Chapter 117: Pure Hostility
Going back a few hours in time.
Priam shot into the forest. For almost an hour, he moved like a high-speed blur, jumping between trunks and branches.
Along the way, he pushed his mind to the limit, trying to register every detail of the route. But after dozens of abrupt turns left and right between the mountains, his spatial orientation became a complete mess.
In the end, he was forced to accept reality: without spending months living there, it was impossible not to get lost in that green labyrinth.
Forests were as complex as mazes. If the Primordial Chaos Beasts built and lived in normal cities, it would be much easier.
’If I need to run away in a hurry... I’m fucked,’ Priam pushed the thought aside. ’Well... one problem at a time.’
Finally, after advancing a little farther, he detected three figures approaching and braked abruptly.
"Who’s th...!" A harsh command began to echo, but was cut off halfway.
Three silhouettes emerged from the shadows of the foliage, surrounding Priam in an ambush formation. In the next second, however, all three froze, their eyes wide with pure shock.
The figure before them was a complete mystery. Priam was wrapped in a heavy cloak that covered every inch of his body. Beneath the hood, a bizarre and supernatural darkness hid his face, repelling not only light but also the guards’ perception.
That was a simple effect of the Power Rune.
The strangest part, however, was his aura. His life energy was so weak and unstable that he looked like a walking corpse, someone only a few days away from the coffin. In contrast, the bloodline emanating from him carried an absurdly dense demonic terror... but was completely unrecognizable.
It was obvious Priam wouldn’t make things easy by revealing the Fem-Ignis bloodline.
To camouflage his identity, he had deliberately mixed the energy of conflicting medicinal herbs into the Power Rune, distorting his racial signature until it became a grotesque mutation, but still demonic.
The only peculiar thing about the disguise was the fact that this figure was only an elementary-level Mage Disciple.
But that wasn’t completely impossible. Maybe this was a disguise Magic Art that this demon used to hide his power and avoid being easily sensed, they thought.
They were half right. "Only" the type of disguise was completely wrong.
In the end, the entire description of this terrible figure before them matched perfectly.
"S-Sir... what would your name be...?" the figure in front stammered, cold sweat running down the back of his neck.
Priam only let out a cold, disdainful snort. When he spoke, his voice came out rough, scraping against his throat like a guttural growl:
"You know exactly who I am. Don’t waste my time, or I’ll kill you."
Without waiting for a response, Priam marched forward. The three guards swallowed their pride and hurried their steps to follow him politely. A little later, they took the lead to guide him through the exact path.
...
About an hour later.
Priam was already tense, calculating that he had less than 4 hours of Ether left in his body before he would be forced to use several pills. But they finally arrived.
They spotted an imposing structure. Embedded very close to the mountain peak stood an imposing structure, a massive silhouette that seemed to defy the heavens.
The climb was slow, and they reached the top within minutes.
Before they even crossed the threshold of the enormous mansion, the atmosphere was already trembling. Tyrannical roars, filled with primitive despair, echoed violently from inside the mansion.
It was the Supreme General. He was completely consumed by a blind frenzy of fury and anguish.
To try to save his dying son, he hadn’t stayed there waiting for the main guest and hadn’t hesitated to move heaven and earth; he had forcibly dragged every kind of demon with even the slightest medical ability there.
The guides of the "new demon doctor" stopped abruptly. Their steps froze on the ground.
They bowed deeply to Priam, gesturing with trembling hands for him to continue forward alone. Their bodies were covered in cold sweat from terror; they knew very well that the Supreme General could decapitate anyone out of pure rage at any millisecond.
Priam ignored the thunderous chaos coming from inside and advanced. He pushed open the heavy door and crossed the entrance, completely alone.
The interior revealed an empty, spacious hall connected to a room at the back, whose door was wide open.
From inside, the pitiful and trembling voices of several demon healers overlapped in a chorus of panic:
"Supreme General, this old man is truly powerless... I ask you to forgive me for my inability."
Another spoke. "The Young Master’s injuries are far too severe. I am incompetent, and I can only prescribe him a few elixirs to temporarily stabilize the collapse of his body. As for a definitive cure... I fear it is impossible."
A more feminine voice sounded, choked with nervousness.
"Perhaps... the Young Master’s only salvation really is this Primordial Scarlet Essence Core. However, this is the first time this Lady has come across an object of this caliber. I simply don’t possess the necessary skills to handle it."
"Charlatans! A bunch of useless charlatans and filthy trash!"
This time, another female voice exploded inside the room.
It was a scream so sharp, hysterical, and filled with poisonous malice that it reverberated off the walls, even causing physical nausea in those who heard it.
Ignoring the hysteria, Priam advanced through the hall.
His steps were slow, surgical, and so silent they were almost imperceptible. A shadow walking through the void.
But the moment his dark silhouette crossed the doorway...
...the combat senses of the Supreme General and his wife instantly shot to the maximum level!
The air in the room froze.
The two turned in a perfectly synchronized motion, nailing their eyes onto the newcomer like two sharp blades ready to behead him.
The deepest survival instincts of that monstrous couple roared in unison:
Danger! This creature, before them, exudes pure hostility!
In that same millisecond, the space around Priam collapsed. Gravity seemed to multiply by a hundred.
It was as if a titanic mountain of absolute ice had crashed directly onto his back — a crushing physical and mental pressure, a killing intent so dense and visceral it could almost be seen with the naked eye, trying to break his spine and force him to his knees.
But... even after several seconds... that dark shadow didn’t even tremble or show any reaction.
"You..."
The woman’s voice echoed. It wasn’t just cold; it was cutting, icy, and overflowing with overwhelming bloodlust, capable of paralyzing the soul of any ordinary being.
Priam sighed inwardly.
’It’s showtime!’