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Chapter 125 - Pangea (IV)
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 05:25:57 +0000 UTC“So, that over there should secure us a source of drinkable water,” Alonso said, locking his gaze on a narrow, winding stream carving its way down the cliffside, its clear water pooling in small basins among the rocks below, surrounded by lush patches of primitive greenery and thick ferns.
“As for meat, I’m not exactly thrilled about eating anything those arthropods can offer,” he added, wrinkling his nose. “But hopefully, there’s something down there we can hunt. Maybe some kind of… what was it, tetrapods? Or maybe I’ll get lucky with a sea creature or even a crustacean. I’m not picky at this stage,” he said with a grin, savoring the fresh breeze hitting his face.
“Sounds like a plan. So, you gonna head down or…?” Houston asked.
Alonso paused, looking up at the sky. The sun hung heavy and hazy, its light diffused through a strange, thick atmosphere that tinted everything in a greenish-yellow hue. Nothing like the bright blue skies he was used to.
“Nah,” he replied finally. “I think I’ll hunt a few more of those bugs first. I’m not confident I can reach 49 today, but half should be doable.”
“Well, your choice. Though I’d suggest getting a bite and drink first,” Houston replied, his tone mildly reproachful.
"I’m not that fragile, Houston," Alonso said with a grin, rolling his sword around his hand—a habit he was growing fond of.
He took a deep breath, then headed back toward the barren terrain.
Now that he wasn’t just trying to escape the zone but actively hunting for orbs, he felt more at ease, focusing on spots where he might find one of the arthropods.
“Houston, I’ll leave the data gathering to you,” he called as he ran forward. “Help me make this quick.”
***
Stage 1 - 3.293%
Alonso yanked his arm out of the creature’s skull. Thankfully, its blood wasn’t harmful to his skin, but the smell… oh, the smell.
“I thought you’d be used to it by now,” Houston teased. “Anyway, that’s the 20th one since the trial started. Just 29 more to go.”
“How long has it been?” Alonso asked, jumping down and landing in a low crouch, sending a cloud of dust and ash billowing around him.
“Since the start? 15 hours and 22 minutes,” Houston replied. “An average of 46 minutes per hunt.”
“Well, these bastards are pretty spread out. Would be nice if there was a nest or something,” Alonso muttered, looking around the desolate terrain.
"Keep an eye out for clusters of tracks or patterns in the dust," Houston reminded him. "I've been running simulations based on your route—but there is only so much I can do."
Alonso nodded, then set off again, scanning the landscape for any sign of clustered tracks.
Barely 15 minutes had passed when he detected an extremely faint vibration in the natural field around them. A fight?
“Houston?”
“Six o'clock from your position. Shouldn’t be too far,” Houston replied, his tone serious. “Be careful. I’ll set Overdrive to 15% now, just in case.”
Overdrive 15%
Alonso stopped, adjusted his route, and picked up a slightly faster pace. He felt his body subtly strengthening as the stage progress advanced. If only he could reach a point where he could ignore the atmosphere around here.
As he got closer, he felt the vibrations intensify. Seemed like an arthropod… but was it in a fight? A human, maybe?
For some reason, his pulse quickened, and he pushed his pace to over 60 km/h.
Soon, he reached a cluster of large rocks forming a small hill. With a series of swift leaps, he vaulted over, his senses fully alert.
And then he saw it. Still over a mile away, but unmistakable.
Someone was locked in combat with the arthropod.
Even with his enhanced vision, Alonso couldn’t make out the human’s features from this distance—too far.
He paused, considering his options, then decided to get closer. He’d decide what to do once he had a better view.
He sprinted forward, observing the scene as he closed the gap. The human seemed to be using a sling, keeping his distance and relying on ranged attacks to stay out of the creature’s reach. Alonso saw him crouch, likely gathering rocks from the ground as his ammunition ran low.
Finally, at half a kilometer away, he could make out the face of the fighter. It was a young man, possibly Indian, though Alonso wasn’t entirely sure. He seemed… young, almost too young to be out here.
Alonso stopped, positioning himself behind a cluster of boulders to stay hidden.
“What’s the plan?” Houston asked. “I recognize that kid—saw him at Siddharth’s duel. Let’s just say, if looks could kill, he’d have had you six feet under with the glare he gave you.”
“Is that so?” Alonso murmured, eyes narrowing as he studied the young man. Then, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “He’s handling it well enough—should win if he keeps his breathing steady and holds his ground. But… since I’m already here, might as well give him a proper introduction, don’t you think, Houston?”
“And here I thought you weren’t fond of playing a villain,” Houston teased.
“There are plenty of things I hate,” Alonso replied, suddenly surging forward with a smile. “But this isn’t one of them.”
Overdrive 40%
He sprang forward, accelerating to nearly 85 km/h, covering the remaining distance in mere seconds.
The young man’s head snapped up as he spotted Alonso, his expression shifting from shock to intense apprehension. But that wasn’t all—there was fear in his eyes, and anger simmering just beneath it.
Good.
Alonso leapt onto the arthropod, barely breaking his stride as he moved along its armored back. He used the gaps in its segmented shell to grip and propel himself forward, each step measured and light. Within moments, he reached the creature’s head, drew his blade, and severed its antennae in a swift, calculated slice. The creature lurched, thrashing wildly in disorientation, its limbs flailing as it struggled to make sense of its surroundings.
Landing lightly on the ground, Alonso let it flail for a moment, his gaze fixed on the young man nearby. And then, with a slight tilt of his head, he smiled.
That seemed to strike a nerve.
The young man’s eyes darkened as he gripped his sling tighter, winding it up to gain momentum, a flicker of determination in his face. Alonso watched with a kind of fond amusement, fully aware of every subtle shift in the boy’s stance, each micro-adjustment he made. The instant the stone was about to be released, Alonso ‘saw’ the trajectory play out, the arc and end-point clear as day.
Trying to use a sling while he was at 40% Overdrive?
Laughable.
He sidestepped, a barely visible movement, watching the projectile sail harmlessly past him, skimming off a distant rock. He met the young man’s gaze, his smile widening.
“Nice try,” Alonso said, his tone friendly, almost playful. He took a slow, measured step forward. “I appreciate the spirit, though. Got a name?”
The young man’s expression hardened, his grip on the sling tightening as he prepared to launch another shot.
“If I were you, I’d try something else,” Alonso remarked, still smiling. But his expression shifted as he scanned the young man, something missing. “Where’s your sword, by the way?”
The boy’s face flushed an even deeper red, his eyes flashing with irritation as he fired another projectile. Alonso tilted his head slightly, letting it sail past with minimal effort. But as the anger grew in the young man’s face, realization dawned on Alonso.
Oh… will you look at that. What are the odds?
“So,” Alonso drawled, his tone amused, “you were the one who gave Siddharth his blade? And… apparently didn’t even take it back. Bad choice, kid,” he said, his voice dropping with a hint of warning. “That sword’s more important than you think.”
Alonso took a slow, taunting step forward, his gaze darkening. The young man’s defiance faltered, his anger mingling with a flicker of hesitation. But he held firm, gritting his teeth as Alonso approached. In a last-ditch attempt, he kicked up a cloud of dust, sidestepped, and fired off another slingshot, then reached behind his back to draw a small bone dagger before rushing forward.
Alonso’s eyes narrowed, already anticipating the sand-in-the-face move. He closed his eyes against the dust, deftly deflected the slower projectile with a slight flick of his sword, and sidestepped the thrust of the dagger.
Before the young man could react, Alonso caught his wrist in an iron grip, twisted slightly, then used his left foot to trip him up. The boy’s balance broke, and with a quick pull, Alonso sent him flying, rolling across the dirt, landing with a thud.
The young man scrambled to his feet, breathing hard, face flushed, his stance tense as he glared at Alonso with renewed determination.
“Nice effort,” Alonso said with a smirk, letting the words hang, daring the boy to try again.
The kid was covered in dirt, his face scratched and dusty, but the anger remained, a fierce desire to kill boiling just beneath the surface.
I guess that should be good enough. Time to collect my pay.
Alonso leapt backward, soaring over three meters off the ground, and brought the pommel of his sword down on the skull of the approaching arthropod. Two powerful, calculated strikes cracked through the armor, and with one final shove, he drove his arm into the breach, even as the creature continued to twitch.
Stage 1 - 3.296%
He jumped off, shaking bits of brain tissue from his arm.
He glanced back at the kid, who stood there breathing heavily. Alonso noted the ragged breaths—risky in this toxic environment—but he brushed it off.
The kid didn’t move, just glared, locking eyes with Alonso for a tense moment… then turned and bolted in the opposite direction.
At least you’re not stupid.
Alonso smiled, turning to head off in a different direction. He was starting to feel the pangs of hunger, but hitting eight more bugs first felt doable.
Comments
MrTemplar
It’s interesting to see the divergence in Alonso and Houston’s personality
