Chapter 224: We meet again
The rowdy tavern suddenly calmed into jarring silence in that single moment.
Everyone’s gaze turned towards the batwing doors, as a faint scent of pollen and wet soil drifted through the air.
In this tavern, though not all were of equal might, everyone present was an expert, so naturally they all felt an alarming flare in their instincts.
Powerful experts—ones unlikely to be seen in a small settlement like Greenfold—were approaching.
And only a single group fit this bill: the scary group of big shots who had suddenly shown up within their settlement weeks ago... the Treants.
Audible gulps rang out as once-proud alien evolvers shrank their heads, staring down at the table, not daring to make a single noise.
Seth and the others felt an inexplicable pressure mount over them, as Malgo hopped off the bar top, tucking himself into a hiding spot.
He really wasn’t joking when he said his race had problems with the Treants. Death would be his sentence if he dared show his face before those guys.
Seth’s fists clenched, his Amethyst pupils glowing as a small creak rang out, both batwing doors swinging open as a group of six stepped in.
That same pale skin, pulsing green glyphs, and their haunting emerald pupils surrounded by a sea of black.
The image in Seth’s mind overlapped. ’Sigh... I was right after all. It was them,’ he thought.
Even when communicating with Malgo, to be sincere Seth still held a sliver of doubt within his heart.
His gaze clashed with the leader spearheading the Treants’ group—the same guy Seth had struggled to restrict last time, all so they could escape.
Seth recalled the shiver that once coursed through his cells back during their first encounter, the unfathomable depths he felt this Treant’s aura to have.
But now?
His eyes flashed. He could feel all of it. These Treants couldn’t just stare at him from a peak Seth couldn’t fathom anymore.
"We didn’t get to introduce ourselves properly the last time we met..." Vamel spoke with a calm smile, his gaze locked with Seth’s.
A figure gritting his teeth from behind snorted, "Hmph, they were so preoccupied with escaping with their tails tucked between their ass!"
Seth’s eyes flashed as he recognized the second speaker. This was the single individual among the group of six that had engaged Seth and his friends, forcing them to flee back to Earth.
But that was in the past. Sensing the fool’s presence now, he could tell this dude had barely gotten any stronger. He shook his head inwardly—unworthy of his resentment.
He turned his gaze back to Vamel. "I assume you guys came here for us?" Seth asked, his tone neither too nice nor too cold.
Vamel smiled, showcasing a faint glint of his crystalline jade teeth, walking forward in slow, steady steps.
Seth’s hair billowed, his aura flaring as the temperature of the tavern dropped, causing the Treants to stop.
Vamel’s eyes gleamed. ’So strong. With this growth speed, it seems we really did hit the jackpot!’ He could already feel a subtle hint of danger—one that hadn’t been present a few weeks ago.
Normally, for an evolver to grow so strong in such limited time, it only meant they had been grinding in monster zones of the Origin Realm nonstop.
This wasn’t something just any random evolver could attempt. From a hegemon race or not, you still needed guts, talent, and luck!
Yet... yet Seth seemed to have achieved this without the effort. This told the Treants two things: not only were these unknown race groups crazy talented...
Their home planet also had to be rich in Origin essence and resources, to facilitate such growth in such little time while not in the Origin Realm.
The Treants felt a surge of excitement. Stalking the Greenfold settlement had paid off after all.
Seth’s head tilted to the side, his eyes still carrying zero emotions. He asked, "I asked you a question!"
His voice rang, and breaths held.
The evolvers around, unable to resist the urge, glanced at Seth in shock. Did this guy know who he was talking to?
Even Malgo, in his hiding spot, peeped from a corner, unable to understand Seth’s thought process.
He had already explained how terrifying the Treants were. They were powerful C-tier race members that had taken over the entire Greenfold settlement in a single day of their arrival.
Heck, they didn’t even have to take it over—the Settlement Lord handed it to them on a silver platter!
This was the first zone of the Origin Realm. All creatures here were of the Awakened Rank. Naturally, grade was the power structure that held hierarchy.
So when a bunch of Noble-grade geniuses entered a poor settlement in the outskirts that barely had some Leader grades as its strongest, this was only a natural treatment.
Glancing at Seth’s back, Malgo suddenly felt he hadn’t expressed the terror of the Treants enough to this dumb fool.
Contrary to the reaction everyone expected, Vamel didn’t react to Seth’s words. His smile remained easygoing, his gaze locked on Seth the whole time.
Clasping his hands behind his back, he replied, "Naturally, we are here for you all..."
Seth glanced at the surrounding evolvers. "So who told you?" he asked again, feeling curious about how they had been found.
Plus, adding the fact that the six came at once, it was clear these guys were sure Seth would be here. And the only way Seth could imagine that would be possible was if there was an informant.
This time it wasn’t Vamel who spoke, but the petite female Treant beside him. Seth recognized her well.
A figure who gave off a presence no less dangerous than Vamel... Shaine.
"We don’t receive services from trash like these," Shaine commented disdainfully. "We marked you since the moment you returned to the Origin Realm. We have been tracking you all since your trail led to the trade center."
Seth couldn’t even begin to fathom how they had been marked, but this made him realize they hadn’t been cautious enough.
Eyes flashing, Seth didn’t linger on the subject. "I see. So answer me this... what do you want from us?"
Rows of emerald pupils across the six simmered. Vamel’s grin suddenly widened, displaying a row of jade-green teeth. "Well, let’s just say, you have something we want..."
Seth played dumb. "Oh? What could we have that high and mighty figures like you might need?" he asked with a blink.
Vamel said nothing. Shaking his head, he turned his gaze from Seth, his demeanor turning cold as his icy gaze washed over the small crowd of evolvers. He ordered, "I give you all three seconds to scram!"
It didn’t need to be said twice. As though given imperial pardon, the poor guys wasted zero time scrambling away. Some, unable to squeeze through the door, burst through walls with their large frames.
They were given a chance to live. They could pay the debt of damages later, but if they pissed off the Treants?
No amount of payment could keep their heads on their necks.
Within seconds, the entire street—heck, the entire district of this edge of the settlement—was left empty.
No one wanted to take chances! This was a world where the strong squashing the weak was natural. Though death was not permanent, the pain? Very real.
Behind the bar top, Malgo dared not leave. He lamented silently, cursing his luck. In his position, if he dared show himself, there was no way he’d escape the sight of all six Treants.
So now, in the tavern, only eleven figures remained.
Seth was about to speak, but Vamel cut him off. "Enough with the banter. I don’t like waiting."
Waving his hands, he signaled his team to strike...
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