Chương 21: Ancient Seed

Nero's mind raced with all sorts of thoughts at the arrival of his new opponent. By the color of its skin, he was a hundred percent sure the creature was one of those famed Lesser Onis, the evolved forms of goblins. What Nero didn't understand was where and which hole it had crawled out of. The creature eyed him with a sort of intent that all but assured him of his possible fate.

The girl on its back was dropped to the side like a bag of rice, and Nero immediately pumped his body full of pristine Aura and made a run out of the village. The moment he'd cleared several meters of distance, the creature again burst into a terrifying sprint. Within moments it was upon him, its fist barreling forward like some ballista. He jumped to the side; as it passed over, he quickly rolled out of that spot too, its feet slamming into the position a moment later.

Standing back up, he broke into another mad dash, but this time his target was the woods. The creature seemed to freeze in place for a second, its knees buckling.

"It appears to be in pain?" His eyes rapidly scanned the creature's body while he put more distance between them, using its halt in pace to his advantage. There's zero wound on its body, so why is it acting as if something has slashed its kneecap? The creature looked back up from the ground, its sharp, almost intelligent eyes scanning him before turning back to eye another corpse—an old man with a long beard.

This one's head was intact, and for whatever reason, the goblins hadn't dared sever it and put it on the spikes. He couldn't pin down what was up with this situation. But at this point, he didn't care; he quickly slipped into the forest. And then he stopped to check on the situation. The creature was back on its feet and was slowly walking toward him, while the white-haired girl was slowly crawling over to the body of the old man. At that, things finally clicked in his head.

It was extremely likely that the old man was her father or grandfather. And the fact that the creature was merely walking was strange—there was a possibility that the old man had fought it and inflicted some sort of internal injury before passing. But then, why hadn't the goblins destroyed its body, and why was the Oni looking back at it as if conflicted over whether to attack him or that supposedly dead corpse?

His's mind worked to answer it, but before he could reach any sort of conclusion, he found the creature resuming its sprint, scrambling toward him rapidly.

"Seems like it's made up its mind." He said this with a pained smile and ran deeper into the forest. Behind him, he heard the sounds of trees—something breaking through the branches and wood, the sounds of cracking growing ever closer. To keep the thing from gaining more momentum, Nero began to run in a zigzag pattern through the densest parts of the jungle. Through the cat-and-mouse chase, he increasingly noticed some peculiar traits of the Lesser Oni he hadn't known before.

First was the Oni brute-forcing its way through obstacles, accumulating more and more small injuries on its body. The other part being its internal wound, or whatever had been inhibiting it from the get-go, wasn't only concentrated in its knees. It would often clutch its own shoulders and joints in pain, crying out with such intensity the noise alone threatened to burst his eardrums. He kept up his sprint, trying to gain distance.

But despite all his efforts, he was unable to make any meaningful headway, while simultaneously growing ever more exhausted. Gotta come up with something... Taking in all the information, Nero reached a workable conclusion. The Oni was hell-bent on killing him, likely because of his Aura of Decay, which resembled the Aura of the Immortal Boundless Essence from 'Tales of Immortals'.

The fact that it had initially hesitated over whether to pursue him or the old man implied, even if barely, that the old man was perhaps still alive. It had chased him only out of spite, and probably from the notion that it could easily run him down, finish him off, and then get back to dealing with the old man. Its chain of decisions was sound; the only issue was underestimating his pristine Aura and how much amplification it could provide.

Nero was certain it could boost his strength by a full hundred percent, and if he concentrated it along certain specific parts of his body, the amplification effects could climb even further. But that wouldn't do him any good if he kept amplifying his sprinting speed by strengthening his lower body. Mainly because the terrain of the forest he was running through was injuring him too, albeit at a lesser rate due to his smaller frame.

The problem was that the monster could maintain that speed for at least an hour, while he could keep this up for five more minutes at best. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. After dealing with the mobs, I'd barely been able to recover before this thing jumped my ass. There was nothing he could do about the thing pursuing him—well, maybe not nothing, but running wasn't going to earn him any dice either way.

Nero took a sharp turn and moved toward a larger tree to his right. The Oni burst right through the branches of those trees and came to a halt. Eyeing its surroundings, it spotted Nero standing a few meters away, his sword glowing with Decaying Green and his arms sizzling with silvery, pristine Aura. He took a deep breath and pointed his sword at the Oni ahead.

"Better to die like a man, fighting, than to die running… I guess~" The Oni snorted at his overly confident self-talk and charged forward. Nero focused the Pristine Aura of his body directly into his arms and legs exclusively, and dashed forward too.

"High risk, high reward," he said, pumping more adrenaline into his heart. If there was one thing that could motivate an adventurer to fight to the death, it was either women, riches or strength. For Nero, the answer was obvious.

"Hand over your genes!" …. [Sylvia's Father POV] Hidden [Gene Talent]. That was the first accomplishment of Zyran's life that had set him apart from the rest of the villagers. Upon reaching the age of ten, he'd awakened the Gene Talent that had been lost within his family since a generation ago—the gene talent of his forefathers, Ancient Seed. A gene talent that allowed him to plant seeds on beings he'd struck even once.

The seeds took some time to produce tendrils and roots, but once the roots took hold within the opponent he'd struck, they'd feel excruciating pain continuously. The roots were both physical and spiritual in nature, making them exceptionally difficult to remove for those lacking expertise in both aspects. With this ability in tow, Zyran had risen up like a dragon. Sweeping through the various tournaments held around the seventh district, he'd traveled across the lands, clearing hundreds of dungeons.

His reputation soared through the seventh circle by the time he reached adulthood. Even the Great Elder of the Nether World Sect had personally sent disciples to his house to recruit him—something unheard of, since the Nether World Sect's headquarters lay in the Heavenly City, the famed City of Silver, the last bastion of humanity.

Naturally, he'd agreed instantly and had later gone on to take the sect entrance exam, competing alongside the sons and daughters of nobles who had relatives at the Silver and even Gold rank. Overshadowing them all, he'd taken the top spot as an Ace, earning enough spirit stones to break through to the Awakened Beast Core within a single night! He'd felt invincible as the energy of the world, mana, burst forth into him, seeping into each of his muscles, tendons, and bones.

He'd go on to attain contribution points upon contribution points, rising through the sect's leaderboard until he was second only among the direct disciples in terms of sect contribution. But that was the end—the summit of his accomplishments. Things went downhill from there. To climb further and take the first spot, surpassing the child librarian of the sect, he'd gone ahead and taken up a quest far above his level, despite the precautionary advice attached to it.

The librarian, referred to by most disciples as the Great Sun, could handle it. In fact, he'd completed many such S-grade tasks and was known for only taking those. And so Zyran had taken up the quest and journeyed to the great wilds that lay beyond the twelfth circle. After much difficulty, and a year spent working on it, he'd managed to complete it, even if barely, straining his core to such an extent that it wouldn't even function until he'd fully recuperated. And that had been his mistake.

On the way back to the City of Silver, he'd been surrounded and beaten so badly by his fellow disciples that he'd fallen into a coma for exactly three months. It was his teacher, Elder Asura, who'd taken care of him until he regained consciousness, and who'd even brought the disciples responsible for the whole affair to justice. But it was all for naught, because they'd managed to cripple his foundation, dropping his core back to the Awakened stage.

And the City of Silver didn't allow such low-leveled beings within its vicinity. So he'd left, granted some plot of land to establish his own village, and married a good woman to build a family of his own. And now he lay here, barely able to feel his daughter's warm hand over his. Inspecting his inner beast core, it was practically shattered—the creature knew a qi-based Cypher Art, allowing it to cripple him in a single blow. A Lesser Oni, huh.

In his youth, he'd roamed the world and eradicated entire tribes of True Onis. So what was a lesser Oni?! He felt indignant—indignant that he'd let his daughter nearly die at the hands of that beast. Indignant that he'd grown so weak that he'd let a mere lesser being touch his face. Indignant that the being who'd orchestrated all this would go on to kill the one child who'd saved the remaining, vulnerable people of his village. Am I really going to die like this? With all these regrets and failures?

Have I really become that pathetic? That weak? The creature had crippled his mana channels, blocking both inflow and outflow. The shock of the attack had knocked him unconscious when it had struck him from behind. If he pushed himself, he'd certainly destroy his own mana channels within minutes, and the side effects of that would make his beast core explode from the stress. But for a sparse few moments before his death, he'd be able to use his abilities.

Zyran's lips parted at that conclusion, with a grin, he made up his mind. The dormant mana that hadn't stirred even while he sliced and diced through the endless hordes of goblins that had assaulted his precious village since its founding was finally unleashed. Lines of white runes of destruction spread across Zyran's body—his remaining potential shot toward the heavens, parting the clouds above. He finally stood up.

"Fa-Father?" Sylvia said, her voice cracked and filled with sorrow. He pulled her into his embrace.

"Don't worry, my child. From henceforth, I'll let no harm come to you." The tendrils of his remaining mana and potential seeped into his daughter through the mana. Reaching deep into her dormant core, they tore open the seal of mortality. Her hair became suffused with mana, floating freely, as all of her accumulated wounds faded to nothing. Releasing his daughter, Zyran turned toward the forest. He picked up his spear, which had fallen a few feet away, and imbued it with a spell before handing it over to Sylvia.

"What's this for, father?" Zyran gave her a smile—an endearing, loving smile.

"A gift. Hold onto it tightly. I'll be back soon." Saying this, Zyran began his journey toward the distant field of battle. And in the endless darkness of the forest, where the lights of purple and green fought relentlessly, the white light of the end and destruction finally joined the fray.