Village Head's Debauchery

Chapter 162 A Warrior’s Growth (3)



Witnessing another manifestation of Grim’s shape-shifting gift, Orion couldn’t help but speculate, ‘This must be the final transformation he hasn’t mastered controlling yet.’ Nevertheless, the curiosity surrounding Grim’s transformation didn’t deter the rest of the group from charging forward, fully aware of the imminent danger.

Ursa ascended into the sky, tightly clutching her dagger before propelling herself forward with a momentary hesitation. Tala, on the other hand, surged ahead with bursts of vibrant green fire erupting beneath her feet, augmenting her speed and scorching the ashen ground in her wake. Gorg sprinted forward, his grip firm on his dagger as he mercilessly aimed at the encroaching Vylkr vines.

Orion refused to be left behind and promptly activated his own gift, witnessing lightning flicker and dance from his hands, imbuing the surrounding ground with crackling energy. Just as he prepared to join the fray, a sudden idea struck him, causing him to abruptly halt his steps and take aim at the approaching Vylkr vines, which were already engaged by the group. Ensuring his aim was as accurate as possible, he allowed the fusion of Vylkr energy and the strange energy within him to surge through his arms before propelling it forward with focused precision. .

“Boooom!” The resounding sonic explosion reverberated in Orion’s ears, accompanying the dagger’s rapid propulsion at such incredible speed that all he and the group could perceive was a fleeting blur. A scorched and seared segment of multiple Vylkr vines plummeted to the ground, as did the dagger, accompanied by an outward dispersion of lightning, jolting and stinging nearby Vylkr vines. Delighted by the results, Orion wasted no time and surged forward, his hands crackling with lightning, heralding his approach.

Seizing the opportunity to put his theories to the test, he swung his right hand towards an oncoming Vylkr vine, his fingers tightly clenched and electrified. With a resounding “crackle,” his electrified fingers effortlessly cleaved through the vine in a single stroke, leaving him wide-eyed with astonishment. With another Vylkr vine in his peripheral vision, Orion swiftly turned and swung his hand again, witnessing it succumb to his lightning-infused swing, severed into disjointed fragments.

And so, he pressed on, obliterating and slicing through each Vylkr vine in his path until the once lively threats lay lifeless on the ground, their bodies charred to a crisp, reaching the spot where his dagger had landed. Retrieving it, Orion allowed his lightning to surge and rage fiercely around the blade once more, bolstering his confidence and stride as he charged relentlessly toward the remaining Vylkr vines, brimming with remarkable assurance.

Meanwhile, behind the group, Warrior Jean observed the scene unfold before him and couldn’t help but nod in acknowledgement. “Maybe it’s because they can sense the confidence radiating from everyone else and refuse to be left behind…” His gaze then shifted to Orion, who appeared to be delving deeper into himself, isolating his focus amidst the presence of the Vylkr vines. “If he can endure, it’s truly impressive. But if he falters, he’ll learn a valuable lesson through experience.”

Although he could discern the mistakes, they were all making, Warrior Jean saw no need to intervene or dampen their confidence by pointing out those errors. After all, their primary objective was to learn how to eradicate and destroy the Vylkr vines while ensuring the safety of their own lives and the lives of their comrades. Anything beyond that was currently insignificant because as long as they achieved that goal, his role as their teacher would be fulfilled.

However, Tala discovered that her flames were more effective in reducing the Vylkr vines to ashes compared to the daggers. Instead of laboriously stabbing and cutting through the vines one by one, she opted to unleash her fiery prowess and burn them into oblivion. In the midst of her fiery assault, Grim noticed the disappearing vines and swiftly reverted to his human form, abandoning his imposing serpent-like figure with vibrant colourful wings. “Hey, don’t burn them all! Remember, we still plan to eat them,” Grim shouted at Tala, transforming into his horned golden eagle form and soaring into the sky with unparalleled speed and fineness. He dove down, using his sharp talons to pierce through several Vylkr vines, rending them apart by twisting and lifting them into the air.

Tala, chastened by Grim’s reminder, felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as she realized she had almost overlooked this crucial detail amidst the intensity of battle. With a nod towards the airborne Grim, she adjusted the intensity of her flames and employed her dagger to carve through a section of the Vylkr vines, ensuring they were partially cooked by her flames before severing them.

“Let’s give it another shot,” Orion murmured to himself, completely absorbed in the exhilaration of unleashing his gift to its fullest potential. Lost in the intensity of the battle, he extended his hand backwards, gripping the hilt of his dagger tightly as he aimed its razor-sharp blades forward. With a swift motion, Orion propelled his hand forward, releasing the dagger with such speed that it became a blur to the naked eye. The blade sliced through numerous Vylkr vines in its path before landing on the ashen ground, dispersing tendrils of crackling lightning that stung the retreating Vylkr vines, keeping them at bay.

“Crackle.” The cycle repeated itself as more sections of the Vylkr vines crumbled and disintegrated under Orion’s relentless assault.

However, unbeknownst to Orion, he found himself venturing deeper and deeper into the heart of the Vylkr vines, completely absorbed in his exploration of the diverse capabilities of his gift. This didn’t go unnoticed by the others on the battleground, who, unwilling to be outdone by Orion’s display from the previous day, pressed forward in an attempt to match his achievements. However, their progress was hindered by the daggers in their hands, forcing them to heavily rely on their gifts and individual efforts to maintain their position.

Meanwhile, in a critical moment, Gorg swiftly tore a strip of fabric from his tulga and skillfully fastened it to his weapon. With a sudden motion, he flung his modified tool forward, and to everyone’s surprise, the torn fabric began to stretch in unimaginable ways until only a series of thin threads were left, suspended in the air before him.

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