Chương 262: Chapter 258 - Jurassic Valley (XV)

Light? An exit? I narrow my eyes. Odd. They didn't mention anything about an exit on the other side. But there is something about that light that feels… unnatural. It's not exactly white—more like a faint, greenish glow. I send Arjun a pulse." What do you think?"" Some strange minerals that glow, perhaps?"" Could be, but minerals do not naturally glow. They're at best fluorescent—converting UV to visible. To generate light, you need a source of energy, meaning it has to be… living.

At least that's how it works on Earth… not sure here."" So you mean odds are there are some sort of creatures ahead that are generating this green light?"" I would bet on that… yes. Let's prepare for a fight in any case." We slowly advance, but I keep a fair distance ahead, leaving Arjun behind to back me up with ranged fire while I handle the melee. I have my swords ready, but I don't send any EM waves forward. Not only would they be useless against the cloaking, but they might also reveal us more easily.

I push Overdrive slightly higher—my senses becoming sharper. I try to catch any sound of movement. Nothing. The smell in the air, however… it's very faint, but… there's something different about it. And so we keep moving, the light becoming more pronounced, and the pitch-black tunnels slowly gaining shape through my eyes—useless until now for the last several hours of this journey.

The jagged walls, the minerals protruding from them—thin, twisted veins of dull green and silver—begin to take shape around us as the tunnel brightens. But still… nothing. In this silence, though, I'm sure the creatures must have heard our footsteps by now. Even our breath. Yet they're not approaching. Or at least—I can't sense them doing so. Strange. Another fancy ambusher type? But it's not until I take the next step that I notice it. My back arches instantly—a green blur slicing air where my neck was.

I pivot sharply, both blades snapping up but I miss. The bastard is fast. Another blur from above. Claws? I sidestep. I sharpen my senses and correct my stance. I observe what little I can, my waves mapping vibrations on the ground as long claws scrape against it. But I sense interference in the EM field… Alright. No EM, then. I twist my waist, gathering momentum in my right arm, but keep the motion wide and slow, and feint with a quick thrust of my left sword.

The creature avoids the thrust, but the wide slash connects—it didn't see it coming. The force behind my slash is significant, but not all out… not yet. I feel resistance. It blocked with its claws, but its stance is poor. I stare at it, but the image is blurry. I cannot get a clear hold of its body structure—like the greenish light it generates isn't meant to give it away, but rather to conceal it. So no EM or eyesight either. I'll have to stick to sound alone. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

The information so far is crude. I need more data. I step back, avoiding a strike aimed at my abdomen, and retaliate with two quick swings—just wrists and forearms. Not much momentum behind them, but right now what I need is information about its shape and reaction times. The first swing meets empty air, but the second scrapes something solid. Hard, like bone plates layered closely together. I hear it hiss—a high, sharp sound. The creature shifts its weight forward.

Its feet drag against stone, claws rasping softly. I shift my stance slightly, adjusting angle and balance, listening carefully for the subtle cues hidden beneath the scraping steps. Then it lunges again. Fast, direct. I twist left, blade rising to parry. A satisfying clash rings through my arms. I twist my body sharply, driving my heel forward into the creature's midsection—sending it staggering back. I quickly estimate its weight from the resistance. Not heavy. A light, speed-oriented creature.

Long claws, arched back. My head snaps sideways, narrowly avoiding a thrust from behind. I rotate smoothly, my sword pommel aimed at its skull, but the bastard twists mid-air and takes the blow on its shoulder instead. Quick but not too smart, huh… I send Arjun a pulse, transmitting a precise 3D visual of exactly where and when I need a bullet. It's a strategy we worked out during our long hours traveling together, letting me seamlessly integrate his ranged support into my style, though we still improvise at times.

Milliseconds later, his bullet hits another creature lunging from my flank. It strikes the ankle precisely—destabilizing its balance—and before it can even register what's happening, my right sword slices upward, leveraging my body's full momentum toward its exposed neck. Contact. Resistance is significant—but my blade slices cleanly through. One down. But then the other… it flees. Seriously? I signal Arjun to stay alert. It might be going to call others.

Given their nature, it's suspicious for there to be only two this deep inside. Also… what do these things even eat? Minerals, perhaps? Is that feasible? I shake my head. Now isn't the time for intrusive thoughts. I open my eyes, crouching next to the corpse. My hand carefully trails over the creature's body. Its skin is rough, leathery, segmented into overlapping plates. Sharp protrusions run along its spine, curving downward like ridges.

Its limbs are lean, powerful—built for agility and rapid, explosive movements. The faint green hue is already dimming, fading slowly into darkness until visibility returns to pitch black. At least I have a sense of its body structure now.

"You want the orb?" I ask.

"You can have this one," Arjun replies. I nod, reverse my grip, and bash the pommel of my blade into its skull repeatedly until it cracks open. Good thing orbs don't shatter, no matter the force. The smell is horrid—sharp, acidic, metallic—far from the typical brain tissues of all the creatures I've killed so far. I extend my hand until it touches the orb. Stage 1 – 9. 157% Not bad.

"Let's keep—" I cross my blades, blocking the strike. My boots scrape against the rough ground. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I can detect more vibrations. A lot of noise—faint, but definitely there. There are many of them. I steady my breath. I know how wide the tunnel is, I know its structure. I know the size and body configuration of my enemies.

I visualize possible paths in my head: how they could crawl, how they'd lunge, the moves they'd likely make. I think like them—how would they take me down? What's the best approach? Hundreds of paths flash through my mind as my body recoils from the impact. Ok. I send pulses to Arjun. I know how quickly Arjun can shoot, and his reaction time, thanks to his Awakening, is as sharp as it gets.

I factor his timing into my patterns, mapping precisely the spots where I need him to shoot—not just to hit targets, but also to coordinate my own moves and control the flow. As my backward motion halts, I dig my right heel into the ground, cracking the stone beneath. I push Overdrive. Time stretches. Sound sharpens, each noise like drops of ink on a blank canvas. I see them now. More than half a dozen—likely more behind them. Arjun's first shot comes in.

It hits one creature precisely in the shoulder, throwing off its momentum. I bend my chest lower and dash forward. My swords blur. First strike low, aimed at a creature's ankle mid-lunge—clean hit, tendons split, balance broken. It crashes hard. Second shot from Arjun—perfect, piercing the skull of the next one lunging from above. Its body slams lifelessly onto the tunnel floor. I pivot sharply, left blade intercepting claws slicing from my flank. Sparks ignite, but I hold my stance, muscles flexing.

I counter with a pommel strike, cracking its jaw. It staggers. Another shot. A bullet drills through its knee. I spin, slicing upward. Deep gash—dark blood splatters. My heart pounds. Breath hot. Pulse thrumming in my ears. Three more close in simultaneously—angles calculated, each aiming for a kill. My mind maps trajectories instantly. I leap, blades whirling around me, deflecting two sets of claws while narrowly avoiding the third. Mid-air twist. Right blade slashes downward, cutting deeply into a neck.

Another gone. Feet land, slide slightly—Arjun's bullet whistles past, puncturing the second creature's chest. I pivot, heel grinding stone. Third creature lashes out. I drop low, momentum carrying me forward. Blade arcs, slices tendons at its knee. It stumbles, screeching. Now more come—four, five, six… too many. Arjun shifts higher, breath steady. He doesn't wait for my signal this time. His bullet fires before I even finish calculating the angle. Perfect. A pulse hits mid-step." I'm moving back.

I can't track them well—give me cover."" Got it." I pivot. Step wide. Blades up. Block the path. Draw the aggro. But there's too many of them... I need to push further. Dual Overdrive. The world crystallizes into precise calculations and instinctive reflexes. Each twitch, every motion, analyzed in real-time. I send continuous pulses to Arjun—rapid-fire communication, marking exact spots and timings. He responds flawlessly, bullets zipping past me with pinpoint accuracy.

One after another, creatures fall—knees shattered, heads pierced, joints severed. My blades weave seamlessly through each opening Arjun creates, exploiting every gap. Sweat pours down my face, muscles burn from exertion, yet my clarity grows sharper, the patterns clearer. A creature lunges low—I vault over, blades thrusting downward into its back as Arjun's shot passes cleanly above my head, striking another behind it squarely in the throat. I hit the ground rolling, fluidly transitioning into a sweeping kick.

Another enemy topples, its balance shattered. Arjun follows instantly—bullet drilling through its skull mid-fall. More creatures surge from the shadows. One slips past me—too low to track. I feel it shift toward Arjun.

"Left!" He drops flat as claws swipe through the space his head just left. A shot—point-blank. The creature crumples. Good. I focus on the rest. One charges from the left, my heel stomps into a shallow depression I memorized earlier, my stance dropping just low enough to let it overshoot. My blades flash upward, slicing deep into its side as Arjun's bullet grazes my shoulder, and tears through the neck of another lunging creature. My foot kicks a small rock upward, a fleeting distraction.

The creature's attention wavers—my pommel crashes against its jaw, driving its head sideways into a protruding spike of mineral. Its skull cracks audibly. Two more approach, synchronized from opposing angles. My blades blur—a feint draws their attacks simultaneously. I sidestep, sparks bursting as claws clash against stone. Their momentum carries them into each other. A quick twist, both blades severing critical tendons—then Arjun punctuates their fall, bullets piercing precisely between their vertebrae.

I leap sideways onto the wall, feet landing against a solid protrusion. Launching horizontally, my blades carve a clean arc through the air, decapitating a creature mid-flight as Arjun nails another's skull from below, synchronized to my landing. My feet barely touch ground before I spin low, blades crossing like scissors, slicing neatly through knees—bodies collapsing around me in sprays of dark blood and shattered cartilage. A claw suddenly grazes my ribs, slipping past the armor. Not deep—but enough to sting.

I hiss. Focus. A bullet zips too wide. Missed? No—he adjusted. I was too close. He didn't risk it. Smart. I'll give him the angle next time. I need to lock back into rhythm. One creature's claws rip through empty air where my neck was—already gone—my blade buried deep between its ribs. Another lunges high—too obvious—my foot slams upward in a ruthless kick, crushing its throat. My swords slash fluid cuts connecting seamlessly, linking every move, every strike, every breath into the same beautiful, brutal pattern.

Sweat streams down my neck, heartbeat pounding, adrenaline surging like fire in my veins—but my thoughts are ice-cold, precise, crystalline. Everything connects—every moment. Another creature tries to flank—futile. I'm already pivoting, blades tearing through its chest, my back to Arjun for a brief instant, fully trusting his bullet will slice past my ear, killing the enemy I know is approaching from behind. It does. I spin again—faster now, momentum increasing with each strike.

The creatures move slower, predictable. Every step leads to the next. Every death, a step in the sequence. I start to feel the flow. I'm getting there. I carve lines through the dark. Each strike a thread. Each step a knot. I twist my body, low slash. It dodges. Falls into the trap. I pivot left, spin through, stab right. Clean pierce. I break the blade free. Another leaps. I duck. Grab its throat. Slam. Use its weight. Turn it. Roll. Stab upward. Screech. Gone. I rise. More incoming. I move again.

The walls, the dips, the turns—they're mine. I remember them. I use them. Kick off a jagged ridge. Flip over two. Land with a slash. Cut deep. Blade hits spine. Yank free. Blood sprays. It blinds the next. I swing low. Its head rolls. The pieces click. Sequence by sequence. Strike by strike. Until the rhythm begins to stretch. Not just movement— Structure. A diagram of war. Arjun's bullets arc through the dark—comets streaking across the void. Each one carves space. Marks timing. Lights the edges.

The creatures are stars—clustered, wild. Their motion chaotic, but still… traceable. My blades sweep through them. Some stars dim. Others flicker. The trails connect. Patterns emerge. My steps follow old grooves in the ground. I leap from one point to the next. Foot to stone, slash to claw, breath to bullet. Each impact folds space tighter. The chaos simplifies. Not less deadly—just more clear. I think. I react. They integrate as one. Pulse. Shot. Step. Cut. I don't just fight with swords. I fight with terrain.

With allies. Even the pauses have weight. A ricochet guides my pivot. A broken claw drags one star into another. Arjun's fire traces my blind spots. Each motion is part of the same map. And I follow it. Faster. Tighter. I dive, spin, strike. Shoulder crashes into one—its skull cracks against a jag of metal on the wall. Another leaps—too late—my foot lands on its chest and I ride the weight down, blade driving through its sternum. Blood sprays across the tunnel wall. Another path forms. I shift into it.

Each corpse I leave behind shifts the gravity of the field. Pulls the next attack off-balance. Creates drag. I lean into it. Become the pull. Until finally— The noise fades. The stars settle. And I'm standing alone. Breath sharp. Blades wet. Knees bent. Arms slacken. The battle is over. They are all dead.