Chapter 140: The Cracks

Magian Verdant floated silently above a dense, sprawling forest in Bask. His green robe billowed gently in the cool wind, blending with the foliage below. His expression was grave, eyes scanning the horizon with an intensity hinting at his thoughts' weight. The air around him shimmered faintly with mana, the very essence of the land responding to his presence.

From the west, Duskfang approached, his pace deliberate yet slowed by the lingering effects of his injury. His white fur coat and dark armor gleamed faintly under the waning light as he hovered beside Verdant. “Where is Stone?” he asked, his voice carrying a mix of concern and irritation.

Verdant’s gaze didn’t shift. “He’s occupied with researching the Stone Dragon and handling matters at his tower. He’s spread thin but focused.”

Duskfang nodded, wincing slightly as a twinge of pain shot through his shoulder—the wound inflicted by the king’s golden spear still burned with a faint but relentless ache. “This damn injury… My spirit is holding, but it will take at least a year to nullify the effects completely, even my Spirit Weapon might be affected. Until then, I’m stuck, unable to progress.”

He clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. “That bastard of a king—such a malicious attack, leaving me crippled but not dead. He’s toying with us.”

Verdant’s lips tightened in agreement. “The spear wasn’t just an attack—it was a message, a warning. How’s your spiritual weapon holding up?”

Duskfang’s expression darkened. “It’s intact, but the injury complicates activating it. Without my spiritual weapon, half my strength is locked away. It’s my trump card, and now it’s almost useless.”

Verdant nodded solemnly. “Spiritual weapons are the pinnacle of a Magian’s power. If yours is compromised, we have a problem.”

“I’m working on it,” Duskfang assured him. “I won’t let this weakness persist.”

Suddenly, Verdant’s eyes sharpened, the usual calm giving way to a keen, focused intensity as he directed his gaze to the trembling ground below. The earth convulsed violently, sending deep shudders through the air. Vast cracks began to spiderweb across the land with alarming speed, their jagged lines carving through the terrain like wounds, splitting open the soil and stone. The fissures widened rapidly, deep enough to swallow entire homes, buildings, and trees, reducing the landscape to a chaotic mosaic of broken earth.

The ominous rumble grew louder, echoing like a distant, monstrous growl from the depths, a harbinger of something far more dangerous lurking below. Verdant could feel it—a malevolent presence, ancient and powerful, stirring beneath the surface, pushing against the fragile boundary of the earth. The atmosphere grew heavier, charged with an unsettling energy that made the air feel thick and oppressive.

Verdant’s face turned grim. “It’s beginning,” he muttered. The gravity of the situation settled over them like a suffocating weight. He turned to Duskfang, his tone urgent. “Send word to the Apostles. They need to evacuate every village in the area. If we don’t act fast, there’ll be no one left to save.”

Duskfang’s eyes flickered with determination. “And you? What will you do?”

“I’ll hold the line here,” Verdant replied, mana beginning to swirl around him. “If any creatures from the underground try to escape, I’ll make sure they don’t reach the surface.”

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Duskfang hesitated. “Don’t push yourself too hard. We need you alive. Bask’s future depends on all of us.”

Verdant’s gaze remained locked on the widening abyss below. “I won’t let Bask fall. Not to this, and not to the Rollen Kingdom. We still owe them a reckoning.”

With a solemn nod, Duskfang ascended, his figure fading into the horizon as he set off to relay the urgent message. Verdant, now alone, steeled himself for the task ahead. The ground beneath him continued to crumble, revealing a yawning chasm that seemed to stretch endlessly into darkness. The very air around him vibrated with impending doom, but Verdant stood firm, ready to defend his homeland against whatever emerged from the depths.

From the gaping sinkhole, an abomination began to emerge—a monstrous centipede-like creature, its segmented body writhing with grotesque fluidity, each movement exuding a sickening grace. Its back was a nightmarish mosaic of bulbous, unblinking eyes, each one rimmed with jagged, razor-sharp teeth that snapped incessantly, as if gnashing in anticipation of a feast. The eyes darted erratically, their gaze reflecting a hunger that seemed insatiable. The sickening sound of gnashing teeth echoed through the air, a bone-chilling cacophony that filled the forest with an oppressive dread.

Verdant’s eyes narrowed as more of these nightmarish creatures clawed their way to the surface, their grotesque forms dragging through the fissures, leaving trails of noxious ichor in their wake.

Each monstrosity radiated the power of a Rank Four Apostle, their malevolence a palpable force, corrupting the very air around them.

Their grotesque mouths snapped hungrily, emitting low, guttural growls that reverberated through the trembling forest.

With a disdainful huff, Verdant raised his hand above his head. A translucent green disk began to materialize, shimmering with an ethereal, almost otherworldly light. The disk pulsed with a quiet menace, growing larger with each passing second, its edges sharp and gleaming, expanding until it dwarfed a caravan in size.

The disk hovered ominously, vibrating with latent power, a harbinger of the devastating force Verdant was about to unleash. The creatures screeched and writhed, sensing the impending doom, but Verdant’s expression remained cold and unyielding, ready to strike down the abominations that dared to rise from the abyss.

Without hesitation, Verdant hurled the disk downward. It sliced through the air with lethal precision, slamming into the mass of creatures below.

BOOOM!

The impact was thunderous, shaking the earth and unleashing a burst of poisonous light that seared through the monsters, their shrieks of agony cutting through the chaos.

But Verdant was far from finished. His other hand rose, summoning another immense green disk. One by one, he unleashed them in rapid succession, each disk descending like the wrath of a vengeful god. Explosions of green light erupted with each strike, the poisonous aura spreading like wildfire, corroding and consuming the beasts in its path.

This power he wielded was born from two specific runes—knowledge of his Apostle years that worked in perfect tandem. Though the disks appeared to be pure light, the toxic energy they emitted betrayed their true nature. Verdant’s mastery of this hybrid magic was a testament to his unconventional path, one that the king and the Rollen Kingdom had long disdained.

To the King, Verdant had squandered his potential in light magic by tainting it with poisonous mana anomalies.

But Verdant knew better. His fifth rune, obtained just before his ascension to a Magian, was the key. Though rooted in the light affinity, it was deeply intertwined with poison, reshaping his spirit and opening new doors. This fusion of light and poison had made him an anomaly—a Magian unafraid to explore the forbidden.

Verdant smirked grimly as he surveyed the carnage below. The once-majestic forest was now a battlefield, littered with the mangled remains of the centipede creatures. But he was not satisfied. The ground still trembled, hinting at more horrors yet to come. He was aware of the many creatures that fled underground after humanity taken over Bask. He wondered, what monstrosities would merge.

He clenched his fists, his resolve unshaken. “This is only the beginning,” he muttered to himself. The monsters were a mere prelude to the true threat—the Earth Giant King. He could feel its ominous presence, an ancient power stirring beneath the earth, biding its time.