Chapter 156: Siege against the Village
Far from the quiet village where Elton sat cultivating, his surging aura swept across the distance like a tide. Those with sharp senses felt it first. Those with sharper instincts began moving.
…
Inside the dimly lit interior of a jagged stone fortress carved into a cliffside, a group of robed figures abruptly paused their discussion.
A tall man with a gold-plated staff slowly turned his head toward the west, his eyes narrowing.
"You feel that?" his voice was low but carried authority.
A younger woman at his side grinned, her long black hair swaying as she leaned forward.
"Not just feel it—taste it. That's either a breakthrough… or a fool flashing a treasure."
The man's lips curved into something between a smirk and a snarl. "In this place, both are invitations to be stripped bare."
Without another word, Twenty figures stood, their robes shifting to reveal concealed weapons. The leader's final order echoed in the hall:
"Prepare for immediate departure. If someone's ascending in our hunting ground, we'll claim them before the beasts or the zealots get there."
…
Within the shadowed spires of a temple surrounded by black mist, a congregation knelt in silence before a crimson altar.
A gaunt priest lifted his head sharply, his nose flaring as the foreign pressure swept over the temple grounds.
"…An unblessed one dares to stir the heavens here?" he whispered in outrage.
The robed disciples around him shifted uneasily, gripping their curved daggers.
"Your Reverence?" one asked.
The priest's voice grew feverish. "The will of the abyss guides us. We will drown this pretender's light before it blasphemes further. Ready the mounts—swiftly."
The crimson altar flared briefly, as if in agreement, bathing their faces in blood-red glow.
…
High above the tangled treetops, a massive winged serpent circled lazily… until its slit-pupiled eyes snapped toward the direction of Elton's aura.
From the dense undergrowth below, howls and guttural roars erupted as dozens of forms emerged—horned bears, scaled wolves, and creatures without names, each brimming with murderous instinct.
A black-maned lion the size of a small house bellowed to the gathering horde:
"That light—there is either prey worth feasting upon or treasure worth killing for! Move!"
The ground trembled as the pack began their rush, crashing through trees and snapping boulders in their path.
…
On a narrow ridge overlooking the fog-filled valleys, four figures stood silent. The one in front—a tall Leopard demi-human with mottled golden fur—took a slow breath before removing a tattered scrap of cloth from his belt.
He lifted it to his nose, inhaling deeply. A faint, burning scent lingered, mixed with a lingering Ki aura.
His feline eyes narrowed to slits.
Behind him, a grey-skinned woman with long white hair and curved claws tilted her head in curiosity.
"Recognize the one roaring over the horizon?"
The Leopard demi-human's voice was low and steady.
"I do. This aura… belongs to someone the juniors of my tribe fought nearly five years ago."
He turned his gaze to the woman. "And if I'm not mistaken, your tribe shed blood to that same one and his group."
Her eyes gleamed faintly. She gave a half-shrug. "Maybe so. Doesn't matter much to me. But… if they're here, we may as well deal with them in passing."
The second Leopard demi-human, younger and leaner, stepped forward with a wary look.
"We won't be the only ones moving toward them. Others will go there, too."
The leader's tail flicked once, his killing intent spilling out like heat from an open forge.
"Then we'll make sure we get there first. Move."
The four shapes vanished into the mist, each step taking them closer to the village—and the storm building within.
Time bled away, but Elton remained unmoving, his cultivation like a storm building in place—Ki and magic surging in waves, each pulse heavier than the last.
From her position near the edge of Shayleaf's summoned grove, Tongsheng's expression shifted sharply.
Her ears twitched. Her eyes narrowed toward the treeline.
"Someone's coming," she called, voice like a drawn bowstring. "We must prepare."
Shayleaf's worry didn't slow her hands. Threads of magic laced into the roots and branches of her summoned forest, thickening the barrier's strength. Leaves shimmered faintly as the grove became sharper, deadlier.
Christy stayed planted beside Elton, but the soft concern in her eyes hardened into an edge. Killing intent rolled off her in steady waves—if anyone breached the grove, they'd pay in blood.
Not a minute later, Tongsheng stiffened again. "Tch… damn. More from another direction."
Her hands blurred through a chant, dozens of powerful symbols entrenched on her arrows. Each one shimmered with the kind of precision that promised instant death.
Shayleaf doubled down, weaving hidden plant familiars into the surrounding foliage, ready to strike the moment an enemy set foot in range.
Both approaching forces slowed when they reached the grove's outer reach, clearly sensing danger. They began to spread out, testing the perimeter instead of charging recklessly.
Then the air changed.
A heavier tread. Sharper intent. From the third direction came the Leopard demi-human's group with four in number, their leader walking as though no enemy in around could match his stride. The weight of their aura drew every eye.
Christy, Shayleaf, and Tongsheng exchanged grim looks. This group was different.
Before they could react further, the sound of the world tearing open rolled over the grove—thunderous roars from the horizon.
From above the canopy, the massive winged serpent descended like a falling star, the black-maned lion riding atop its skull. Behind them, the landscc writhed with the stampede of demonic beasts, their momentum tearing through brush and stone alike.
The first force's leader—the man with the gold-plated staff—snarled, eyes flashing.
"Damn it. The beasts came after all. Don't let them get in our way!"
His followers answered as one, breaking into a run, weapons flashing.
The priest of the second force stared coldly at the chaos forming in the grove's shadow.
"Oh Dark Lord, grant us the strength to purge the filth and seize the sanctified prize…"
The response was a chilling, unified cry. "Bless us, Reverend!"
They spurred their mounts forward, magic flaring around them.
Above, the lion roared again, its voice rattling the ground, while the serpent's wings cut great swaths of wind through the treetops.
The Leopard demi-human leader smiled thinly, his power flaring in reply. His group surged forward—straight through the chaos, attacking anyone who dared to block their path.
They didn't have to get far.
With a sound like lightning splitting a mountain, six of Tongsheng's arrows cut through the air.
The first arrow slammed down toward the gold-plated staff wielder's group. Four overlapping barriers sprang up to meet it—only to shriek and splinter as the arrow punched through, detonating with a shockwave that scattered them. Some fell wounded, others staggered but still standing, pushing forward against the bite of Shayleaf's plants.
The priest's force met a similar fate, their own defensive wards cracking under the impact. They pressed on, blood marking their path.
Two arrows found the demonic beasts—one exploding in the air against the serpent's wind barrier, the force knocking the beast and its lion rider back through the clouds; the other tore through the lands, erasing a swath of charging beasts in a cloud of dust and gore.
The Leopard demi-human's group caught the last two arrows. They deflected them, but even in their speed and precision, the effort cost them—the weight behind those shots was far beyond what they expected.
And still, the arrows kept coming. Every few breaths, a new volley struck without warning, forcing each force to guard not only against Tongsheng's unerring aim but the creeping plant-army gnawing at their flanks.
Through it all, Elton sat in the grove's heart, his aura thickening, refining. In the chaos around him, the change in his power was almost imperceptible… but it was there.