Chapter 113: The March into the Unknown

  Eo gazed upon the vast horde of monsters before him. Their numbers had swelled considerably, and now it was time to take the next step. With a silent thought, he initiated a mass evolution, feeling the surge of energy ripple through the battlefield-like clearing. The transformation was rapid yet controlled, a testament to his mastery over his abilities.

  As the last flashes of evolutionary brilliance faded, Eo's golden eyes gleamed with deep contemplation. He exhaled softly, then spoke into the air as if addressing an unseen presence.

  "Fenrir."

  A ripple of darkness stirred at the edge of the clearing, and from the inky abyss, a towering figure emerged. Fenrir, now standing at a colossal six meters tall, was a living embodiment of silent dominance. His fur shimmered with an eerie, silver-laced darkness, and his eyes burned with an almost feral intelligence. He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment, awaiting his master's decree.

  Eo regarded him with an expression that almost bordered on fondness. There was something about Fenrir—perhaps the blood essence he had bestowed upon him during evolution—that made him feel an inexplicable bond with the beast. A connection not unlike that of a creator and his firstborn.

  "You will lead them," Eo stated firmly, his voice carrying an undeniable weight of authority. "While you're at it, increase their numbers."

  Fenrir remained silent for a moment, his piercing gaze flickering with understanding before bowing deeply. "As you command, my lord."

  Eo watched as Fenrir turned and vanished into the mist, taking with him a selected group of evolved monsters. A smirk played at the edge of Eo's lips as he shifted his attention toward the dense forest beyond. His mind wandered, whispering words laced with an unseen force into the air before reclining back upon his throne of stone. Deep thoughts clouded his mind as he began strategizing his next course of action.

  Meanwhile, within the towering fortress walls, Antru walked with an air of solemnity. The corridor was dimly lit, and the faint echoes of his footsteps added to the ominous atmosphere. He led a group of children, each chosen for something far greater than they could yet comprehend. They were heading toward the 'Holy Ground,' a sanctum where transformation awaited them.

  But then, without warning, Antru halted mid-step. His rigid form and sudden stop startled the children, causing a few of them to nearly stumble into his back.

  Silence hung in the air before he finally spoke, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. "There have been changes. Before you may receive our lord’s grace, you must first undergo the final test."

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  The children exchanged confused glances. Lira, a girl with sharp, questioning eyes, was the first to voice her concern. "What kind of test?"

  Antru did not immediately answer. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the west, his lips curling into a smile that did little to comfort the young ones. His pupils had become pitch-black voids, his face eerily illuminated by the dim light. His aged, wrinkled skin stretched taut over his features, making his grin even more unsettling.

  "You will see once you come with me," he finally responded, his tone carrying an unsettling certainty.

  Without further explanation, Antru changed direction, veering away from the fortress interior and toward the vast wilderness beyond. Though apprehensive, the children followed, driven by faith, fear, or sheer necessity.

  Far away from the fortress, the Grand Duke’s grand procession moved steadily through the dense woodland. At the forefront of the convoy, an opulent carriage, adorned with the insignia of his noble house, rolled forward with a measured pace. The Grand Duke himself, a man of imposing stature and refined elegance, peered out of the window with narrowed eyes. His gaze locked onto the thick fog that clung to the forest like an unholy shroud.

  Outside, knights and guards rode their valiant steeds, their armor gleaming even under the oppressive gloom. Their usual confidence had begun to waver, however, as a suffocating presence settled upon them. It was an unnatural sensation—one that whispered of unseen eyes watching from the mist, of things lurking just beyond their perception.

  One knight murmured to another, his voice barely above a whisper. "This place... it feels wrong. Like something is breathing down our necks."

  Another soldier, gripping the reins of his horse a bit too tightly, nodded. "Aye, it's as if the shadows themselves are alive. I can feel them creeping over my skin."

  "Tch," a third scoffed, though his attempt at bravado fell flat. "It's just a denser mist than usual. Don't let your minds play tricks on you."

  The murmuring grew, and soon the unease among the troops became palpable. The Grand Duke, noting this shift, clicked his tongue in irritation before speaking, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

  "Enough," he declared, his tone steady and unyielding. "Are you soldiers or frightened children? This is merely another hunt, nothing more. The beasts may be larger, their roars may be louder, but they fall just the same as any other. Steel and fire shall be our answer. Do not let cowardice soil your honor."

  His words, though commanding, did little to ease the tension completely. Yet the soldiers dared not voice further complaints in his presence. They fell back into disciplined silence, but the fear in their eyes remained.

  Among those present, Leonard, the Grand Duke’s son, sat rigidly within the carriage. His fingers dug into his palm as he gnawed anxiously at his nails, his gaze darting between the mist-laden trees. There was something out there—he could feel it. A primal fear clawed at the edges of his mind, warning him, screaming at him to turn back.

  He looked at his father with a desperate plea. "Father, please. We should not be here. We need to leave this place while we still can."

  The Grand Duke barely spared him a glance before returning his attention forward. His expression was unreadable, cold as iron. "Enough, Leonard. You shame yourself with such cowardice. This is my domain, and no beast shall dictate my will."

  Leonard’s stomach twisted. His father’s stubbornness was going to get them all killed. And yet, as the Grand Duke raised his hand in silent command, the procession continued forward, venturing deeper into the ominous woods where something—something ancient and hungry—lay in wait.