is this ok or should i tone down the descriptiveness

CHAPTER 57: THE FRANTIC ESCAPE

One moment, the world was bathed in sunlight. The next, The light died, the air turned thick and oppressive, as a monstrous shadow blotted out the sky.

KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

The screech came first, a chilling, otherworldly cry that froze Alexander's blood in his veins. Even before his eyes shot up to the source, the sound alone told him what was above him. A primal instinct ripped through him, and even the Queen, towering and regal, couldn’t tear her gaze from him to the sky fast enough.

A split second later, the colossal talons of the Skybane Eagle—the size of trucks—crashed into her with a force that reverberated through the very mountain. The air snapped with the shockwave, and Alexander's heart hammered as his body reacted before his mind could even catch up.

The Queen staggered, her immense form twisting and writhing in sheer, unrelenting pain. But that was nothing compared to the deafening sound that followed—a cataclysmic roar that could shatter mountains, a grinding noise so violent it felt like the earth itself might split open. Alexander’s eardrums rang as though they would burst under the pressure. His body was hurled through the air with an impossible force, tumbling end over end, spiraling downward at the mercy of an unstoppable force.

The dust, thick and choking, swirled around him, swallowing the world.

BAM!

His back collided with something hard—wooden, rough, but unyielding.

CRACK!

The sickening sound of snapping wood echoed in his ears as the branch broke beneath him, sending him plummeting once more. Wind howled past him, a deafening roar as the world spun uncontrollably. Every twist of his body felt like he was being torn apart, gravity itself reaching out to claim him.

But there was no sweet, weightless freedom in the fall—only pain and chaos. His body slammed into the ground with brutal force.

THUD! -THUD! -THUD! -THUD! ......

He bounced, once, twice—then again and again. Each impact felt like his bones were shattering under the immense pressure. His body slammed into the earth, carving deep craters with every hit, as if the land itself was fighting to swallow him whole. The shockwaves of his fall sent massive plumes of dust and earth shooting into the air, blanketing the world in a choking haze.

And still, he fell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his body came to a shuddering halt. He lay in a deep pit of broken earth, only a few feet away from a lone tree—one of the few things left standing in the wake of the destruction. Its bark was cracked, splintered, as though it had barely survived the chaos.

Alexander’s body was a mangled wreck. His blood pooled beneath him, painting the earth crimson. He could barely draw a breath—every attempt to move sent spikes of agony tearing through him, the pain an unrelenting tidal wave crashing against his senses. He could feel the crushing weight of his injuries, the oppressive pressure of his own shattered body.

Then he realized the worst truth. His bones—his ribs, his legs, his arms—weren’t broken, but they were far from whole. They were cracked, each fracture sending waves of torment through him. If he hadn’t reached constitution 4, if his body hadn’t been strengthened by his ascent, he would have been reduced to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground.

A shudder ran through him at the thought. But it was swiftly drowned by the white-hot agony coursing through every fiber of his being.

There was no mistaking it—if he stayed like this, he wouldn’t survive. He was already teetering on the edge, and the abyss was only a breath away.

For a fleeting moment, as his mind struggled to regain focus, Alexander was able to steal a shallow breath—and it was then that the full extent of his condition slammed into him like a freight train. It wasn’t just the external wounds—those were bad enough—but the real horror lay within. His insides felt like they had been torn apart. He could almost feel the internal bleeding spreading through him like a slow, lethal poison. His body—his very essence—was in ruins. The pathways that channeled his mana were a wreck. He could almost hear them, each circuit almost cracked, like a fragile spider’s web under the weight of a truck crushing it over and over again.

It was worse than he'd feared. Much worse. His time was running out faster than he could even comprehend. At best, he had five minutes—maybe—before the dark curtain of unconsciousness dragged him under. And if unconscious, death would come to claim him within thirty minutes.

In the midst of the agony, his ancestor's voice cut through, . It was the last thing he could rely on. With every ounce of willpower he could muster, Alexander forced himself to move. But it was like dragging his body through thick mud—each tiny shift was a monumental struggle. His muscles screamed in protest, each movement sending jagged waves of pain through his body. It was as if every inch he gained was earned at the cost of ten miles.

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But he had to push through. Desperation clawed at him, and he reached into his pocket with trembling fingers. It felt like it took an eternity, but finally, his hand closed around the vial. The healing serum. His last hope.

With a grunt of effort, he forced it to his lips, swallowing the liquid in one agonizing gulp. Even drinking it was a battle—his throat felt like it was being shredded from the inside,

What the fuck. his sense of taste was completely absent.

But then—almost immediately—he felt it. The serum wasn't some miracle elixir that would return him to perfect health in an instant. It didn’t regrow limbs or heal gaping wounds with a snap of the fingers. No, it was more subtle, yet still powerful in its own way.

A slow, soothing wave of relief spread through his body, like cool water cascading over an open wound. The healing sensation seeped deep into his bones, curling around his nerves, and even infiltrating the very depths of his injured insides. His body—broken and battered as it was—suddenly felt less unbearable, like the burning pressure was being eased, bit by bit.

BOOM!

The world around him trembled as another massive blast rocked the ground, sending a shockwave through the earth beneath him. The impact rattled the pit he had crashed into, shaking it violently. Dust swirled in the air, thick and choking, and the chaos around him escalated as the earth groaned under the weight of destruction.

But Alexander couldn’t focus on any of that anymore. His mind was too fogged, too overwhelmed by the storm of pain that continued to rage within him. The sounds of battle—roars, crashes, the rumbling earth—became background noise, distant and muffled.

The only thing that mattered now was surviving long enough to make it out of here. Staying in this crater was no longer an option. But moving blindly, with the devastation still unfolding around him, was a death sentence waiting to happen. A stray shockwave, a falling boulder—anything could end his life in an instant. But as much as he wanted to act, to escape, there was no easy way out. Every second felt like an eternity, each breath like it might be his last.

Twenty-six minutes.

It was a number that felt almost unreal, but Alexander had no time to question it. After what felt like an eternity, his body began to respond. The healing serum had worked its magic faster than he'd thought possible—far faster than the pain had allowed him to anticipate. His muscles, still weak and trembling, could move again, albeit sluggishly. He felt the faintest flicker of hope, but it was fleeting, swallowed quickly by the harsh reality of his situation.

The battle, no the hunt, was still ongoing, and Alexander had no choice but to escape, to move, to survive. But the danger still lurked all around him, lurking like a predator waiting for a single misstep to strike. The odds of survival were razor-thin, but he had to take the chance. There was no other choice. The serum healed him. True but it was far from enough with his injured he needed medical intervention fast.

There was no time to think—only to move.

With clenched teeth and a body screaming in protest, Alexander launched himself out of the knee-deep crater. He didn't dare look back. His only goal was forward.

The air was thick with swirling dust, an impenetrable fog choking the battlefield. He could barely see five feet ahead, and that was the least of his concerns. Jagged debris rained from above. The earth trembled with aftershocks. A single misstep, and he'd be sent hurtling through the air like a ragdoll—or worse, buried beneath the mountain’s wrath.

His feet pounded against the uneven terrain, kicking up ash and rubble with every step. The world around him was a death trap.

At one point, his foot nearly slipped off an unseen drop—a sheer cliff waiting to swallow him whole. His breath caught in his throat as he barely pulled back in time, his momentum threatening to carry him into the abyss.

Another time, he skidded to a halt mere inches from a gaping hole in the ground—another entrance to the nest. His stomach twisted. Had he stepped a second later, he’d have plunged straight in, delivered himself right back into the nightmare he was trying to escape.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

A shadow loomed to his left—he barely had a moment to react before a boulder the size of a carriage plummeted down.

BOOM!

The impact sent a shockwave tearing through the ground, blasting chunks of rock and dirt into the air. The force alone nearly swept him off his feet. If that thing had landed a foot closer—no, he didn’t even want to imagine it. He would’ve been reduced to nothing but a smear on the rocks.

The tremors didn’t stop. Even though the behemoths above were locked in combat high, their power still reached the earth. Alexander felt it in the vibrations underfoot, the way the world seemed to groan under their might.

But there was one relief—their battle was drifting higher and farther away. The shockwaves were growing weaker. They no longer felt like an invisible force shoving him forward with each step.

Still, the suffocating dust cloud refused to fade, stretching endlessly into the forest ahead.

"Fuck."

The curse left his lips in a frustrated breath. The thought had struck him hard—he was practically blind in this storm of debris. If something lurked within, stalking him from the shadows, he’d never see it coming. Worse, even if he did, it could finish him off before he had a chance to react. Not to mention his banged up condition.

But there was no turning back.

Behind him, two monstrous beings clashed with power that shook the heavens. He doubted hey were named beast the one that are the most powerful on the planet but he doubted they were far from that level especially the skybane eagle. he only had the option of moving forward. .

Everything was still drowned in a choking haze of dust and ruin, but he at least had a sense of direction. The mountain was tall—but the city walls were taller. He had seen them while falling, their towering silhouette etched against the sky.

If he could climb high enough, he could probably spot them again.

But that came with risks. The trees here weren’t just trees—they were hunting grounds. Snakes, muckers, and god knows what else could be lurking in their canopies, waiting for prey to wander too close. The last thing he needed was to scale a tree and find himself in a monster’s jaws.

So he ran.

His body screamed for rest, but he ignored it. His wounds burned, but he pushed through. The healing tonic had dulled the worst of the pain, but it was wearing off fast. He needed to put as much distance behind him as possible before it lost its effect completely.

He focused on a single thing—the walls. The city. Safety.

Forty-five minutes passed. The air slowly grew clearer, the thick dust thinning into a heavy mist. His surroundings became sharper. Shadows turned into trees, rocks, uneven terrain.

Another few minutes, and he’d see the sky again.

The relief should have hit him. But instead, all he could think about was the burning in his lungs, the searing pain spreading through his limbs. The comfort of the tonic had faded long ago.

And yet, despite it all, he was still moving—still running. His speed had barely dropped. Seventy-five percent of his strength remained, a stubborn defiance against the pain threatening to drag him down.

He didn’t question it. He didn’t dwell on it.

All that mattered was reaching the city. Reaching safety. Reaching help.

Because if he stopped now, there was no getting up again.

Another surprising thing—he hadn’t seen a single beast in the past forty-five minutes. Not even a hint of an attack. It seemed like his luck was finally turning around, but he doubted it. This was the calm before the storm. His upcoming hospital bill was already more painful than his current injuries.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t know—was that every creature in the area was already paralyzed in terror. Not from him, but from the sheer magnitude of what raged behind him.

The Eagle and the Queen.

Their clash was more than just raw destruction—it was domination. Each collision sent a shockwave through the Qi itself, the energy so dense, so suffocating, that the beasts of the forest had no choice but to hide, cowering in their burrows, their nests, their dens.

Even the apex predators had gone still, unwilling to risk drawing the attention of the monsters above.

Alexander ran on, oblivious to the unseen war of instincts and power keeping the world around him frozen in place.

Time blurred. Pain and exhaustion gnawed at him, but he kept moving. His vision swam, muscles burning, lungs aching. Every step felt heavier than the last.

And then—

The wall.

It stood in the distance, a towering colossus of stone and steel. The city gates, bustling with life, gleamed like a beacon of salvation.

Relief slammed into him like a crashing wave. His breath hitched. His body sagged.

He had made it.

But in that single, fleeting moment of peace—his body betrayed him.

The strength in his legs evaporated. His vision darkened at the edges.

And just as the tension in his chest finally released, his body gave out, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.