Mutant awakening: My evolution knows no bounds

Chapter 169 Cave ants

"So, you're the one who made this hole," Silas said flatly, his voice calm, his tone devoid of fear or urgency. His cold gaze lingered on the hulking figure of the mutant before him. "I should've guessed it was an ant-type mutant."

The massive creature clicked its mandibles in response, a sharp, metallic sound that echoed ominously through the cavernous space. Silas's sharp eyes flicked to the shadows surrounding it, a strange unease bubbling beneath his calm demeanor. Then, it hit him—a horrifying realization that made his breath hitch for a fraction of a second. Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

From the darkness, glowing green eyes began to multiply, one pair after another, emerging like ghostly specters.

"Don't tell me…" Silas murmured, his voice laced with disbelief and irritation. "There's an entire colony in here?"

As if in answer, the ground trembled beneath his feet, a rhythmic vibration that grew steadily louder. The clicking and scuttling of countless legs reverberated through the cavern. From the shadows, more Cave Ants poured into view, their monstrous forms skittering forward with unnerving coordination. Each one was the size of a small car, their black exoskeletons gleaming under the faint, fractured light.

Silas's expression darkened. His grip on the scythe tightened as he assessed the situation. Fighting a Grade 3 mutant alone was nothing to him—he could take one down without breaking a sweat. But this? A swarm? His thoughts briefly flashed to his earlier encounter with the mountain lions. It had been easy enough to handle them with the help of his clones and Lightning Dash, but now…

"Let's see what I can do without the clones this time," he mused aloud, his lips curling into a daring smirk. Without waiting for the ants to attack, Silas sprang into motion, dashing forward with speed that left the air humming in his wake.

The lead ant lunged at him, its massive, bladed foreleg slicing through the air like a guillotine. Silas's instincts kicked in, and he vaulted high into the air. The deadly appendage missed him by inches. While airborne, he twisted his body mid-spin, bringing his scythe down in a precise arc toward the mutant's head.

CLANG!

The blade connected with a deafening metallic sound. Instead of slicing through, the scythe rebounded off the creature's hardened exoskeleton, sparks flying from the impact. Silas landed lightly several feet away, his sharp gaze fixed on the ant.

"Tough skin… just as I suspected," he muttered under his breath.

There was no time to ponder further. Four more ants advanced on him, their razor-sharp forelegs thrusting forward with terrifying speed. Silas sidestepped the first, his movements so fluid they seemed almost rehearsed. The second and third strikes came faster, but Silas leaned backward at the last possible second, bending his body until his back was nearly parallel to the ground. The attacks whistled harmlessly over him.

In that split second, with the mutant's forelegs suspended above him, Silas seized the opportunity. He swung his scythe upward in a blindingly fast arc.

SLASH!

Dark purple blood sprayed across the cavern walls as two of the ant's legs were severed cleanly. The creature let out a piercing screech, its balance faltering. Silas moved like a shadow, sidestepping the final strike and countering with another horizontal swing. His scythe sliced cleanly through the last leg, sending the limb tumbling to the floor.

The maimed ant collapsed, writhing helplessly as ichor pooled beneath it. Its agonized screeches echoed through the cavern, mingling with the enraged cries of its brethren.

Silas smirked, his figure a blur as he dashed toward the next ant. This time, he targeted its legs with surgical precision. Three swift strikes were all it took to bring the hulking creature crashing to the ground.

Leaping high into the air, Silas raised his scythe above his head. His muscles coiled with power as he swung downward, the blade cutting through the ant's armored skull with a sickening crunch.

Dark purple blood gushed out, pooling around the creature as it twitched once, twice, then lay still. A notification blinked into existence before Silas, the familiar red screen hovering in front of him.

[Congratulations, you have slain a Grade 3 Cave Ant.]

Silas cast a brief glance at the notification before dismissing it with a wave of his hand. His attention returned to the remaining swarm, their enraged screeches filling the cavern as they charged toward him in unison.

"One down," he muttered to himself, tightening his grip on the scythe. His sharp eyes gleamed with anticipation.

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Elsewhere on Earth...

Far away, in a quiet and isolated corner of the world, lay the town of Willow Springs. Despite its quaint appearance, the town held a peculiar aura, as though it harbored secrets best left undiscovered.

In the outskirts of the town stood a tall, solitary building. Its weathered stone facade bore the scars of time, but it remained eerily well-maintained. Inside the dimly lit hall of this enigmatic structure, a group of people sat gathered around a large, round table.

The atmosphere was tense. The low murmurs of hushed conversations filled the air, only to be silenced as a single man raised his hand.

At the head of the table sat Charleston Windbreaker, the undisputed leader of Willow Springs. His presence alone commanded respect, his ornate chair elevating him above the others. Clad in a flowing white robe adorned with intricate red flower designs, he cut a striking figure despite his frail, aging body.

His face, etched with deep wrinkles, bore the weight of decades of experience. Sparse strands of white hair clung stubbornly to his head, framing a pair of piercing eyes that seemed to see far beyond the present moment.

The room fell silent as Charleston leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped in front of him. His gravelly voice carried an undeniable authority, silencing even the faintest whispers.

"Our time is running short," he began, his words measured and deliberate. "Prepare yourselves. Change is coming, and we must be ready for it."

The gathered individuals exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions a mix of apprehension and determination.

Charleston's gaze swept over them, his eyes narrowing. "This world is shifting, and we must decide whether we will adapt or be swept away."