CHAPTER 319: BLOOD IN THE MOUNTAINS [ 1 ]

The convoy plunged deeper into the ominous Ayzion Mountain Range, the rumble of the remaining trucks echoing ominously off jagged cliffs.

Dust trailed behind them like a ghostly veil, dissipating into the pale light filtering through rolling clouds.

Hours had slipped by since the first ambush, and though they had killed all of them, the mountains only seemed to tighten their grip of dread.

The first bodies lay far behind them, but what awaited ahead was even worse.

Corpses littered the trails in grotesque displays,broken bones twisted at unnatural angles, blood splattered across unforgiving stone, lifeless eyes staring blankly at an indifferent sky.

Arthur sat in the lead truck, his cold gaze fixed ahead.

His face bore smears of blood; his suit was streaked with dark stains,some from enemies and others from his own men.

Yet he displayed no emotion. His jaw was set firm, movements precise. Inside him, however, turmoil twisted like a coiled serpent.

The Shadow Lord Regalia enveloped him like a shield, its strange powers reducing fatal wounds to mere cuts and bruises.

Without it, he knew he would have already crumpled under the weight of despair pressing against his chest.

Kill or be killed,a mantra that echoed with every spray of bullets and each knife plunged into an enemy’s throat.

The System have already stripped away more than 30% of his emotions,fear, hesitation,guilt,mercy etc. but not entirely.

Beneath his cold facade lay fragments of who he once was, desperately clawing for air with every corpse that reminded him of lost humanity.

He crushed those thoughts and tightened his grip on his weapon.

Behind him stood Gunner, his towering figure radiating relentless vigilance.

He barked orders in clipped tones as his visor glowed faintly while scanning the rocky terrain.

His squad moved without hesitation: adjusting formations and keeping rifles angled at every potential blind spot.

Ethan slouched near the archaeologists’ truck with his rifle resting across his knees.

There were no jokes now; humor had been erased by the battlefield’s grim reality.

Mireille occasionally glanced at him as if daring him to speak up, but silence reigned between them.

The archaeologists fared worst among them. Huddled together inside their armored vehicle with faces pale and hands trembling, they hadn’t suffered a scratch,the armor ensured that but their minds were unprotected against horror.

Each peek through bulletproof slits revealed bloody carnage that turned stomachs; one vomited into a small bag while another pressed his forehead against glass in silent terror. They were safe but far from untouched.

And still, the mountain did not rest.

A day passed after surviving their first ambush, with help of the map and compass they moved forward. They navigated through a lot of terrains, dangerous ones at that.

On the second day after the first ambush,the second ambush came.

It began with shadows darting between rocks followed by an eerie whistle piercing through tension-filled air,then explosions ripped across their path.

BOOM! BOOM!

Dust engulfed the convoy as chaos erupted around them.

"Positions!" Gunner roared, his voice slicing through the chaos like a knife,"Suits, exposure systems ON!"

In an instant, the soldiers’ visors ignited with a vibrant glow. Thermal scans illuminated hostile figures, their outlines glowing ominously red against the rugged cliffs.

"Targets identified! Ten on the left ridge, five behind the rocks, three in front!" a soldier shouted, urgency lacing his words.

"Suppressing fire!"

Rifles erupted in a cacophony of sound.

Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!

Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!

Bullets ripped through stone and flesh alike; screams echoed across the battlefield.

Arthur sprang from the truck, rolling into cover with precision honed by countless battles. He emerged with both pistols raised high.

Ta-ta-ta!

Three enemies dropped instantly, each shot striking true to their heads.

Cold,efficient ans almost mechanical.

Next came his daggers,aman charged at him wielding a curved blade and screaming ferociously.

Arthur sidestepped effortlessly, twisted around him, and drove one dagger deep into his throat.

Blood sprayed warm across his arm as the body crumpled to the ground. There was no time to pause; he had work to do.

Gunner was a fortress of firepower, his heavy rifle trembling with recoil as he mowed down wave after wave of attackers.

Ethan finally found his voice amidst the chaos,hoarse but steady,as he shouted for the archaeologists to stay low while he and two commanders shielded their truck with disciplined bursts of gunfire.

The enemy attempted to descend from above, rappelling down the cliffs like vultures circling prey.

But Arthur was already there,sprinting up jagged stone faster than they anticipated,his blade slicing through ropes and sending bodies plummeting into the abyss below.

More figures emerged as gunfire raged on around them.

Ta-ta-ta-ta!

BOOM!

Grenades exploded nearby, sending chunks of rock raining down like deadly confetti. Soldiers dove aside instinctively, rolling across dirt and debris.

Fifteen minutes later, silence fell over what remained of that battleground,the ground soaked in crimson hues.

Arthur stood among lifeless corpses; his chest rose and fell rapidly while blood dripped from his daggers onto the earth below him.

His face betrayed nothing but faint tremors coursed through his hands as he sheathed his blades once more.

The convoy pressed onward into uncertainty. Time continues to passed by little by little. As they kept running into ambushes.

Then came another ambush,the third one and then a fourth! By the fifth attack, it was clear: they were being herded deeper into danger by unseen forces determined to see them dead.

Each encounter grew more intense than before: heavier weapons unleashed hellish firepower; sharper tactics ensnared them in deadly traps; swarms of enemies descended upon them like dark clouds blocking out hope itself.

By the sixth ambush, chaos erupted as rockets streaked through the air, crashing into the road with a deafening roar.

Trucks swayed dangerously, teetering on the brink of tipping over. Inside their armored refuge, the archaeologists screamed, clinging to one another as their vehicle lurched violently.

Arthur moved like a shadow across the battlefield,swift and merciless.

He struck without hesitation, pistols barking in both hands while daggers found their marks with deadly precision.

His movements were a dance of brutality; each step was deliberate, every action a calculated execution.

But with each fallen enemy, something inside him dimmed.

He felt it,a gnawing emptiness. The System had stripped away most of his emotions, yet memories seeped through like blood from a wound.

Faces of those he have killed seem to be following him.

Their eyes seemed to follow him from the lifeless bodies he left behind. Arthur fought against these thoughts; if he faltered even for a moment, his men would pay the price. If he hesitated, it would be his own life on the line.

"Boss!" Gunner’s voice cut through his haze like a knife.

Another wave surged from the right ridge. Without missing a beat, Arthur raised his pistols and unleashed bursts of gunfire.

Bang! Bang!.

The fifth ambush pushed them to their limits as enemies swarmed like relentless insects.

The sound of rifles rattled endlessly while explosions lit up the cliffs around them,the ground shook beneath their feet as violence reigned.

When silence finally fell, they stood amidst heaps of bodies,the mountain path behind them painted crimson in death’s wake.

Smoke drifted lazily into the sky like an ominous reminder of what had just transpired.

Arthur leaned against a rock, blood trickling down his chin and staining his battered suit, a grim testament to survival amid chaos.

The Shadow Lord Regalia held him together physically but fatigue weighed heavily on him; sweat dripped down his forehead and stung his eyes.

Peeking from their truck once more, the archaeologists’ faces were ashen; lips trembled in fear.

One fainted outright while another clutched at his chest as if trying to hold onto life itself, the carnage outside was beyond anything they could comprehend.

They pressed back against the walls of their vehicle, praying for an end to this nightmare.

Gunner checked on his men; some were injured and bleeding but miraculously alive, none dead yet thanks to their suits that had shielded them from worse injuries despite leaving bruises that would ache for days.

Ethan lit a cigarette with trembling hands; gone was his usual grin.

"I don’t like this," he muttered nervously, glancing around at their surroundings filled with too many organized foes lurking in wait.

Arthur stood silent, his gaze locked on the winding path that snaked deeper into the mountains.

His expression was as cold as the biting wind, but inside, a storm of thoughts raged.

They had taken countless lives,so many that it felt surreal. And yet, despite all this destruction, the relentless attacks showed no sign of stopping.

What was lurking in those shadows? What dark force awaited them?

He knew one thing for certain: he would have to confront it.