Novel Full Chapter 336: The God Who Eats Is [I]
Chapter 336: The God Who Eats Is [I]
It is a well-known fact that a fully realized B-rank Hunter’s base speed sits somewhere around Mach 1 if they go all out.
Coupled with a variety of different Enhancement and Support Cards, as well as their Origin Card if it could help them in this regard, many Awakened at this stage are capable of shattering the sound barrier.
In our fight against Vaeghar, Alexia had done exactly that. One of her punches went supersonic.
Juliana, of course, with her innate ability to drastically accelerate her own boy’s time, followed up with that feat effortlessly.
My point is that B-rankers are pretty goddamn fast.
But believe me when I say, I must have broken some kind of record today.
Because the moment the world resumed its natural function…
The moment color bled back into the static, monochromatic world and the anchors weighing on time were lifted…
The moment I could move freely…
I summoned Scorched Oath and swiveled on my heel.
It took me less than a heartbeat to take aim, and by the time my spin was complete, I was already hurling the axe toward the sky with every ounce of force my superhuman body could muster.
The axe left my hand with a literal thunderclap.
A shockwave ripped outward from my feet, kicking dust and jagged pebbles into the air as the ground beneath me cracked in a spiderweb pattern.
The sound arrived a fraction of a second later in an explosive BOOM that made nearly everyone around me yelp in sheer surprise.
Of course.
From their perspective, I had just sauntered out of the makeshift tent, barked a few orders, and then, without uttering a single word of explanation, launched my weapon at the bleeding moon.
…But in reality, it wasn’t the moon I was aiming at.
It was the God of this Valley of The Forgotten.
Xaldreth had pointed me in the precise direction of our tormentor, giving me the bullseye I needed to hit in order to tear the mask off him.
So, I threw my dart.
Scorched Oath became a streak of burning crimson, a wheel of cartwheeling fire carving an incandescent line through the heavens.
It didn’t arc or slow down at all.
If anything, its velocity continued to amp up as it climbed higher and higher into the fractured sky. And before anyone could even blink—
—KABOOOM!!!
The blazing arc struck something invisible in the firmament, detonating in a massive, immolating explosion.
A roiling cloud of fire and black fumes rose to obscure whatever had been hit.
Two objects fell from that mushrooming sea of smoke. One was obviously my axe. The other was a white slab of some solid material that I assumed to be a plain, porcelain-like mask.
I quickly recalled Scorched Oath, dismissing it and summoning it back into my grip in the same breath. But while still in the middle of that, I heard a loud, strained, and all-too-familiar voice cry out my name.
“Sam!”
I glanced over to see Lily striding toward me.
“Stay back!” she ordered in a voice so definitive that even I was almost compelled to nod back. “You’ll not move from the midline, no matter the situation!”
Then she turned to address the others, her commands snapping out like whipcracks. “Kang, be ready! Alexia will most likely be the first target! Take her out of here as soon as you get the chance! Julia, hold the flank! Ray, support her and give Kang cover as he retreats, you’ll be on the offensive! Vince, on me! Defend me like your life is on the line, because it is!”
Vince immediately deployed his entire Arsenal, immediately going all out like he had never heard the concept of restraint. Yet, the confusion on his face was palpable as he stuttered, “But d-defend you from… what?”
The change in the atmosphere provided the answer before I could. There was a subtle shift in the air. Then a flicker of distortion in the space above us, like a heavy curtain quivering in a gale.
From the dying embers and the dispersing smoke of the explosion rose a presence, slow to manifest itself but impossible to ignore.
Even through the lingering fire and haze, the sheer spiritual pressure that spread from that spot was undeniable.
A suffocating weight fell over the entire valley, heavy with the stench of centuries of authority and unmitigated malice.
Finally, the smoke cleared completely and the silhouette of a disturbingly abominable creature was revealed.
The God Who Eats Is.
He was a towering figure — humanoid, or at least bipedal — of grey flesh mottled with rotten patches of sickly ochre.
Three elongated heads sat atop his neck and six arms sprouted from the sides of his torso in uneven pairs, each gripping a different primitive weapon.
Even standing at such a distance, I could feel the gravity of his presence pressing down on my shoulders, heavier than any burden someone of my level was ever meant to bear.
I felt everyone around me flinching in horror, their spirits buckling under that same divine — or unholy — pressure.
“O-Oh gods!” Ray gasped, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “That’s the same creature that has been ambushing us all this time!”
Yeah.
Now that I had taken his Divine Mask off, our mental fog had cleared.
We could finally remember him without effort… remember the times he had snuck up to strike us in the dead of night when our guards were lowered, wearing us down bit by bit like a predator playing with its food.
And, for the record, he did not seem to like the fact that I had taken his mask off.
How could I tell?
Well, it was just a hunch at first.
But by the time all three of his mouths — two of which were previously moving in unison to continually chant something in a guttural, alien tongue while the center one was chewing on a thin, ethereal white thread — opened and let out a shrill cry that reverberated like a chalk dragging on a rough blackboard… I knew I wasn’t imagining it.
He really was pissed.
The sound wasn’t necessarily loud, but it hurt to listen.
It felt like fine knives being rubbed against the insides of my ears, rattling my nerves and sending tremors through my body.
It felt like my arms and legs were being stabbed by pins and needles.
It felt like my mind had been tossed into a running industrial juicer.
…It felt like hell.
And it wasn’t just affecting us. Dust and loose stones trembled also along the canyon floor, dancing to the frequency of the scream.
Even the distant trees on the ledges swayed without a breeze, their branches shivering as if they were trying to uproot themselves and run away.
Mercifully, the sound soon stopped as the God brought one of his many arms up and pulled the gnawed end of that glimmering thread from his center mouth.
He then began to wrap the torn strands around his joined fingers like a set of puppet strings.
As for who was his puppet?
We followed the ethereal thread as it stretched downward, glowing like moonlit silk against the darkened sky… leading directly to a black-haired boy slouched limply against the cliff wall to our far right.
The thread did not simply connect to the boy. It pierced his chest, sinking deep through his flesh and undoubtedly attaching itself to his very soul.