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I Became A Zompirewolf-Chapter 670 Euphoria’s Darkest Hour (3)
As the group walked deeper into the eerie cityscape, their footsteps echoed through the silent and war-torn areas. The once-great city had been mercilessly torn apart.
Even though the city was now safer from the outside, they could see a few corpses here and there. The Cultists must have invaded the town soon after their attack and killed many people before being driven out or killed by the city dwellers' hands.
Anna, her senses heightened as always, scanned their surroundings cautiously as they entered another corpse-filled alleyway.
"This place gives me the creeps," she muttered, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"It's definitely seen better days," Irina replied wryly.
Verina added, "But we've faced worse, haven't we?"
"Yeah, nothing could surpass the horror we saw and felt inside that Xyran mine." Irina stopped and took a deep breath before continuing to walk ahead.
Although it was their task to talk to the residents, they were either too scared to say anything or were busy saving their city.
As such, the girls took it upon themselves to look for any clues regarding the Medallion, and that's when they came across the corpses and decided to follow the trail.
However, it had been a few minutes, and they hadn't found anything till then... until they heard something crunch in the next alley.
Anna immediately raised her hand, signalling for the twins to be careful as she peeked into the alley.
"My god... what's happening here!" Anna couldn't believe her eyes when she saw a bunch of Cultists feasting over the dead.
Although they had always seen the Undead do it, it was for their survival. But the cultists? They were still alive and yet indulging in cannibalism just for the sake of it.
Without wasting any time, the three lunged at the cultists, destroying them without much effort. But when they were done, they heard someone clapping for them, and as they turned around, there was a woman before them.
"Well, well, well, wasn't that fun?" the woman smiled, and a cocktail of blood poured out of her mouth and the next moment, the cultists they had dispatched moments ago were back up as if nothing had happened.
"This shit keeps getting weirder and weirder," Anna mumbled as she prepared to fight against the woman and her puppets.
***
Meanwhile, outside the city, a solitary figure stood alone, facing an imminent threat. Two massive spaceships loomed overhead, their energy cannons charged and ready to fire upon the town.
Ashton, left to confront the enemy alone, was prepared to do whatever it took to protect his team and the Medallion.
"This is going to be tough," he mumbled.
[Hey! Didn't anyone tell you? You're not supposed to be complaining after volunteering for a task.]
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ashton shrugged and focused on his newfound Precursor Aura, drawing its immense power.
He closed his eyes to fade any and all distractions, as his slightest mistake could cause unprecedented destruction. Ashton took a deep breath, centring himself for what was to come next.
This was his moment to demonstrate his true strength, to harness the ancient energy that now coursed through his veins.
Raising his hands slowly, Ashton aimed them toward the approaching spaceships. With unwavering concentration, he gradually closed his palms. Even then, that inconsequential task seemed to be draining him of his energy.
Ashton's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the immense gravitational pull of his aura taking effect. The two colossal spaceships, floating ominously in the sky, began to quiver and tremble as if caught in an invisible tornado.
The cultists on board the ships panicked, their shouts and frantic movements going unnoticed by Ashton. All his focus was on the task at hand.
With a final, forceful motion, Ashton slammed his closed palms onto the ground. The effect was immediate and explosive. The massive spaceships, unable to resist the overwhelming force of his Precursor Aura, were yanked down from the sky with incredible speed.
There was a loud crash as the behemoths collided with the ground, their colossal frames shuddering and groaning under the impact. The earth trembled beneath the weight of their fall, and the sheer force of the collision sent shockwaves rippling through the surroundings.
Two colossal explosions followed, erupting into towering plumes of fire and smoke. The massive clouds of debris and destruction momentarily obscured Ashton's vision.
However, the sudden silence around him was enough for him to know he succeeded. Ashton managed to take down the ships and crashed them over the ongoing battlefield where the cultists had gathered.
But Ashton wasn't foolish enough to believe the cultists were the only ones caught in the explosion. That said, there was nothing he could do. Taking out the cultists was the most important thing, even if there had to be some sacrifices.
"I hope there weren't many good soldiers there-"
Suddenly, Ashton's legs gave out from the immense strain he had endured, and he fell to his knees, sweat pouring from his brow.
The cost of using his Precursor Aura so extensively was evident, and Ashton knew he had pushed himself to the limit. He could feel Astaroth getting ready to reprimand him for his recklessness, and he was right about it.
[You fucking moron! I told you to just get it over with. There was no need to force yourself to control the aura like an expert! See what happened? You overused the aura!]
"And? What if I sent them tumbling towards the capital?" Ashton replied, his voice strained. "I know I overdid it, but I did it to minimise the loss of life."
[One of these days, someone else wouldn't hesitate to show you the same gesture.]
"I think you screwed up your sentence-"
[Shut it! Exhausting yourself in battle serves no one!]
"Alright, I get it. I'm sorry!"
Ashton nodded despite Astaroth's words stinging his pride. He knew the ancient virgin was right. After all, ironically, controlling his aura seemed to drain him of even more of his strength and vitality.
"Well... I should get going."
Rising to his feet, Ashton wiped away his sweat with the back of his hand and steadied himself. There was no time to dwell on his fatigue.