Watching the vehicles disappear into the distance, the director of the National Bureau of Spiritual Energy in the Imperial Capital let out a sigh.
"They're all gone, then."
"Yes… all gone."
"Except for the espers who must stay to protect the city, every other fighter has left…"
At his side, a middle-aged man spoke with a complicated look on his face.
"I don't know how many of them will be able to come back this time."
As if something had occurred to him, the director gave a wry shake of his head.
"They'll be back. They'll all be back," the middle-aged man said softly. "With Skyler Quinn and the others, a crisis like Haicheng's alone can be resolved with ease."
"But if you add it…"
When they thought of that immense figure out upon the sea—the one that had shattered Haicheng—no one said another word.
No matter how much confidence they had in Skyler and the rest, they could not be sure of victory.
The cruellest truth of all: when immortals fight, mortals suffer.
With power like theirs, even the aftershocks of battle were not something just anyone could endure.
Even if Skyler and the others restrained themselves, what about that mutated sea beast?
Do not forget—it possessed intelligence as well.
So all they could do for those who had gone was sigh, and then offer, deep in their hearts, their most sincere blessings.
As time slipped by, the fighting in Haicheng grew ever more brutal.
More and more mutated sea beasts climbed from the ocean onto land and launched ferocious assaults on the city.
By now, Haicheng was a single tangle of carnage. Humans, mutated sea beasts, even mutated rats and the like were all tangled together in slaughter.
Like this moment—
"Even if I die, I'm taking you with me!"
A powerfully built man glared savagely at the mutated crab before him. The thing stood four or five meters tall, forcing him to crane his neck. Had rage not drowned out his fear, he would never have shouted such words.
He would have turned and run at once.
But when he thought of his wife and daughter, already killed by these beasts—devoured to the last scrap of their bodies—his vision went red. He hefted his broadsword and chopped down at the crab.
"Clang!"
The sound was like metal striking metal. The blade didn't leave so much as a scratch on the mutated crab—not even a flicker of pain.
The crab showed no emotion at all. There was a crisp crack, and its claw scissored the man neatly in two.
Then it picked up the corpse and stuffed it into its mouth.
One could not see eyes on its face, but there was unmistakably a look of relish.
"Beast!"
An esper from the Bureau of Spiritual Energy nearby saw this scene and tried to intervene, only to be blocked by other mutated sea creatures in a heartbeat—and then a mutated sea snake bit down on his neck. Creatures swarmed from all sides, and he vanished beneath them.
Because it had struck first, the sea snake swallowed the most corpses. Its aura shifted abruptly, surging to a far higher level.
Between humans and mutated creatures, each was food to the other.
When humans ate the meat of mutated beasts, their cultivation sped up; their strength grew.
Mutated creatures, by devouring human corpses, likewise accelerated their cultivation and increased their power.
And because during the first aura tide humanity had been the most favored—nearly everyone had awakened an ability—even weaklings held a certain store of spiritual energy.
Thus, to mutated creatures, every human was the finest of food.
The killing in Haicheng was mutual: humans slew many mutated sea beasts, and the beasts slew many humans.
The only difference was that the human side had no time to harvest the creatures they killed. They needed to slay more, and rescue more civilians. The mutated beasts were under no such pressure.
When they killed humans, they devoured them at once; when they came upon the carcasses of other mutated beasts, they ate those too.
So in this war, for a hundred different reasons, the human side would grow weaker and weaker—while the sea beasts would only grow stronger.
"Hissss…"
Regret gleamed in the cold eyes of that mutated sea snake.
Humans grew addicted to the flesh of mutated beasts; mutated beasts could become addicted to human flesh, too.
They rarely got to taste the flesh of true powerhouses, but ordinary people—whose bodies held spiritual energy yet were exceedingly weak—were absolutely the best food.
They were numerous, and they posed no threat.
Nor was this sea snake, or that crab just now, the only creature profiting from the battlefield. Innumerable mutated sea beasts gained enormous benefits by devouring human bodies.
One or two—or even ten or twenty—ordinary people made little difference.
But a hundred? Two hundred? A thousand?
And among them were the warriors of the Bureau of Spiritual Energy, men and women with gifts far greater than the norm—whose bodies held far more spiritual energy than those of ordinary folk.
But the ones who profited were not only the mutated creatures.
Between life and death there is not only terror—there is also great opportunity.
At that moment, in one corner of Haicheng—
"Pff!"
A cold-faced youth was swatted flying by a mutated crab and slammed hard into a wall. Blood surged up in his throat and spilled over his lips.
"Bro!"
Beside him, a girl of fourteen or fifteen cried out in panic. She looked at the two-meter-tall crab, clenched her teeth, and put her body between it and the youth.
"Little Sis—back!"
Seeing what she was doing, the boy's face changed. He reached to pull her behind him—but the pain wracking his body left him with no strength at all.
"Bro, we'll die together."
The girl forced down her fear and smiled at him.
"Bang!"
As if that smile had roused something buried deep, strength came to the boy from nowhere. He flung the girl aside with all his might.
"Run!"
"Hurry—run!"
"Who wants to die with you?"
Bent over, the youth spoke in a cold, hard voice.
He hated himself—hated that he had no talent for abilities, that the power he awakened had been the weakest of the weak: light.
It had no offensive power, none of that so-called sacred or healing effect.
It was just ordinary light. In the daytime, no one could even see it when he used it.
At night, it could illuminate a little more than a flashlight—nothing else.
This was not the ability he wanted. He wanted power that could protect his sister in a world gone mad.
No matter what the world became, he would protect her.
It was a promise he had made with her when they were children.
But now—that promise was about to shatter.
"Why? Why give me this ability?!"
"What use is this useless light to me?"
Right now, he almost wished the devils of legend truly existed—at least then he could trade his soul for the power to protect his sister.
But there were no devils.
(End of this chapter)