The ground exploded — not just around , but everywhere, blowing sand and debris into the air in a violent cascade.
Sothing shot out of the ground alongside the explosion, flying toward us.
First ca the disorientation. The earth had loosened beneath our feet, shaking our balance, and then the explosion of sand and stone threw us into complete chaos. Then ca the bone spikes. As I saw one hurtling toward , my eyes sharpened, and in that mont my brain worked with a calmness I never knew I possessed.
I spawned swirling chains that twisted into the air, blocking the white bone spikes flying toward and the man behind who was still recovering his footing.
The explosion itself wasn’t that strong — that wasn’t the main problem. The spikes were.
I could hear people shouting and groaning. Even the wagons were hit.
All of this happened in less than three seconds. The perfectly regulated, well-ford caravan was thrown into utter disaster.
’The old man was right.’
Not only had the Spirit Beasts actually been here, they’d sensed us long before and had been lying in ambush.
"Hold the line! Target exposed muscles!"
Surprisingly, amid all the chaos, soone was sharp enough to have discovered a weakness that quickly. People were already reorienting themselves.
The creatures spawned from beneath the ground, directly under the wagons, striking toward us with curved tails that ended in what looked like at hooks rather than stingers. They could strike hard — one of them splintered a hole clean through a wagon from beneath.
The man behind was fast. He had sothing that looked like a chain with sharp, serrated edges. It whipped past and wrapped around one of the curved bone tails. Then he pulled, dragging the thing out from underneath the wagon.
"Don’t let them damage the wagons," he said simply as he swung his chain, sending the twisted creature flying through the air before it smashed into a tree.
Another was already burrowing its way out from the hole the first one had left.
My hands extended forward, white chains lashing out, wrapping around its curved tail and swinging it away just like the man had done.
Another was already coming from the sa hole. Like they were in a queue.
’Lovely. An organized ambush.’
They were like Death’s heads crawling toward on spider legs — a grotesque fusion of scorpion and skull, with bone-white carapaces. Six segnted legs ended in hooked claws that sank into the earth with each step. And their faces, if they could even be called that, were flattened skull-plates with two downward-pointing mandibles that clicked and scraped as they moved.
As my chains lashed out at the nearest one, I used the connection as an anchor for the white flas. The fire ran along the chain in an instant, igniting the creature and destroying it in one gory explosion — black blood and broken bone shards scattered across the sand.
[You have killed a Feral (Tier 1) Spirit Beast: Cratakiti]
[You have gained a Cratakiti Hook-Barb]
Another one released its mandibles, shooting out bone spikes. A chain whipped past my face, intercepting them before they could reach .
"Careful, boy." The man was already controlling his chain to lash at the Cratakiti beneath the wagon, dragging it out into the open.
His control of the chain was impressive. He had a movent that was fluid and instinctive!
’That’s the kind of thing I need to learn.’
The attributes I’d received from summoning Pyre Saint were four, but mainly two worked as combat instrunts. One served as a decent debuff, and the last made resistant to flas — though I suspected not completely. I’d noticed so tolerance with heat, and that was it for now. Not like I’d tested it by jumping into a bonfire.
Sanctified Immolation gave control over the holy flas — what I preferred to call the white flas. Chains of Confession allowed to manifest blessed chains, bind people, and imbue upon them the suffering weight of their sins.
I still wasn’t sure exactly how that last part was supposed to work. Maybe it was a generalization of sin, or their sin toward specifically, or whatever I declared the sin to be. The chanics remained unclear.
But the chains themselves were useful. They felt as real and solid as normal chains. I’d used them against Derek, hoping to restrain him, but when I saw the way they’d cracked that tree after the bastard managed to slip free — that was a clear ssage. These things hit hard.
However, my chains lacked the sharp, serrated edges that this man’s possessed. Which was why I’d thought of running white flas along them instead.
Turned out it wasn’t such a bad idea.
Another creature shot toward . I snapped the chain short, gripping it at two different points, then spun quickly. The edges sparked with white flas as I lashed down just as the thing scrambled toward on those six hooked legs.
The chains smashed into its white carapace, driving it into the ground. I consciously controlled the flas, igniting the entire body in one smooth burst so it looked like the fire had spread the instant contact was made.
[You have killed Feral (Tier 1) Spirit Beast: Cratakiti]
People all around were fighting — stabbing weapons, spears, and swords into the Spirit Beasts. The creatures had tough carapaces. I hadn’t experienced that firsthand yet thanks to my blessed chains and white flas, but their bone plating looked strong enough to deflect blades entirely. So everyone was going for the exposed muscle between the joints and around the mouth area.
More crawled out of the ground. But aside from that first wave of ambush, they weren’t actually that dangerous. Just Feral-tier Spirit Beasts — the kind soone like could handle without having to summon my villainesses.
"Hold the line! From the forest — hold the line!"
People were shouting that sa thing. Not just one. Not two. Multiple voices, rising in alarm.
’There are more?’
Perhaps I really had underestimated the ga of numbers. The thing that had made the atmosphere of the caravan so gloomy from the start.
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