Damon did not linger in the grotto anymore and quickly moved out of there after covering himself up in casual clothing. He wanted to give everyone so space and ti to relax and adjust to their condition. More than that, his hands were itching for so action. The other type of action.
No matter how warm and grounding the monts with the three of them had been, the unease inside him never fully faded. The world was changing too fast. Power gaps widened overnight, rules rewrote themselves without warning, and events like the Golden Throne didn't exist for entertainnt.
They were sieves ant to separate the strong from the dead and forgotten. Damon could feel it in his bones. Comfort was a luxury, and lingering in it for too long was dangerous.
Only training, pure, brutal, and focused training, could quiet that restless edge in his chest. He walked away from the camp, step by step, until the familiar sounds of voices and laughter dulled behind him. The wilderness welcod him with silence.
This was where he belonged. His thoughts beca sharp. No distractions. No expectations. Just effort and consequence. Damon rolled his shoulders once, exhaled, and let his aura leak out just enough to test the surroundings. Sowhere nearby, sothing strong stirred. Good. If the future insisted on being uncertain, then he would et it the only way he knew how, by sharpening himself until the uncertainty beca inevitability.
Damon's figure silently disappeared as he shadow stepped behind a humongous salamander. The beast had three heads, and its eyes were sharp and focused. It was a beast that was at the peak of C rank. Even still, its eyes held a lot more intelligence than they should.
This was because the creature was not just any beast. It was a beast that was partially bound to another soul. And not just any soul. It was bound to a soul from the remnants of the Great War. The records ntioned that a long ti ago, when this very world was birthed, a Great War transpired between all the races.
The light faction and the dark faction forces had torn the world apart in that era, leaving behind scars that never truly healed. Ruined continents. Broken laws. And souls that refused to pass on, clinging instead to beasts, relics, and forgotten places.
It was not a matter of simple possession. The beasts here were recorded to have completely rged with these lost, vengeful souls, in the end becoming mutated abominations and growing unpredictably strong and powerful.
They were nightmares given flesh, neither truly alive nor properly dead. They rembered war. They rembered hatred. And unlike normal beasts, they learned, and at the sa ti, they used their powerful natural physique to unleash trendous power.
They were not corrupted or necrotic, and their minds were mostly intact despite the madness and rage that ravaged them. Many beast tars had tried to replicate such a beast transmorgification to make their personal army stronger, but no one had succeeded until now.
The records ntioned that so sort of special formation existed in the wilderness, which made all of this possible. So claid that the theory was bogus. Instead, they proposed that the amount of blood seeped into the ground, and the cursed energy in the battlefield naturally gave birth to these abominations. Sothing like this was possible only in this wilderness, and no one would ever be able to replicate it. The world also did not have to worry about the wilderness spreading.
Even though no one until now had truly managed to figure out the secret behind the wilderness, at least the part where it did not spread seed to be true, so the dark faction had sealed this area, labeling it as the Forest of Doom, and left it untouched. The beasts also never bothered to wander out of this region, making things simpler.
Damon did not care for this history so much. He wanted strong opponents, and this entire place was teaming with them. That was good enough for him. He observed the beast in front of him carefully. He had heard the rumors before, but this was the first ti he was personally witnessing an abomination. He couldn't help but wonder just how strong a peak C rank abomination truly was.
He took one step forward.
The salamander moved instantly.
The ground detonated as its forelimbs slamd down, molten fissures racing outward in jagged lines. One head spat a compressed cone of fire so dense it warped the air, while the second released a low-frequency roar that vibrated through bone and mana alike, a shockwave ant to disrupt concentration and casting.
Damon vanished, reappearing just outside the fire cone. The salamander's third head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing unnaturally. The beast didn't retreat. It charged.
Its body beca a streak of molten motion, speed far beyond what a C-rank physique should allow. Damon planted his foot and t it head-on, blood energy surging through his limbs as he threw a reinforced punch straight into the beast's chest.
The salamander skidded backward, tearing a trench through stone and soil, but it didn't collapse. It dug in, scales glowing brighter as it adjusted posture, stance, timing. The ground beneath Damon liquefied as the beast slamd its tail down, triggering a delayed eruption ant to trap and incinerate. Damon leapt upward instead, twisting midair as shadows wrapped around his legs.
He descended like a blade. His heel crashed down on one of the heads, shadow and blood reinforcing the strike. Scales shattered, and the head slamd into the earth with a concussive boom.
If he had activated his poison field, he could have already ended the fight, but he did not want to go there just yet. He wanted to train so more of his other strengths, not just rely on poison all the ti.
The beast shrieked. The remaining two heads moved in perfect coordination, one biting upward while the other expelled a spiraling stream of powerful flas. It was just ordinary flas, but the power held in them was unexpectedly shocking.
***
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