Chapter Forty-Seven: Section B

In the dim world, even fallen leaves were wrinkled, shattering on impact into four fragments. On the branches of a withered tree, there was a deep scar, as if a heavy sword or blade had cleaved it long ago.

A writhing mutated insect moved along the edge of the scar, its body marred by dry, dark spots. Of its two antennae, one was broken off at the base, the other severed into two segments, with black pus oozing continuously from the wound, sizzling as it dripped onto the tree, leaving a long trail behind.

A guttural howl echoed.

Nearby, the ruins of a house—its origins inscrutable—had long since collapsed, leaving only debris piled on the ground. Amidst the cracks, withered yellow grass still struggled to grow.

Suddenly, the stone slabs beneath the ruins were shattered, and a figure burst forth, revealing a pitch-black cavity beneath. In this world, apart from yellow, only black existed; any other color was a luxury beyond reach.

The figure emerged, mouth filled with incessant snarls, running toward the withered tree. Reaching out, it seized the writhing insect, stuffing it into its mouth and chewing. Black and yellow fluids streamed from its lips.

The tree, already nearly devoid of leaves, watched as its last few at the top completed their final mission and fell. Without the companionship of its leaves, the withered tree seemed even lonelier in this dim world.

A shriveled hand clutched the trunk; the ‘delicacy’ in its mouth not yet swallowed, the figure collapsed, dead and fragmented beside the tree, joining its lonely vigil.

This dim world could not tolerate anything foreign. It seemed like autumn, but lacked autumn’s tranquility; like winter, but devoid of winter’s purity. Here, mere survival felt extravagant—no sign of life could be seen.

Yellow, deathly stillness, ruthless silence, and whatever had burst forth from who knew where—all would be devoured before one could react.

“Shao, do you think we can kill it this time? If it escapes into Area A or Area S, our plan will fail again.”

The man’s sharp eyes scrutinized the surroundings. From the green scabbard at his waist, a green glow occasionally spilled forth, bringing a hint of vitality to this withered world, but was soon swallowed and restored to its original lifelessness.

“This time, it must die. If we get the Seed, whether you can break through to High Foundation depends on this. No mistakes allowed.” The man addressed as Shao extended a hand, clenched it tightly, as if what they sought to slay was already within his grasp, ready to be crushed.

Not far behind the woman, a young man dressed in black followed. She glanced at him in silence, knowing he was not one for words—cold and distant, seemingly aloof, but in battle, he was the one she could trust her back to.

The three of them had survived countless life-and-death trials from their freshman to sophomore years, relying on mutual trust for their achievements and earning a place on the Sacred Wood Ranking.

The girl walked forward a few steps, standing atop rubble at the edge of the ruins to survey the scene ahead.

‘Another mutant. I’ve lost count of the low-level mutant corpses we’ve seen along the way.’

She looked at the shattered corpse beneath the tree, and her heart ached. The mutants had once been human, struggling alongside mankind during those difficult days.

The corpse, unrecognizable, was shriveled and skeletal—nothing left but skin and bone.

No one knew when mutants first appeared among the population, nor when they lost their humanity, ceased eating human food, and became monstrously strong or incredibly swift.

At that time, elemental powers had begun to emerge among people like mushrooms after rain, but none of their offspring awakened such powers.

Gradually, they discovered that consuming blood strengthened their bodies or agility. At first, they restrained themselves, hunting mutated beasts outside the city for food.

Until one mutant killed a novice Star Core Warrior—everything changed. That mutant, originally of Body-Strengthening level, after consuming the flesh and blood of a novice warrior, instantly became comparable to a high-level novice.

That day marked the split—the day of humanity’s destruction. Cities and shelters (there were no guard posts yet) fell into chaos.

Flesh, Star Core Warrior = Power. The desire within mutants was ignited. Born without elemental powers, unlike the gifted, most lived at society’s lowest rungs, more humble than ordinary people.

They were born with radiation in their bodies, like thick iron armor, shielding them from all outside forces, good or bad.

Elemental powers would not awaken. When sick, medicine could not help; they could only endure. If they failed, they died.

In war, they were always the vanguard—not because they were lowly, but because of their strength and agility. They died in the greatest numbers.

Humans looked at them with disgust, fearing their radiation would harm their noble bodies or their children. They dared not rebel, for the three strongest monarchs remained, and their king still lived.

If they rebelled, losing their only shelters, the mad world outside would consume them utterly.

Until the first flesh crime occurred, they began to fight back, slaying and consuming those once high above. Word spread like wildfire, sweeping through all human settlements faster than any plague.

They longed for power, and now they had the chance—no longer the lowest, no longer forced to risk their frail bodies against mutated beasts.

Within a day, many shelters and small cities flowed with blood, red rivers running along the gutters where water once flowed.

Those who ate humans could no longer be called human. People began to avoid them, naming them mutants. On that day, it seemed the hand of God caressed them, and they began to evolve madly—every mutant as if chosen.

Ordinary-bodied mutants evolved to Body-Strengthening, then to Novice, then to Foundation… They devoured the corpses at their feet, blood spraying from their mouths with each bite, ignoring bones piercing their cheeks, still eating ravenously.

Blood streamed from their lips as they closed their eyes, feeling geometric increases in power within. They laughed.

A roar went up, echoed by many more. They cast off their chains, unleashed their human nature. At birth, humanity is both good and evil—such is the way.

Within a day, it was not mutated beasts but their own kind who destroyed cities and shelters. Before the three monarchs could react, the Mutant King approached them, promising to resolve the matter.

The chaos came quickly and faded just as fast. Within three days, all mutants who had killed humans were captured. The ringleaders were beheaded, their bodies displayed to quell human fury.

The three monarchs never appeared. In the end, all mutants were driven into one city, left to live or die as they might.

Everyone believed the matter was settled, but how could it be so simple? The flesh-eating mutants were imprisoned in the city dungeon. At first, they seemed to regain humanity, realizing their mistakes.

The change came half a month later. The mutants went mad, lost all reason. Their black eyes turned white, pupils vanished.

Mad, they attacked all they saw, turning outsiders into their own kind.

The dungeon became chaos incarnate. Severed arms shattered against the gates, heads exploding like watermelons with a constant “pop-pop.”

A roar, blood mixed with earth and wood splinters sprayed from their mouths as the survivors emerged, undergoing another evolution.

The first to burst out were gaunt, with limbs far longer than normal. Black claws grew like swords, dripping blood from their edges.

Next came mutants grown several times larger and taller, breaking out of small holes, destroying the dungeon with ease.

Uninfected mutants who arrived were attacked before they could react; once bitten, they rose and joined the mutant horde.

A single dead rat could bring plague to a city; dozens, hundreds of infected mutants soon transformed the entire city.

When the Mutant King returned, it was too late. He had just reported to the three monarchs, promising the flesh-eating incident would never happen again, only to find his city in ruins.

The city was nothing but debris. The flag of their mutant city lay fallen, the gate scattered in pieces, and only the upper bodies of mutants crawled at him, still trying to attack.

“No—” The Mutant King howled to the heavens. Was fate intent on destroying his people? From the beginning, they were victims. Why? They only sought a place to survive—was that too much to ask? Why!!!

Before the infected could crawl to him, they were crushed by his overwhelming aura.

The calm in the Mutant King’s eyes was gone, replaced by blazing fury, blood flames igniting from his body.

With every step forward, black footprints were left behind, blood flames erupting within, burning all around as if to cleanse the world of its sins.

His furious gaze seemed ready to incinerate, determined to find the source of all this.

From all directions, the first wave of infected destroyed everything, but sensing the alluring scent of blood, they howled in excitement and charged toward the Mutant King.