Chapter 1960: Enjoying the Feast (1)
Chapter 1960: Enjoying the Feast (1)
It has always been the primal instinct of a prey to freeze to assess the situation and escape in fear.
Animals, insects, monsters—every living thing has the same primal instinct of flight or fight.
But what separates predator from prey is the order of their instincts. Prey flight first and fight only when cornered, while predator bared their fangs and claws first to fight and only consider flight when victory is no longer possible or too costly to bear.
Intelligent living beings have methods to go around that primal rule, but it’s hard for their bodies to lie.
Even a trained prey could never show a perfect response as a natural predator would.
And right now, in the face of ten Awakened Demigods, the natural instincts for anyone should be to find a way to escape. Farhan had been in this situation before and knew that most of the reaction should be fear and panic.
Only those who have no intention to live would not feel anything.
But Rex didn’t look like someone who wanted to die, so he could only be a natural predator.
’Even so, to go against ten Awakened Demigods with similar strength to him... Is he a fool who doesn’t know how dire his situation was? Or is he acting like this to buy time and search for an exit?’ Farhan’s eyes stayed fixed on Rex, attempting to read through his mind, but couldn’t. ’What is he thinking?’
Crack—!
Just then, the sound of cracking bones and swelling muscles filled the silent pocket dimension.
Like tree trunks breaking under impossible pressure.
Farhan blinked, and in the space of that blink, Rex had begun to change. His body expanded, dark fur bristled across his shoulders and arms, claws pushed from his fingertips, and fangs lengthened behind lips that were pulled back in something between a snarl and a vicious smile.
It happened so fast and seamlessly that it was surreal.
Almost like Rex had shed the skin of a man and exposed his true form of a predator.
But what caught him and the other ten Awakened Demigods off guard was the aura that came rushing.
Swoosh—!
It surged in a detonation, doubling, tripling in the span of a few seconds. A brush of heat—that was the mixture of bloodlust and burning energy brushed against their skins. Farhan flinched, and his squad on his sides also reacted the same way.
All of their battle-hardened composure cracked for a single, telling second, before they wrested it back into place. Showing weakness is a fatal mistake in a fight, one of the teachings from their military officer program, and they almost forgot about it.
But Rex didn’t miss that change.
He didn’t miss the shock on their faces, and the fact that the shock was fleeting made him excited.
It tasted like the finest wine. Gold. Pure gold.
Rex had been starved of a real fight, aching for something that could push him and inflict pain on him, and these ten Awakened Demigods were perfect. As Lilliana phrased it—Not too weak to die instantly, and not too strong to put his life in danger.
Just enough strength.
A perfect medium-rare steak that the waiter had brought to his table.
And Rex couldn’t help but lick his lips.
Aooouu—!
An exuberant howl tore from his throat. It wasn’t a battle cry; Rex didn’t intend it to be. Instead, it was a pure, feral happiness that forced him to howl. On his forehead, the Blood Moon King Mark blazed in response to the flaming anger inside of him.
In the next second, an invisible wave of energy spread across the entire pocket dimension.
Farhan and the other Awakened Demigods frowned.
Something invisible attacked their minds—some of them could feel their bodies losing strength at an incredibly rapid pace, some could feel the energy that made up their powers leaving their bodies, and some, like Farhan and another one, didn’t feel anything.
Just a breeze that prickled their skin.
"What is this...? What sorcery is this?"
"My energy is being drained!"
"He has a strong mental attack!" Farhan roared when he realized. "He’s dangerous! Prepare to fig—!"
Splash—!
Before Farhan could even finish his sentence, the Blood Moon King Mark on Rex’s forehead shone even brighter. From the light, growls and the clacking of fangs could be heard as the wolves came out. A hundred phantom wolves poured out in a black tide, fangs and claws and silent hungry eyes.
Having to kill a lot of people in the Grey Realm, Rex gathered these phantom wolves.
He made good use of the Phantom Pack skill.
Some of these phantom wolves are incredibly weak, but there are some with the power of a Demigod.
Each one lunged at the disoriented enemies, drowning their vision in a flood of tooth and shadow.
Rex reached up with his newly clawed hand, cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders loose. As much as he wanted to start slaughtering them, he didn’t want to rush. This was a golden opportunity, and he wanted to enjoy it.
He watched the chaos that was caused by his new Almighty Bearing skill for half a breath, savouring the anticipation, the electric hum of violence about to be unleashed. And when he was loose and ready, he moved.
Blitz—!
Rex dashed forward.
Black lightning sheathed his body like a sword of the night sky, crackling across his fur and accelerating his already monstrous speed. A wind barrier snapped into place around him—a rarely used but present element that he controls—slicing resistance to nothing. Above, the false moon brightened as he flooded it with lunar mana.
Performative, yes, but he wanted the moon close.
He wanted to feel its fabricated light on his skin as he slaughters every mongrel that Ursa sent for him.
At the second step, the flowers dissolved into nothing from a sudden discharge of energy, and the plain cracked open. He cast the Primordial Step skill, propelling him faster. On the fourth step, when he was underneath the busy enemies, he channeled more black lightning into his legs and then used the Voidal Moonflow Acceleration skill.
Such a combination of power broke the world around him.
Rex disappeared.
His body blurred to the point of merging with the air inside this pocket dimension. A blur that outpaced the sonic boom his dash created. The noise of his passage lagged behind and rippled outward in violent, sonic waves that flattened the flower plain.
In the next second, Rex was already behind one of the unsuspecting Awakened Demigods.
A man in a flowery robe who was the most affected by the Almighty Bearing skill.
Considering that the skill was a combination of a powerful skill that he often used in the past and a skill that he took from a Demigod, the power it contained was no laughing matter. It could strip the strength of those who lack it and strip the energy of those who barely use it.
Perhaps the effect doesn’t strip the targets of their powers too much, but it did something better.
It made them far weaker in the part they are already lacking.
For this man, he was weak in physical strength, and now, he was weaker.
"You cheap bastard!"
Slash—!
Rex coated his claws with the Unholy Claws of the Reaper skill and raked the man’s face.
Due to the speed, the man cannot react in time.
His face was split open, mangled, but he’s not dead.
Rex gave no chance for him to retaliate and plunged his claws into the man’s chest, carving out his heart easily, and then pulled out his arm. In that same moment, the Damned Specter that he had already summoned earlier cruised through the horde of phantom wolves with his eyes fixated on the other enemies.
But he didn’t attack the Awakened Demigods.
Just rushed past them after tapping them once with his hand.
On the other side, Farhan raised his gaze and saw ten phantom wolves baring their fangs at him.
He snorted arrogantly and drew his sword—the blade flashed and cut the air several times in the span of a second, killing the phantom wolves one by one, but it was caught inside the fangs of the last one, causing him to frown, ’How is this one abnormally stronger than the others?’
For the phantom wolf to react and catch his blade, it would need to have the power of a Demigod.
Others fell with a simple swing, so this one surprised Farhan.
Perhaps it was their identical scent, or the way their auras merged into a seamless unit, but he had failed to sense the abnormal strength coiled within this particular phantom wolf. Regardless, it mattered little for someone like him.
As a candidate Milinar, he’s not someone easy to deal with.
His blade hummed with ice, and with a single push, it searched through the creature—splitting its skull cleanly in two horizontally. It dissolved completely after being sliced, and Farhan quickly looked around and assessed the situation.
On the side, he saw that the phantom wolves were still attacking his comrades.
Some of them were weakened, so they were having trouble dealing with the abnormal phantom wolves.
And strangely, most of his comrades were hunched over, as if gravity was pulling them down hard.
But his eyes narrowed at something.
A figure wove through the horde of phantom wolves, and the creatures parted before it like water around a stone. A person. The target—or so he assumed. But the aura bleeding from this one was far less intense than what the target had radiated earlier.
Farhan didn’t know what this thing was, but he wouldn’t let it be.
Swish—!
His body turned translucent and ice-cold like a spirit, and then shot into the ground.
On the surface, one could track his extremely fast movement as he left behind a trail of ice wherever he moved underground. Some of the phantom wolves sensed him and tried scratching their claws to reach him, but he was too fast, and the ground was too thick.
Oblivious to what was coming, the figure that was identical to the target reached forward.
He managed to go unnoticed by a woman in a tribal flowery dress and reached his hand to tap her.
But his hand was caught an inch away from touching.
A translucent and ice-cold hand emerged from the ground and seized his hand firmly. Farhan climbed out like a ghost and drew his sword again, pulling it out with deliberate slowness as the figure couldn’t move away; frozen in place.
Seamlessly, he swung his sword across the figure’s body and turned him into ice.
And with a kick, it shattered.
Farhan then dashed sideways—and sliced six phantom wolves in half with a blurry swing, helping the woman take a breather to break whatever mind attack that was seizing her and took away her strength, and pinning her to her spot.
"Get ready," Farhan said sternly. "We’ll rescue the others—and attack the target together. We’ll use the innate law of the pocket dimension to suppress him and cut him clean. I don’t like this situation. We’re exposed. Do you hear me, Mayla?"
"Yes," the woman, Mayla, nodded. "Who in the world are we fighting?"
"It doesn’t matter, what matters mo—"
Bzzt—!
Farhan and Mayla froze when they felt a vibration on their arms. They looked down at the same time and saw the ten glowing beads that were engraved on their wrists like tattoos had changed. One of the beads flickered and then died.
And the sight made them hold their breaths.
This meant one of them died.
Instinctively, their eyes searched around and saw the target in the distance.
Rex lifted the bleeding heart toward the sky, holding it aloft as though offering his enemies a clear view of their defeat. Then he bit. His fangs sank deep—and the heart burst inside his mouth, spilling blood from the corners of his lips in dark, glistening streams.
He then wiped the bloodstain and smirked, exposing his blood-coated fangs, "Yummy..."