Fral Island!
Spanning an area of thirty-eight square kilometres, it was a mountainous island. The base of the mountain occupied half the island’s area, reaching a height of four kilometres. It was tall, giving the people here a perfect vantage point to survey large swathes of the Dralh Sea.
The strength of the Pranic Beasts in this region was high, with many powerful Silver Grade Pranic Beasts making their presence known during every Death Hour. There were even Gold Grade Pranic Beasts, but they never came close to the island and remained deep in the sea waters.
Seated at a protruding location on the mountain, at an altitude of eight hundred kilometres was a man aged twenty-three, sporting a lean, but toned physique. His skin glistened in the humid weather, with his eyes reflecting the ink-black sea.
This protruding part spanned an area of three hundred square metres and had a good breeze during most of the day time, very rare in the region. It became his favourite spot to lounge around when he wasn’t training.
The wind gently coiled around his bald head, gliding smoothly as he inhaled and exhaled softly. The very region seemed to be breathing along with him, heeding his every action.
Expert Gold Grade Pranic Beast—Empyrean Snapper!
That was the man’s identity. He was the first successful Empyrean Snapper to be born without any genetic defects, the first of his kind to be born perfect.
During the Death Hour, Wittral generally leapt into the Dralh Sea to face the powerful Silver Grade Pranic Beasts there. Since he hadn’t matured yet, he avoided the Gold Grade Pranic Beasts.
The plasma layer posed no threat to him. Rather, it simply served as a tool that heeded his orders, becoming one among the many weapons at his disposal during a fight.
By fighting against the Silver Grade Pranic Beasts, he trained, getting more and more accustomed to battles. He intended to continue training for a few more decades, after which he would head beyond the Dralh Sea and face Pranic Beasts that roamed the land.
After his fights concluded, Wittral returned to his favourite spot where he would meditate and connect with the nature. Thereby, he became more attuned to using his Primary Nature to control his surroundings.
As the perfect form of his species, he was the forerunner that would change the Cooter Clan. Hence, shouldering a lot of expectations, Wittral worked hard for his race’s goal of attaining the Mystic Grade, ‘One day, we’ll reach it.’
“Hmm?” His attention was suddenly diverted to a blue dot on the ink-black sea, drifting towards the Fral Island. He focused, observing a humanoid entity standing atop a raft while brandishing claw attacks toward the Pranic Beasts that leaped out repeatedly.
“A Free Human?” Wittral muttered, disinterested, since there were thousands of them working for his Clan. Just like the rest of the Cooter Clan, he considered Free Humans as their servants. That seemed to be the perfect position for the Free Humans who were too weak to survive on their own.
“Wait…this level of strength seems unusual,” Wittral muttered upon seeing a familiar Iron Grade Pranic Beast be shredded into two with one hit, “A Free Human can’t do that.”
The Free Humans he had seen to date were all at the Spirit Stage. And the majority of them had Prana in the single digits. Hence, he had never witnessed a Free Human in action that wasn’t batshit weak.
His interest was captured as Wittral leapt from the edge, causing air to surge around his body and slow down his descent. He made long leaps, descending almost a hundred metres with every jump, his footsteps light, almost soundless.
The ground turned soft upon coming into contact with his foot, naturally absorbing all the momentum behind his jump, as a result preventing his legs from feeling any shock.
Casually reaching the shore in a matter of seconds, his eyes widened in surprise to see the fighting figure collapse into the water, releasing a sharp scream for an instant before silence ensued.
‘They are probably from the outside world.’ It had been forever since a Free Human garnered his interest. Unwilling to lose such an interesting individual who might be able to tell him interesting tales, Wittral leaped on the sea and bent forward.
Waves were generated under his feet as his figure shot forward like a motor boat, speeding towards the raft in less than twenty seconds. “Scram!”
A ripple of Prana blasted out and sent the Pranic Beasts scurrying away in fear. Wittral then noticed the stone slab acting as a raft was on the verge of shattering, sporting too many cracks from repeated battles.
Laid on it in a bloody state, with a lack of legs from under the knee, suffering from third-degree burns was a human woman, at least someone that seemed like that. Her hair was burning, caught aflame by the intense heat while most of the skin on her face had peeled off.
lightsΝοvεl ?οm “Is she…alive?” Wittral muttered as he inched closer, noticing one of the lady’s eyes was blood red, oozing blood. He made a sweep of her body using his Prana, observing that she was alive, “Alright.”
Waves formed under the raft and quickly carried it to the shore. Gentle winds condensed under the lady, lifting her up as her figure landed atop a small cloud that began to scale up the mountain. Soon, it reached his favourite spot.
“Hmm…” After a moment of thought, Wittral tapped the ground, causing it to churn as rocky walls jutted out. In a matter of seconds, an intricately carved stone house appeared. The plant life in the vicinity moved under his order and covered the stone house, making it comfortable to stay within.
Grass coiled to form a soft mattress on which he placed the lady, observing her marine blue clothes were in tatters. He stared at her, noticing that she was on the verge of death, having sustained life-threatening injuries and had also lost too much blood.
“Nurnur, come here.” He snapped his finger, producing a crisp sound. Ten seconds later, there was a figure kneeling at the entrance of the house, a bald woman dressed in black, revealing her presence at the 6-Life Stage. Noticing her arrival, Wittral commanded, “Bring me a Healing and Recovery Vial.”
“Yes,” The bald woman clothed in black, Nurnur disappeared and returned after thirty seconds, sending two vials flying into Wittral’s hand, asking upon seeing him cork them and pour into the near-death lady’s mouth, “Isn’t it a waste to use it on a Free Human?”
“What do you know,” Wittral commented with a mild tone of disdain, “She’s a Free Human at the Body Stage. She’s unlike the ones serving us. So, I’m curious to know about her.”
“How is life for the Free Humans outside the Cooter Clan’s protection?” Wittral said, “I have always been curious about that.”
“Koff! Kahh!” The wounded lady coughed nonstop as her body trembled erratically. Suddenly, Prana surged out of her body and condensed to her knees, rapidly regenerating her legs. Her burnt skin peeled off as a new, pristine layer formed in a matter of minutes.
‘What a waste of a high-rank medicine.’ Nurnur silently expressed her dismissal.
Luscious hair jutted out of the lady’s head, followed by her eyebrows, revealing a breathtaking countenance. Right as the hair on the eyelids finished growing, her eyes shot open, in alarm, noticing her clothes were in disarray, focusing on the figure of Wittral in proximity to glare in anger, “Who are you?”
“What have you done to me?”