Chapter 159: Otherworlders
"In time, we will have no choice but to do so as we face difficult battles. The System itself enforces it," he said straightforwardly. "But before that time, I think everyone strong enough to be here can handle basic stealth, no?"
The logic was sound. Uhtred himself knew it. Krijn didn’t beat around the bush at all, saying it exactly as it was.
"...Or do you think even I am not curious about you, Uhtred?" Krijn asked, crossing his thick, hairy arms with a light smile on his face. "I’m extremely curious how you shot to the top of the trial rankings... What about you has changed since we last met..."
"But I’m not asking."
Uhtred’s gaze lingered on Krijn for a silent beat. He had almost forgotten how different the Neanderthal general was compared to most of the ancient variants he had come across.
"Fine," he nodded. "But the rule holds. We should all avoid combat at all costs."
They moved forward into the terrain.
Zone 3 was quiet in an unsettling way. It was not empty, as it was full of plant life and distant movement, but something about the environment felt wrong to Uhtred. The ambient essence didn’t feel like the clean, rich energy of Zone 2. Something else was mixed into it. It was cold, slightly bitter, and faintly esoteric. He couldn’t tell exactly what sort of esoteric magic it was, but he definitely knew it was foreign.
They moved carefully, staying beneath the thick canopy of the forest in this region.
Half an hour in, they still hadn’t made contact or spotted any of the Otherworlders, until out of nowhere, a large patrol passed nearby.
All four of them went completely still, dropping their essence signatures to absolute zero.
The patrol passed close enough that Uhtred could clearly see their individual details from his hiding spot behind a cluster of thick tree roots.
The Otherworlders were bipedal and broadly humanoid, but any comparison to humans ended right there.
For one, they had massive wings. Dark grey, feathered wings were folded tightly against their backs as they moved, with feathers so dark they absorbed light instead of reflecting it. Their skin was a dark, matte grey. Some of them had skin so dark it was almost an unreflective black with a strange, stone-like feel .
If Uhtred had to personally describe them, he’d call them fallen dark angels. That was the most apt description.
Their eyes were a pale gold with no warmth at all. Some walked with their faces bare, while others wore strange metal masks connected to essence-powered canisters strapped to their backs, as if they found the natural air of Earth beneath their dignity to breathe.
The patrol marched past, discussing lightly among themselves in their alien language. Uhtred’s translation device began interpreting their words, but their tones were too faint to glean anything.
None of them seemed to notice any of the four figures hiding and watching them. They disappeared into the distance. However, Uhtred still remained cautious. He waited, straining his ears to pick up any trace of a straggler or anyone that might have suspected anything among them.
Suddenly, his multiversal stream interface flickered to life in the corner of his vision, startling him slightly. He kept his body dead still, flicking his eyes toward the text. The Nine Nether Thirty-First Young Master was spamming the chat, laughing mockingly about the situation.
Huh? What’s wrong with this guy all of a sudden?
The Nine Nether Thirty-First Young Master had been quiet for a long time now. Ever since Uhtred had displayed several anomalous capabilities that put him at least at the Legendary Grade in terms of talent, the young master had become very compliant and docile.
What exactly had made him act out again?
Uhtred started to skim the text, but before he could see what the young master was blabbering about, his attention was violently yanked back to his surroundings.
Krijn had stood up.
Uhtred’s eyes widened. He waved away his stream panel and motioned harshly for Krijn to get back down, keeping his breath silent. He waited in agonizing tension to see if the patrol had noticed, but the woods remained quiet. The patrol was already out of range.
"You are far too cautious," Krijn grunted, stretching his massive shoulders as he looked down at Uhtred. "A warrior does not cower in the dirt over a few winged scouts."
Uhtred nearly facepalmed. At times, Krijn would display his depth of thought, and at other times, it was almost as if he couldn’t help but revert to his pre-programmed instincts.
He wanted to retort, but before he could, a sharp sensation jolted him immediately.
In fact, it wasn’t only him. Zara, Krijn, and the female general all turned their heads toward the exact same spot in the brush simultaneously.
A presence was standing there.
It was one of the Otherworlders. A scout.
He had been positioned well, waiting with patience. But when Krijn stood up, the scout had suffered a micro-flicker of surprise, a tiny, involuntary leak of essence. Against four high-level ascenders, that split-second slip was not something that could go unnoticed.
Krijn moved instantly.
His speed defied his massive size. He crossed the distance in a fraction of a second, his heavy axe whistling through the air. The Otherworlder scout was fast, his first instinct being to slam his thumb onto a communication device attached to his left forearm.
He hadn’t even bothered to look up at the incoming strike. And the reason became immediately apparent.
A red barrier materialized around him as the strike descended. However, that wasn’t enough to stop Krijn’s strike.
His axe sheared straight through the scout’s defensive barrier, much to the scout’s utter surprise, and severed his arm at the elbow before he could activate the device. In a fluid, brutal follow-through, Krijn spun his grip and cleaved the scout’s head cleanly off his shoulders.
The body hit the ground with a thud, dead before he realized what had happened.
Silence reigned for several seconds as they all stared at the body. Then, collectively, their eyes all turned to Uhtred, who was struggling to keep his expression in check.