Chapter 152: The Hunt [3]
Inside the dark, humid depths of the mountain cavern, Tribe Leader Agrea stood before the gathered force of the Crimson Spotted Leopard-kin.
Though the vast majority of the enclave consisted of mundane mortals devoid of refined martial cultivation, they were still an A-class beastman species.
Their innate physical prowess, sharpened reflexes, and natural agility dwarfed that of ordinary human mortals.
Armed with iron-tipped spears, short blades, and heavy wooden shields, three hundred capable men and women stepped forward, their eyes burning with a desperate, wild resolve.
"Listen to me!" Agrea commanded, his deep voice reverberating off the subterranean stone walls. "We cannot blindly charge out into their killing fields. We need vision. We need to know their exact choke points."
Agrea looked toward a squad of twenty veteran scouts—swift, lean warriors led by a scarred leopard-man named Bran.
"Bran, take your squad and step out past the northern mouth," Agrea ordered, his claws digging into his palm. "Do not engage. Observe their movement patterns from the high crags, map their perimeter, and fall back immediately. We need intelligence if we are to scheme a way through this siege."
"Understood, Tribe Leader!" Bran saluted, his jaw set firm.
With hushed breath, the twenty Leopard-kin warriors turned and moved swiftly up the narrow exit tunnel.
Behind them, dozens of women, children, and elderly villagers gathered near the cavern threshold, watching with heavy, anxious hearts as their protectors approached the blinding sunlight of the outside world.
Bran took the first step onto the rocky ledge outside the cave entrance.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The sky itself seemed to explode.
Before Bran’s feet could even touch the dusty earth, a relentless, concentrated barrage of mana-amplified attacks rained down from the surrounding cliffs.
High-tier martial techniques, elemental air blades, and explosive runic arrows unleashed by dozens of hidden Martial Warriors slammed simultaneously into the narrow ledge.
CRACK-SPLATT!
An appalling, sickening sound echoed through the mountain valley.
In a single, horrifying second, the twenty elite Leopard-kin warriors were completely obliterated.
They were not merely cut down—the absolute sheer weight of the Martial Warriors’ combined mana crushed their bones, tore their flesh to ribbons, and reduced all twenty bodies into a grotesque, steaming pool of gore and red meatpaste against the stone wall.
Blood and shattered bone fragments sprayed backward into the mouth of the cave, splashing over the front ranks of the watching villagers.
"AAAAAHHHH!"
Horrified screams erupted from the women and children.
Mothers pulled their young ones close, burying the children’s faces into their chests as tears flowed freely down their bruised cheeks.
The sickening stench of copper and warm blood filled the tunnel air, suffocating and absolute.
Standing beside the Tribe Leader, the surviving men of the tribe trembled.
Their knuckles turned stark white as they clutched their weapons, their faces pale, their expressions drawn into rigid, solemn masks.
Deep in their chests, a agonizing grief flared—yet they forcefully suppressed their cries, biting their lips until they bled.
They knew that in this dark hour, weeping was a luxury they could not afford.
They had to remain steadfast for the coming slaughter.
Back inside the strategic hall, Agrea and the four elders stared at the bloody red mist hanging at the cave entrance.
A cold, terrifying realization settled into their souls.
The human hunters were completely merciless.
They were not treating this as a battle between warriors; they were treating it as an extermination.
The encirclement was so airtight and ruthless that the moment a single beastman showed their face, they would be obliterated before a strategy could even be formed.
"If we attempt a full breach..." Elder Vahn whispered, his blind eyes clouded with grim despair, "...we will all be slaughtered at the threshold before half our vanguard even sets foot on the grass."
Yet, despite the overwhelming death trap suffocating them, Agrea bared his fangs in a silent, stubborn snarl.
They refused to simply lay down and accept the iron collars.
They would wait, scheme, and search for even the smallest crack in the net.
Meanwhile, far away from the blood-soaked Hashian Mountains, at the spatial borderlands linking the Varanial Region to the outer domain of the Jura Eastern Continent...
Three silent, shadowy blurs flashed across the rugged, ancient landscape.
Roy, draped in his majestic wolf-man form, moved with effortless, predatory grace alongside Duchess Eurenia and Duchess Alisa.
Having successfully bypassed the boundaries of Varania using Alisa’s unmonitored coordinates, the three powerful entities had been traveling stealthily through the outskirts of the Eastern Continent for over an hour.
Their massive speeds were completely suppressed, leaving not a single ripple in the ambient mana as they swept past mountain ranges and dry forests.
Suddenly, Roy raised a clawed hand, coming to a smooth, instantaneous halt atop a high, forested ridge. Eurenia and Alisa stopped instantly behind him, their sharp eyes scanning the horizon.
Down in the lush valley below rested their very first encounter with human civilization on the Ten Continents: a small, rustic mortal village recorded on Alisa’s strategic map.
A crystal-clear mountain stream meandered through the center of the settlement.
Inside the cool water, several human children splashed, danced, and laughed in innocent excitement, their joyful cries echoing through the quiet valley.
Along the grassy riverbanks, several mothers knelt in peace, washing linen clothes on smooth river rocks, completely ignoring the little ones playing beside them.
Duchess Eurenia stepped up beside Roy, her dark armor glinting in the filtered sunlight.
Her golden eyes narrowed into sharp, arrogant slits as she looked down at the peaceful human village.
Her wild, predatory instincts flared with immediate disdain.
"Lord Jarden," Eurenia whispered, her voice laced with cold contempt. "I have scanned the entire valley. These creatures are utterly frail... I cannot detect even a single strand of cultivated mana within their bodies.
They are nothing more than fragile, mindless bugs."
She licked her lips, her sharp fangs catching the light as a wild, bloodthirsty grin spread across her face.
"Does the Apostle permit me to descend and wipe them out? Harvesting their dantians for mana cores might yield a minor resource for our lower-tier vanguard."
Roy turned his head slightly, looking at Eurenia with a calm, unbothered gaze before shaking his head.
"Your martial understanding of human anatomy is flawed, Eurenia," Roy explained smoothly, his deep voice barely a whisper in the wind. "Humans and beastmen are fundamentally different in their physical construction, and their paths of cultivation diverge completely.
Beastmen temper their bloodlines and flesh through harsh, brutal physical conditioning, storing raw mana directly within their muscle fibers and marrow."
Roy gestured toward the peaceful village below. "Humans, however, do not store unrefined mana in their flesh. They utilize spiritual meditation to balance their internal Yin and Yang, channeling ambient energy directly into a refined spiritual organ—the Dantian.
The moment a human cultivator dies, their internal energy balance collapses, and the Dantian automatically seals itself, dissipating its stored mana back into the atmosphere."
Roy’s gold-flecked eyes remained completely indifferent. "Even if you slaughtered a thousand of their high-tier cultivators, you would find no physical mana core resting inside their corpses.
They leave nothing behind."
Eurenia blinked, letting out a sharp, disappointed snort. She crossed her armored arms over her chest and turned her face away from the valley with a huff of deep disgust.
"Tch. Useless cattle," Eurenia muttered arrogantly, completely losing interest. "If these weaklings cannot even fetch us valuable resources upon their deaths, then staring in their pathetic direction is a complete waste of my time."
Roy smiled faintly, turning his gaze back toward the northern horizon where the distant peaks of the Northern Hashian Mountains loomed beneath the darkening clouds.
"Save your appetite, Eurenia," Roy murmured coldly, his eyes flashing with lethal intent.
"The ones who hold true value... are waiting for us further ahead."