Chapter 280: The Shaman's Crimson Threads

The village fared no better. Terrified screams echoed between the houses as people scrambled for anything sturdy enough to hold on to, desperately seeking shelter from the violent tremors shaking the ground beneath their feet.

Yet amid the chaos, the old shaman stood remarkably still.

She watched the unfolding catastrophe with an unsettling calm, her aged eyes slowly turning toward the distant hill where Max struggled to maintain his grip.

A peculiar smile crept across her wrinkled lips, neither entirely amused nor sinister, but something difficult to distinguish between the two.

Her fingers began to dance through the air, one after another, as strange crimson strands emerged from their tips and drifted away like spider silk carried by an autumn breeze. The delicate threads floated through the village, weaving between the fleeing people and avoiding every obstacle with an almost deliberate precision, as though each possessed a will of its own.

Meanwhile, Antiope’s group remained locked in battle with Myrina.

The tremors grew increasingly violent, splitting the ground beneath their feet and sending cracks crawling across the walls of nearby houses. Roofs collapsed, wooden beams splintered, and the village they had all sworn to protect was being torn apart around them.

“Why are you doing all of this? For power? Do you wish to become chieftain so desperately that you’d kill your own sister to claim the position? Or is it fear?”

Myrina’s questions made Antiope bite her lower lip, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Are you so afraid that our people might choose me over your barbaric methods?”

For a brief moment, Antiope appeared to hesitate. Her lips parted as though she intended to answer, but whatever words had gathered on her tongue never escaped.

Her expression hardened.

“Shut up! You know nothing about me!”

A brilliant green light erupted from Antiope’s body, spreading across her skin before gathering into a dense layer of shimmering energy. The radiance thickened around her arms and shoulders, forming the spectral contours of a powerful feline beast, its translucent features overlapping her own like a second body.

Her fingers curled, and elongated claws of green light extended beyond her fingertips. A faint pattern resembling a tigress’s stripes spread across the luminous armor, while two pointed ears took shape above her head, formed entirely from the same flowing energy.

Antiope’s appearance remained largely unchanged beneath the manifestation, yet the power radiating from her had increased tremendously.

A fierce roar escaped her lips, carrying the unmistakable ferocity of a tigress.

Seeing this, Myrina summoned her own power.

A deep blue radiance surged from her body, flowing across her limbs and gathering around her shoulders and chest. Like Antiope’s manifestation, the energy gradually assumed the shape of a great feline, wrapping around her figure as though an invisible beast had lent her its form.

The spectral outline of a puma emerged around her, its sleek, muscular contours fitting closely over her body. Blue claws extended beyond her hands, while a long, translucent tail swayed behind her, following her movements with an almost lifelike grace.

Where Antiope’s green aura burned fiercely, Myrina’s blue radiance remained steady, its smooth movements suggesting a quieter, more controlled strength.

Yet unlike her sister, Myrina showed no anger.

A single tear gathered at the corner of her eye as she watched Antiope prepare to strike. For a brief moment, her expression softened, and beneath the blue radiance surrounding her, she looked less like a warrior preparing for battle and more like a sister struggling to recognize the person standing before her.

A violent tremor suddenly tore through the ground between them, opening a narrow fissure that raced toward the nearest houses. Both women shifted their footing, their spectral claws digging into the earth as they struggled to remain standing.

Behind them, another building collapsed, sending a cloud of dust rolling across the village.

Myrina glanced toward the destruction, her expression darkening as she heard the frightened cries of their people.

“Look around you, Antiope!” she shouted, turning back toward her sister. “Everything we swore to protect is falling apart, and you’re still determined to fight me!”

But Antiope offered no answer.

The green radiance surrounding her flared, and the spectral tigress lowered itself with her, its luminous claws digging deeper into the trembling ground.

Whatever hesitation she had shown moments earlier was gone.

The women standing behind Antiope exchanged uncertain glances. They had been confident in their ability to overpower Myrina while she slept, defenseless and unaware of their intentions. But now that she had summoned her beast manifestation, they knew better than to interfere. None of them stood a chance against her in a direct confrontation.

One by one, they began to retreat, carefully distancing themselves from the two sisters before turning their attention toward the collapsing village.

They hurried to help the others, pulling frightened villagers away from damaged houses and assisting those who had fallen amid the violent tremors. It was something their own leader, the woman they had sworn to follow, seemed to have forgotten entirely.

The realization left a bitter taste in their mouths, yet none dared to voice their doubts. Not here, and certainly not while Antiope was preparing to fight her own sister.

Meanwhile, far from the confrontation, Max suddenly felt an unfamiliar presence approaching him from the direction of the village.

Before he could determine its source, several crimson strands drifted through the air and wrapped themselves around his limbs. More followed, winding around his chest and shoulders until his entire body was tightly bound.

“What the hell?!”

Max struggled against the threads, but they only tightened in response, pressing against his ribs until even drawing a breath became difficult. He tried to tear them apart with brute force, yet the delicate strands refused to yield, their seemingly fragile appearance concealing a strength that far exceeded his expectations.

Then, just as he prepared to struggle again, an unfamiliar voice reached his ears.

“Don’t struggle, stranger. It’s pointless, especially with your current strength.”

Max froze.

The voice belonged to an elderly woman, calm and strangely composed despite the catastrophe unfolding around them.

“I require your assistance,” she continued. “We must stop the awakening of the ancient god before it is too late. Otherwise, everything you see around you will cease to exist.”

The crimson threads tightened slightly, as though reminding him of his helpless position.

“And don’t think you can simply escape. Once the ancient god begins gathering its power, the resulting cosmic pressure will descend upon this entire land. With your current strength, even your body will be crushed beneath it.”