Chapter 607: Hidden Threat
Alex and Zahra began combing the devastated battlefield for traces of Ozythar.
They patiently searched, understanding that finding the physical remains was going to be a time-consuming task, since the Serpent King, with his immense physical resilience, was not one to get injured so easily, and what little might have lingered had already been scoured away by the End Storm that tore across this land.
All they uncovered was the presence of the three kings. Brittle heaps of undead bones, craters glazed into crystal by devastating lightning, and deep, winding ravines carved into the earth, some bearing patterns reminiscent of a serpent’s coils pressing into the land.
One thing, however, worked in their favor. Ozythar had fought in his true form rather than his hybrid, humanoid shape, which made the chances of him leaving behind physical remnants far greater than they would have been otherwise.
Zahra led them deeper, following the scattered trail of ruin. From time to time, she paused, scanning the ground, her eyes pale and unblinking in their altered state.
Nearly four hours passed this way until at last, their search was rewarded.
They found a single scale hidden deep within a collapsed area, broad and gleaming like a shard of obsidian. Its surface bore a deep wound, torn as if by the piercing bite of fangs or the point of a weapon.
More importantly, streaked on its back clung remnants of dark, viscous blood, potent with lingering vitality, proving it belonged to the serpent king.
Until then, Zahra had been relying on her True Sight, a powerful but imperfect tool, ill-suited to following a trail, being more suited to uncovering truth from lies.
But now, with blood and physical remains in hand, she changed her approach and began using a skill called Blood Calling, a skill capable of tracking an individual for hundreds of miles.
However, finding physical remains didn’t mean their troubles were over, it was only a step in the right direction.
Ozythar was no mere weakling; he was a peak Eight Rank Ruler, and although injured and weakened, he was still capable of cloaking his presence behind layers of defenses.
Against most trackers, such barriers would have been insurmountable.
But Zahra was not just one of the normal trackers. She possessed every possible means one could think of, and even those that shouldn’t exist. With her, it was not a question of if Ozythar would be found, but only when.
Their search took them to the northeastern section of Rage Island, far away from the scars left by the End Storm and the remnants left by the battle of the kings.
The different direction alone told them they were moving in the right direction, since after freeing from the grasp of the end storm, Ozythar would have taken shelter far away from its course.
Since the island itself housed no beasts or native threats, the duo faced no danger in their search. Yet the land itself was hostile, as lightning cracked down like rain, while sudden typhoons howled across the terrain, shredding stone as easily as cloth.
Even more insidious was the island’s curse, the steady unraveling of their minds. Each step eroded calm, each breath tugged at anger buried deep, until composure felt like a flame fighting the wind.
After roaming the island for nearly ten hours, Zahra guided Alex into a naturally formed ravine, its mouth yawning like a scar in the earth. They found an entrance within it that gave way to a long, winding tunnel stretching for nearly two kilometers before opening into a vast underground expanse.
The cavern was not drowned in shadow but bathed in a faint crimson glow. The light came not from naturally formed crystals, but from massive pillars of an unknown stone fixed against the walls, holding the vast ceiling far above.
Bathing in the crimson glow lay an entire city. Its design was medieval, housing dark stone towers, arched bridges, and cobbled streets. Some districts had collapsed beneath fallen ceilings, while others lay buried beneath fallen crimson pillars.
Yet much of the city remained eerily intact, preserved like a ghost town surrendered to time.
Alex was not surprised by the sight before him. Zahra had already spoken of these hidden ruins, cities buried beneath the island, safe from the endless storms above.
However, these places were not as empty as they seemed. The cities, not the entire island, housed rage ghosts, soulless phantoms that took form when intruders lost themselves to anger.
One’s turbulent emotions acted as their fuel, giving shape and weight to soulless entities that attacked anyone and anything living around them.
They could manifest anywhere on the island, acting as the final warning to trespassers. Leave or be consumed. They were the true bane of Rage Island and the reason why life could not survive here.
"He is close," Zahra said, her voice steady as her pale-red eyes scanned the crimson glow. "We should be able to locate him in just a few more hours."
"Thanks for your hard work," Alex replied earnestly. Then, after a pause, he said, "Let’s rest first and recover. We will need to be at our best when we face him, because it’s likely that we will also have to deal with rage operations given form by him."
"Let’s set camp and eat," Zahra said with a small smile. "If you are interested, I can tell you about the supposed origin of this forsaken land."
Together they descended into the silent city, choosing the tallest intact building as their perch. A heating stove was set, a table and two chairs placed upon the roof, their camp an island of faint warmth against the cavern’s crimson glow.
Alex decided to heat precooked soup, toast a few pieces of bread, and roast fresh meat, and while their food was being prepared, he silently listened to Zahra recount the myths of Rage Island’s birth.
While the duo rested, in the distant shadows, unseen eyes silently observed the two, a pair of piercing blue orbs, cold and calculating. Zarach watched in silence, hidden among the fractured ruins.
’Who is she?’ he wondered, his gaze narrowing on Zahra. ’She is undoubtedly an otherworlder, but since she is so extraordinary, why have I never heard of her?’
He recounted the details he had seen with a slight frown. ’She carries the scent of fate, but now it’s gone, like she was borrowing it to fulfil her needs.’
’Maybe her gifts lean toward being able to copy others’ traits, but that alone wouldn’t explain the presence of fate she carries.’
His thoughts turned as his eyes rested on Alex. ’Aeon is definitely the one who hired her help, and he is clearly after Ozythar. But what’s the aim?’
’The Dark Slate... most likely. Still, I doubt this uneducated fool even knows that the slate is forged from Eclipse Matter, and even if he did, what could he possibly do with it?’
’He must want the text written upon it,’ A thin frown marked Zarach’s youthful face. ’Or maybe there’s some other treasure in Ozythar’s possession that I am unaware of.’
Zarach chuckled, a chill threading his voice.’In any case, I will find out soon enough.’
He then raised his head, his eyes changing color, turning colorless gray, and with that, silver threads stretched into his vision, countless spiderlike strands of fate.
Among the dozens of threats, several of them at the center were stained black from their midpoint onward, slowly creeping closer to him with every passing moment.
’Death is always one of the fates when facing Aeon,’ He chuckled, the sound light yet edged with a sober undercurrent. ’But the girl with him is unknown and dangerous, so this fate might come true if I am to act hastily,’
Then, almost suddenly, his lips curled into a smile, innocent and childlike, but twisted at its edges. ’But who said I need to face them at all? Let them deal with the serpent. Let them bleed and tire themselves. I’ll take the slate and vanish before they even realize what’s happened.’
A chuckle slipped from him, low and sharp. ’It would be amusing to see Aeon suffer a setback now, when we are so close to the deadline of our duel.’
’Yes... a humiliation like that might very well be the nail in the coffin that forces him to accept.’ The blue of his eyes glinted brighter in the crimson dark, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Unaware of the threat shadowing their every move, Alex and Zahra rested for nearly three hours before packing their camp and pressing deeper into the underground expanse, an endless channel of forgotten cities strung together like pearls in the dark.
From the ruins behind, Zarach lingered unseen. Hidden as though he were part of the shadows themselves, he trailed them in silence, a patient ghost waiting for the perfect moment to strike and claim the prize he had come to collect.