Chapter 292: Emergence of more chaos
The beach had gone from total chaos to a stunned, breathless hush.
The moon poured silver light over the torn-up sand, the craters, the broken blades scattered like fallen stars. Alaric lay half in the surf, half on the wet shore, his massive body still. Ten or more black blades stuck out of him like dark thorns—chest, stomach, shoulders, legs. Blood pooled beneath him, mixing with the incoming waves, turning the water dark around his green-black skin. His red eyes were open, staring at nothing. No glow. No breath. No movement.
The crowd started slow, like they couldn’t believe it was over.
"Zero! Zero! Zero!"
One voice, then two, then dozens. It rolled across the beach, growing louder, stronger. People threw their hands in the air, hugged strangers, jumped up and down. Someone started banging on an empty cooler like a drum. Phones flashed. Laughter mixed with tears. Someone screamed "We’re alive!" and the words spread like wildfire.
I stood in the center of it all, black coat torn and dusted with sand, sword still in my hand. My chest rose and fell hard. Sweat ran down my face, mixing with the salt air.
"Phew..." I let out a long breath, shoulders dropping. "That shit was extreme."
I muttered to myself, "And now I’m seriously drained way too much."
With a small flick of my wrist, the black sword vanished into thin air, dissolving into wisps of purple-black smoke that drifted away on the wind. I rolled my neck, feeling every ache, every spot where his punches had landed.
I remembered Afa must be at the hospital. She took a vital hit and went out cold. Lyra must be there with her.
*Should I head over there?* I thought. *Afa took a vital hit. Lyra’s with her, but...*
Before I could decide, my instincts flared. Something moved.
A thin trail of red smoke rose from Alaric’s body—slow at first, then thicker, curling upward like smoke from a dying fire. It wasn’t his aura. It was something else. Something darker, hungrier.
The chants died mid-word. People noticed. Heads turned. Whispers spread.
"Oye, what’s that smoke?" a guy near the front asked, voice low.
"Is he still not dead?" a girl beside him whispered, clutching her boyfriend’s arm.
Another guy put his hand on his head, exasperated. "Damn, not again..."
I locked my gaze on Alaric’s body. No heartbeat. No energy. But the smoke kept rising, twisting into strange patterns above him.
I thought to myself, *Nah, he’s dead. I don’t sense anything from him—no heart, no aura. That smoke... it’s something else. For something else.*
The crowd shifted uneasily. Phones came back up, shaky hands trying to zoom in.
I took one slow step forward, boots crunching on broken glass-sand.
The red smoke thickened, curling upward like fingers reaching for the sky. The air grew colder. The waves slowed. The fireworks overhead fizzled out one by one.
I tightened my grip on nothing—my sword was gone, but my aura was still there, humming low and ready.
The island held its breath again because whatever was coming next, it wasn’t over. Not yet.
The beach lay in stunned silence under the moon’s cold light. The waves rolled in slow and quiet, lapping at the blood-soaked sand around Alaric’s body. His red eyes stared blankly at the sky, no longer glowing, no longer alive. The broken stump of his sword lay nearby, dull and useless now. The crowd stood scattered, some still hugging, some wiping tears, others frozen with phones raised—everyone waiting for me to say something, to confirm it was really over.
But the air felt wrong. Thick. Heavy. Like the night itself was holding its breath again.
I turned slowly, scanning the horizon, the dunes, the dark water. My aura hummed low around me, searching, feeling.
*The air... the height it’s reaching...* I thought. *It feels like a call. Like someone lit a flare to tell them your position.*
I frowned. "Who is he calling?" I muttered under my breath. "I don’t see anyone."
*Blurp... blurp...*
The sea behind Alaric’s body answered.
Small bubbles rose, then bigger ones. The water started churning, waves slapping harder against the shore. A low rumble came from beneath the surface, deep and hungry.
"There..." I said, voice sharp. "Something’s coming."
The crowd caught it too. A man near the front pointed, voice cracking. "Hey—look at the water!"
His friend squinted. "What the hell...?"
*THUD. THUD. FWOOOSH!*
The ocean exploded.
Countless shapes burst from the dark waves—hundreds of them. Green-black skin slick with seawater, jagged teeth bared in hungry grins, eyes glowing bright red. They carried weapons: curved blades, spiked clubs, long spears, chains with hooks. Horns curled from some heads. Others had goblin-like faces, squat and vicious. Armor clinked as they marched forward through the surf, boots splashing, eyes locked on the beach.
The crowd screamed.
"There are monsters coming here!" a man yelled, stumbling backward.
"Oh no! There are too many!" a girl cried, grabbing her friend’s arm.
They poured out of the water in endless ranks, grinning, growling, weapons raised. The moonlight caught their teeth and the edges of their blades, turning them into silver knives.
One of them—taller, with curling black horns—stepped forward, scanning the beach. His voice rumbled low and amused.
"Looks like General Alaric is dead."
Another, shorter and goblin-like with a scarred face, laughed, licking its lips.
"And now we can go wild as much as we want. There seems to be lots of delicious humans out here."
The crowd backed up fast. Some ran toward the villas. Others froze, too scared to move. Phones dropped into the sand. Kids clung to parents. A woman screamed as the first row of monsters stepped onto dry sand, water streaming off them.
I stood alone between the crowd and the army, black coat still billowing, sword in my hand again. My aura flared once—purple-black light washing over me.
"Woahhh..." I said, taking them all in with a slow, dangerous smirk. "So he wasn’t alone."
I cracked my neck once. The monsters saw me.
The horned one tilted his head. "That’s the one who killed the General."
The goblin grinned wider. "Then we eat him first."
I laughed—short, sharp, fearless.
"Try it."
Behind me, the crowd watched, hearts pounding.
The monsters started forward. I raised my hand. The island held its breath again. Because the fight wasn’t over. It had just grown a hundred times bigger.
