FREE USE in Primitive World - Chapter 340: Great Badger Level Up

Chapter 340: Chapter 340: Great Badger Level Up

The Elite warriors, men who had spent decades honing their craft, watched the outsider kid carve through the horde like a hot knife through butter. The sheer, terrifying ease with which he killed shocked them to their core, but more importantly, it injected a massive, adrenaline-fueled boost into their flagging morale.

“The Divine One holds the line!” a scarred captain roared, driving his spear into a crippled beast. “Push them back! Do not let him fight alone!”

Spurred on by Sol’s devastating display, the Veynar warriors rallied. They tightened their formations, their spears moving in synchronized, lethal thrusts. Soon, the immediate area around the cracked palisade was entirely cleared of enemies, leaving nothing but a mountain of bleeding carcasses.

But Sol didn’t stop there.

His blood was boiling. The thrill of the slaughter, the heavy, intoxicating rush of absorbing the ambient essence of a thousand dying predators, was overwhelming his rational restraints. He didn’t stay back to hold the defensive line. He continued to push outward, stepping over the corpses, marching directly into the churning ocean of the horde.

He carved a bloody swathe deep into the enemy ranks. Within minutes, he had completely separated himself from the Veynar Vanguard. He was standing alone in the absolute middle of the battlefield, entirely surrounded by a terrifying, dense ring of Layer 2 Omen Bloods and hulking Layer 3 Essence Born beasts.

They circled him, their eyes glowing with predatory malice, their jaws dripping with saliva and venom, waiting for the human to show a single sign of fatigue.

But fatigue was the furthest thing from Sol’s reality.

Suddenly, deep within the center of his chest, a profound, tectonic shift occurred.

It wasn’t the frantic, crackling surge of the Dreadwing’s essence. It was a heavy, immovable, and overwhelmingly dense pressure that radiated from his solar plexus down into the very marrow of his bones.

The soul of the Lord Great Badger had finally finished its long, agonizing cycle of healing.

When Sol had absorbed the two Sovereign spirits, the Dreadwing had been relatively intact, allowing him to tap into its speed and reflexes almost immediately.

But the Great Badger had been brutally, near-fatally injured in the three-way war with the Hive Mother. It had taken days of continuous, high-intensity combat, fueled by the relentless refinement of his Sun Core, for the ancient, terrestrial spirit to accumulate enough power to fully mend its spiritual form.

He had noticed over the past few days that the higher the tier and bloodline of the beast, the exponentially longer it took to fully integrate and level up within his core. But the payoff for that agonizing wait was astronomical.

With a deep, resonant THUMP that Sol felt in his whole body, the Great Badger finally crossed the threshold, fully awakening and integrating into his Layer 1 foundation.

The feedback loop began instantly.

A massive, explosive surge of golden, earth-aspected power flooded his veins. Sol gasped, his back arching slightly as the raw power rewrote his physical baselines. His muscles didn’t bulge, they condensed, becoming terrifyingly compact, dense enough to rival refined iron.

The silver-gray Badger armor he wore seemed to hum in perfect, resonant harmony with the spirit inside him, the hide and the soul recognizing each other.

The Dreadwing gave him his terrifying, untouchable speed, his hyper-lethal reflexes, and highly efficient hunting skills.

But the Great Badger? The Great Badger gave him the earth itself.

His physical defense skyrocketed to absurd, monstrous levels. His cellular recovery went into overdrive, instantly knitting together the minor bruises and micro-tears in his muscles.

And his stamina… the finite, exhausting resource that dictated life and death in the Orrath… suddenly felt like an endless, bottomless ocean. He felt as though he could stand in the middle of this battlefield and swing his sword for a hundred years without ever needing to draw breath.

Despite the seemingly perilous, suicidal situation of being surrounded by hundreds of high-tier monsters, a low, dark chuckle began to spread on his face.

The chuckle quickly escalated into an exhilarating, almost maniacal laugh that echoed over the roars of the beasts.

“Come on, then!” Sol roared, his silver-crimson eyes flaring with blinding, unrestrained power. “Show me what you’ve got!”

But the beasts didn’t move, seemingly wary of his sudden power boost.

“Haha, seems like I gotta come to you, just don’t blame me, saying I didn’t give you a chance.”

He didn’t wait for them to attack. He became a true, walking Asura.

He launched himself into the ring of monsters. The Dreadwing Blade became a continuous, blinding arc of sapphire light. He didn’t even bother parrying the glancing blows anymore. A layer 3 essence born Black wolf clamped its jaws down on his forearm, but the teeth couldn’t even pierce against his condensed, Level 1 flesh before Sol casually crushed the beast’s skull with a backhand strike.

A massive, stone-clad gorilla slammed its fists into his back, Sol didn’t even stumble. He absorbed the kinetic impact perfectly, spun around, and bisected the ape at the waist.

His whole body was covered in black, green, and red blood. It dripped from his dark hair, smeared across his face, and soaked his whole body. He was a terrifying, beautiful machine of absolute slaughter, laughing in the face of the apocalypse, butchering predators that had terrorized the jungle for centuries.

But the Great Orrath was a place filled with endless cunning beasts.

As Sol was busy ripping his sapphire blade out of the chest cavity of a massive, armored rhinoceros in front of him, the air pressure directly behind his back subtly warped.

A Ghost-Mantis… a Layer 2 stealth-specialty beast… had perfectly utilized the chaos, the deafening noise, and the thick spray of blood to perfectly mask its approach.

It dropped its almost light-bending camouflage at the absolute last microsecond, its massive, razor-sharp scythe-arms lunging forward with full force, aimed directly at the exposed sliver of flesh between Sol’s Badger armor and his helmetless neck.

It was a perfect, lethal ambush.