"Huff… Huff…"
Xevier Adams was panting heavily as Emilia worked to heal the festering wound in his chest.
Holy energy truly was a blessing in situations like this—its purifying touch cleansed the infection completely, allowing Xevier to breathe in relief.
"It's a good thing the wound didn't reach your heart... Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to save you."
Emilia exhaled and stepped back as the others made space for the mage to stand again.
"I'm sorry... I was careless,"
Xevier said, directing his apology to Phoenix. But he simply shook his head.
"It's fine. The responsibility is mine."
Even though the Elite Class was made up of the best, at the end of the day, they were still just children—barely past puberty. Incidents like this were well within the realm of possibility… but Phoenix had failed to anticipate it.
Standing a little behind them, Aegon Valerion gave a quiet, knowing chuckle. He'd predicted this outco, perhaps even expected it—but chose to stay silent. After all, despite being in the sa crisis, the Elite Class was far from functioning as a true team.
"We'll halt the looting here. There's no point in continuing."
Fearing another mishap, Phoenix decided to end the corpse-scavenging operation. Everyone laid out what they had collected.
The result was far from satisfying.
"What the hell is this filth?!"
Danzo stared in disgust at the pile of rotten at, dried herbs, and moldy mushrooms dumped in front of him.
Ghost answered.
"This is what those people were eating. Rotten at, aged fungi—so of it poisonous—wild herbs not fit for consumption... and most of the water they carried was contaminated and unfit to drink."
He paused for a mont, debating whether to share sothing else… but chose to keep it to himself.
"I don't know how they even had the strength to fight us. Like the prince said, we were up against walking corpses."
It was almost comical ... how the intruders on this land, like Frey and the others, were in far better condition than its native inhabitants.
"But on the other hand, we did manage to salvage a few things—armor, clothes, weapons. They're all in horrible condition, but they might work for camouflage."
Ghost gave his full report, as he had looted more corpses than anyone else—so much so that a few students had been repulsed by how he tore through so of the bodies looking for anything remotely useful.
As expected from an assassin like him, desecrating corpses wasn't sothing new.
"I see... well done, Ghost Umbra."
Phoenix sighed, trying to think of a way to make use of the limited gear they'd acquired. But overall, that hour spent scavenging had been almost entirely fruitless.
As Phoenix examined the poor-quality weapons and clothing, a few students walked over to the pile of rotten at and bones, visibly disturbed.
"How could anyone eat this kind of garbage?!"
Jan Dover—one of the Elite Class mbers and forrly part of Feyreth's entourage—picked up a chunk of at, grimacing.
Nearby, Frey raised an eyebrow as he glanced at Jan and his companion, Kyle.
"Amazing. You two are still alive?"
"You—!"
Jan was about to respond, but the words caught in his throat the mont his eyes t Frey's.
Frey wasn't soone they could afford to ss with anymore. Even though he hadn't ant any offense—he genuinely thought they'd died sowhere along the way—Jan backed off and refocused on the at in his hands.
It looked like a shoulder cut, complete with bone. But its size didn't match any animal Jan could recognize, which led him to ask:
"What kind of at is this…?"
The mont he asked, Aegon laughed loudly, drawing everyone's attention.
With a smile, Aegon pointed to the chunk.
"Are you sure you want to keep holding that shoulder? Its original owner must've been cursed to end up like this."
"What are you talking about?"
Jan asked, confused, and Aegon sighed.
"Seems like you forgot sothing in your report, Ghost Umbra... or maybe you left it out on purpose."
Ghost remained silent, confirming Aegon's suspicion.
"What you're holding… is human flesh."
The mont Aegon dropped that bombshell, everyone froze.
One second of eerie silence.
Then Jan scread and hurled the at away in horror.
"Human flesh?!"
Disgust spread like wildfire through the group as the realization set in. So had already suspected it—among them, Snow Lionheart, who now looked thoroughly irritated.
"You shouldn't have said that... Aegon."
Snow muttered darkly, but Aegon simply shook his head.
"There's no point in hiding it. Let them understand what kind of enemies they're facing."
From the very start, they should've known—what they were up against wasn't just other humans. What lay on this side of the world was far more sinister.
And now, with the revelation of cannibalism, panic began to seep into the ranks of the Elite Class—exactly what Phoenix had wanted to avoid.
"That's enough… let's move."
Now that Xevier Adams could move again, there was no reason to remain on the battlefield.
In silence, everyone picked themselves up and departed, forming into separate groups— the largest of which followed Professor Phoenix.
Among them, Frey walked alongside Ghost and Danzo. Snow wanted to join them, but too many people clung to him, forcing him to look back awkwardly.
With each step, they passed the corpses of the transford humans—zombie-like beings oozing black fluid from their wounds.
"I wonder... how did they end up like this?"
Danzo muttered absentmindedly, puzzled by the strange black liquid seeping out of their bodies.
"They're failed contractors," Ghost answered, and Frey nodded.
"I thought the sa. That black substance is corrupted demonic blood."
There was no other explanation for what they were seeing.
Danzo seed unfamiliar with the concept, prompting Ghost—uncharacteristically patient—to explain further. A clear sign that he had changed.
"There are two types of demonic contracts. First-generation contracts grant a human dark aura directly from a demon. But the increase in power is minimal."
Danzo nodded. That much he already knew.
"Then there are second-generation contracts… which involve injecting demonic blood directly into the human body."
Second-generation contracts produced far stronger results, as demonic blood held terrifying power capable of mutating the human body to wield more potent aura types.
However—
"Despite its power, demonic blood is essentially poison to us. Naturally, not many survive the process."
Those who did were elite—the backbone of the Ultras. But they were the minority.
As for the rest? Those whose bodies rejected the blood either died… or worse—turned into aimless, flesh-hungry creatures that road without purpose.
"The Ultras didn't hesitate to turn that many people into lab rats..."
"That's horrifying…"
This was why reconciliation had never been an option. Most people didn't realize how blessed they were to live behind the Empire's walls, protected from the horrors of the outer world.
Frey said nothing—he already knew all of this. These details were part of what he'd once written into the novel.
Even though the future had changed so drastically that the story was nearly irrelevant now, facts like these still aligned with the original "Land of survival" he'd created.
The group moved quietly, conserving their strength as much as possible.
As they crossed the barren lands, silence fell—each person lost in their thoughts.
The only sound was Xevier's occasional coughing, trying to catch his breath as Selina supported him.
Despite his poor condition, he was the object of envy—being taken care of by such a beautiful girl.
Frey, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about the previous ambush.
The way they had been cornered… how everything felt planned.
It all made him wonder ... was this just a ga orchestrated by soone watching them?
If so, what did that person want? And why hadn't they killed them yet?
Even a fraction—no, just a sliver of the Ultras' true power would've been enough to wipe them out. So why hadn't that happened?
Just what kind of chase were they caught in?
The mont Frey asked himself that, he realized how little he knew—completely unaware that they were pawns in the Eternal Witch's ga.
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