. The creature split in half, green sli spilling and hissing against the stone as it ate into the surface, smoke curling up.

“It’s a Dermoca!”

At his shout, more of the creatures erged from the bushes, surrounding them. They had been waiting. Their numbers were considerable.

The leader slashed again, but the creatures darted away, his strike shattering nearby stonework—including the statue from earlier, its neck blown clean off.

Still, the destructive force was enough to keep them wary. The Dermocas circled at a distance, not yet rushing in.

But the numbers were against them, and the group could do little but stand off.

Then the creatures began to roar, the wrinkled lumps on their backs twitching and pulsing.

A deep boom rolled through the ruins, the ground quivering underfoot.

“Wha—what?”

The impact made their legs tremble, and for an instant their guard slipped. The Dermocas’ lumps contracted and relaxed rhythmically, like beating hearts.

“Platoon Leader,” one man said, dread in his voice. “Could that be... that thing?”

Gulping, the leader answered, “...It’s calling its kin.”

A thought tangled through his mind.

Dermoca eggs? Wait—they’re mammals, aren’t they? They give live birth...

No. No one’s ever found a nest. That was only speculation.

Their hides were wrinkled and rough, their eyes invisible—degenerated from relying on ultrasound. Instead, their jaw joints were grotesquely overdeveloped.

The nearest one opened its mouth, issuing a guttural snarl. Blood-flecked saliva dripped from its red maw—repulsive enough to stir fear just from sight.

“Lucas.”

“Yes.”

“These things—you said they’re intelligent?”

“Yes. They can sense fear. We’re not supposed to show it.”

Kyaaaak—!

The leader gave a thin, bitter smile at the chorus ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) of shrieks around them.

“If you’re not afraid of sothing like that, are you even human? Ha... damn, we’re in trouble. And the radio’s dead.”

“What now? There’s too many... Should we fall back?”

The leader’s grip tightened on his hilt. At last, he spoke.

“If we move a little further from here, we’ll reach our n. Go call for support. The rest of us will retrieve Dylan.”

“What? You’re not coming?”

Dylan was already in a Dermoca’s jaws, limp, riddled with holes from its teeth. He was beyond saving—but the leader nodded anyway.

“We have to at least bring the body back.”

Lucas studied the leader’s set profile, then nodded and readied himself to leap.

The others closed in to cover him as the Dermocas pressed nearer. The leader’s voice ca low.

“Get that support. Go, now.”