Adam’s feet hit the soft ground with a heavy thud. In that split second, his eyes locked onto the tree where his glowing white slashes had struck.

The marks on the bark were still fresh and burning with a light of their own.

A blue liquid, cool yet unsettling, had started to seep slowly out from the wounds, spreading like a slow river over the rough surface of the tree. It was as if the tree itself was crying out in pain.

Before anyone could speak, something enormous began to form right beside that wounded trunk. The silence broke with a sense of deep foreboding.

Hidden behind the familiar camouflage of leaves and bark, a beast emerged. It was not an ordinary creature but a giant chameleon—a monster that had been lurking there all along.

Its size was shocking; it stretched out to nearly ten meters in length, a creature built for both stealth and brutality.

The chameleon moved with an unexpected grace for its massive size. Its front limbs were planted firmly on the ground, supporting its heavy body, while its powerful hind legs clung tightly to the tree.

The creature’s head was low, almost merging with the trunk, and its wide mouth gaped open. Inside that enormous mouth, a long red tongue shot out like a whip.

At that very moment, the red tongue was wrapped around the back of one of the small bandits who had been watching from a distance.

The bandit, dressed in the dark clothing and armor reminiscent of samurai,Even Sophia, who had stood nearby, took a step back in terror.

Her lips parted in a silent gasp, and her heart pounded as she tried to comprehend the scene before her.

The chameleon’s presence was terrifying. Its skin, which had been a perfect match for the tree, now began to show signs of change.

Adam’s earlier attack had not only halted the beast’s advance but had also injured it deeply. The thick scales of its body were split open by the glowing white slashes.

In the areas where the attack had landed, the skin had been torn apart, revealing raw flesh beneath.

As the bandits and Sophia watched in horror, the creature’s body started to change color.

The natural camouflage that had once hidden it among the tree’s branches was fading away. Slowly, its skin turned a deep brown.

The transformation made it look as though it were part of the tree itself, with a rough bark-like texture that only emphasized the wounds it suffered.

But the color change was not enough to hide the gruesome damage.

Deep gashes began to appear all over the creature’s long, powerful body. The cuts were wide and jagged, as if a giant blade had sliced through it.

Chunks of skin and muscle started to peel away from the rest of the body, falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

It was a horrifying sight: the creature’s head was nearly sliced in two, and even its long, red tongue was not spared. In a swift motion, the red tongue was severed in midair, the part still clinging to the bandit now falling free.

With a wet splat, the detached tongue hit the dirt. The sound was strangely final, marking the end of its deadly grasp.

In that moment, the small bandit that the tongue had been holding was released.

His small body jerked as the force of the release threw him off balance. For a few heartbeats, he hung in the air, then collapsed onto the ground with a painful thud.

The young bandit lay on the dirt, his face pressed against the cold earth. His body trembled, and a low moan of agony escaped his lips.

It was clear that he had been hurt badly. Adam’s eyes, still fixed on the injured creature, could not help but notice that the bandit’s body was in distress, especially around the lower half of his back.

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The heat of the attack had burned that area badly, leaving it almost unrecognizable.

Sophia’s eyes shifted from the scene of the beast to the small bandit on the ground. She noticed a strange green liquid oozing from the severed tongue that now lay on the dirt.

The liquid was unlike anything she had seen before. It moved slowly, a slick substance that spread outward from the point where it touched the ground.

Almost immediately, the soil beneath the green liquid began to change. It sizzled, as if something hot was burning the earth, and soon the ground started to melt, softening and bubbling as the corrosive nature of the liquid took effect.

Her heart pounded even faster as she wondered silently, 'Is this some kind of acid? Or does the creature’s saliva naturally have the power to melt solid ground? 'The simple question held no easy answer.

It was a mystery that added to the terror of the moment, making her feel even more helpless as she witnessed the chain of destruction unfold before her eyes.

The small bandit, whose name was Elan, struggled on the ground. His face contorted in pain as the burning sensation spread along his back.

His eyes, filled with terror and agony, darted around as he tried to call for help.

His voice, weak at first, grew louder as the pain intensified. “Father! Help me! It hurts! It hurts so much!” he cried out, his voice echoing through the quiet forest.

At the sound of his cries, the other bandits moved quickly. The older of the three, who had spoken harshly to Adam just moments earlier, dropped everything and rushed toward Elan.

His face was a mix of anger, shock, and deep concern. He knelt beside his son, grabbing his shoulders tightly and shaking him, trying desperately to awaken him from the overwhelming pain.

The older bandit’s voice trembled with worry as he repeated, “Elan! Are you okay? Stay with me!” His words were filled with a frantic urgency, echoing off the surrounding trees.

Yet, despite his efforts, Elan’s body continued to convulse. Each spasm seemed to worsen the burning pain, and his small frame buckled under the force of it.

The sight was heart-wrenching, a stark reminder of the cruelty of the battle they had just witnessed.

All around them, the forest had fallen into a heavy silence after the chaos. The only sounds were the ragged breaths of the survivors and the soft, eerie sizzle of the melted ground beneath the green liquid.

Adam, still standing a short distance away, watched everything with a mixture of relief and sorrow. His attack had saved the bandit from a worse fate, but it had also caused an agonizing injury. He knew that in the heat of battle, such outcomes were sometimes unavoidable.

Sophia’s eyes, wide with both horror and curiosity, flickered from the wounded bandit to the tree and then to the chameleon.

The creature, now bleeding and in the process of dying, continued to struggle against the damage. Its deep brown skin and torn flesh told a story of a mighty beast brought low by a single, well-placed strike.

The once formidable chameleon was now little more than a broken shell of its former self, its life slowly ebbing away with every passing second.

The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, as if it too mourned the violence that had just occurred.

Every fallen chunk of flesh, every splinter of torn skin, and every drip of the strange green and blue liquids added to the heavy, mournful atmosphere.

Even the rustling of the leaves and the creaking of the trees appeared subdued, as if nature was trying to process the shock of the unfolding tragedy.

Adam’s mind raced as he looked at the scene. He had acted swiftly, and his glowing white slashes had not only stopped the beast but had also changed its nature.

The splintered pieces of the creature’s body told him that his skills had made a difference, yet the cost was visible in the suffering of a young boy.

His thoughts were heavy with the realization that even a well-meant strike could bring unforeseen pain.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of nature and the labored breaths of the injured bandit.

The older man continued to shake Elan gently, trying to bring him back from the brink of unconsciousness.

His eyes searched desperately for any sign that his son might recover from the terrible burn that now marred his lower back. Every second seemed to stretch out, each one filled with both hope and despair.

Sophia took a small step forward, her face a mixture of concern and disbelief. She wanted to help, but fear held her back.

The green liquid continued its slow, destructive dance on the ground, turning solid earth into a soft, melted mess. The acidic quality of the substance was a new horror that none of them had expected.

It was as if the very nature of the creature had been twisted into a force that could change the world around it.

In that tense silence, every small sound was magnified—the rustling of a leaf, the soft drip of the blue liquid, and the desperate, muffled cries of the injured boy.

The scene was both beautiful in its raw, natural detail and terrible in its violent destruction.

Adam’s attack had been a bold move, a moment of bravery that had come with a high price.

The wound on the tree, the spilled blue liquid, and the creature’s disintegrating body were all a testament to the power of his strike, but they also reminded everyone present of the unpredictable and brutal nature of their world.

The older bandit’s desperate shouts, “Elan! Are you okay?!” mingled with the sorrowful sounds of the forest as Elan’s cries for help filled the air.

Each plea was a reminder that even in moments of great heroism, the cost of battle was often paid in suffering. The bandits’ eyes, previously filled with shock at the monstrous chameleon, now held tears and fear for their own kin.

And then, as if time itself decided to pause, the small bandit’s anguished voice echoing through the trees. His cry, “Father! Help me! It hurts! It hurts so much!” hung in the air.

There was nothing more to add; the description ended exactly at that moment, leaving the forest and its survivors to face the harsh reality of what had just occurred.