Ten minutes after the Cooter Clansmen on Roit Island left to inform the Cooter Clan, the Sumatra Ship arrived ashore. Inala got down and began to set up the operating table.
Roit Island had a massive population of Free Humans, numbering fifteen thousand. It would take him close to three days to extract the Spirit Containers of them all. Of course, Inala didn’t have that much time.
Hence, he had to be quick about things. Until now, he had only extracted Spirit Containers from Free Humans on Fral Island. There were more than ten islands where the Free Humans had been fed the Mystic Mist Elixir.
But as all of them were more or less the size of Leh Island, he could be done with each in a matter of hours. Therefore, he could hit those islands, exterminate the Cooter Clansmen stationed there, extract the Spirit Containers from the Free Humans and make his escape.
Before the Cooter Clan even notices what is happening, Inala would have long left the island.
But that wasn’t possible on Roit Island, since it had a massive population. He needed three days. Therefore, he couldn’t arrive here and be done quickly, since it was a major resource point.
A master would be stationed in the place. And considering the sensitivity of the situation, there was a good chance the master hid at least one body. This way, even if the rest of his bodies were to die, the final body would escape with the information and relay it to the Cooter Clan.
If that were to happen, the Cooter Clan would learn all his plans. Therefore, before the master in charge of Roit Island returned, he had to be done with this place.
‘Three days is pushing my luck too much. But let’s see how it fares.’ Thinking as such, Inala busied himself.
…
Four Empyrean Snappers moved for a bit before stopping, remaining patient. They were clearly aware of the Boar King’s strength. Just the four of them weren’t enough to injure him, not to mention save Wittral from his grasp.
Therefore, they were waiting for a sizeable number of Empyrean Snappers on the Dralh Sea to arrive. The closest ones numbered 24 Empyrean Snappers. And upon moving at top speed, could converge in three days. The rest were too far away.
The news was also being spread further beyond the Dralh Sea, alerting the Cooter Clan situated in various marine terrains. They too had begun to mobilise, but it would take them a while to arrive, possibly months depending on the distance. It was unsure how long the Boar King would wait patiently.
Hence, they had to take the risk and face the Boar King prematurely. The deaths of one or two Empyrean Snappers didn’t matter, as long as they saved Wittral. Too much was riding on him. He was an irreplaceable asset of the Cooter Clan.
By the end of the third day of mobilisation, 28 Empyrean Snappers had gathered, accompanied by 28 Settlement Leaders. Everyone else part of the Settlement had evacuated to a safer location far away.
Standing on the mountain of an Empyrean Snapper was the old man who took care of Wittral. His expression was twisted, pulsating with Prana in a murderous rage, ‘I don’t care what happens next, the Boar King must die!’
‘How dare he target Wittral?’ He wasn’t the sole individual sharing this sentiment. Every Settlement Leader in the region too had the same thought, ready to clobber the Boar King with their strongest attacks.
At that moment, one of the mountains gently rose up, for the first time in centuries revealing its head. Shaped like a turtle head, sporting whirlpool-like patterns with deep indentations, jagged spikes on its back that resembled horns, and a neck that stretched for…two…three…five…ten kilometres.
The Empyrean Snapper’s neck spanned a length of ten kilometres, appearing like an infinitely extending bridge. Coral scales jutted its neck, acting as a layer of mineral protection, with every single piece of it being a Spirit Weapon that heeded the Empyrean Snapper’s every thought.
Peeking out from the sides were flippers, each spanning a kilometre long, numbering eight on either side. The frontmost flippers were the longest, reaching a length of two kilometres. The rearmost flippers were the shortest, barely reaching a kilometre at adulthood.
There existed a short tail at the rear, stubby, only spanning forty metres in length. Its only function was to make contact with the water and generate currents upon touch, propelling the Empyrean Snapper forward.
Prana then surged into the mountain on its back, causing the Spirit Pools to increase in size. Gradually, the Empyrean Snappers were entering a battle-ready state, intending to fight the Boar King without giving the latter any advantage over them.
“Let’s go save Wittral.” The old man announced as the 28 Empyrean Snappers moved in the direction mentioned in the Water Slip handed out by Wittral.
Reports arrived at the Cooter Clan not from one Clansman, but from many, all carrying the same piece of information. Based on the data in the Water Slip, the old man concluded that Wittral intended for the Cooter Clan to stay away.
But in the case they decide to face the Boar King, they ought to come up with a plan that can kill the Boar King. That was Wittral’s intention, as expressed in the Water Slip. And everyone unanimously voted for the second option.
Wittral wasn’t someone who could be replaced. And they intended to fight to the end for that.
…
[I’m Here!]
“Can’t you just shut up?” The Boar King grumbled in annoyance, clearly able to perceive by now that the source of the voice didn’t seem alive, ‘Is it an ability that can mimic Gannala’s voice?’
“There’s a possibility,” He muttered in his Empyrean Boar King form and continued to sprint through a large marsh, following which he entered a forest and was steadily closing in on the sound, ‘Bastard! You better not escape this time.’
[Why are you so slow, Brangara? I ate, shat, and slept five times since I called you. Why are you so slow for a Mystic Grade Pranic Beast? That’s so disappointing.]
Now there was a barrage of nonsense, the majority of which was of minimal value towards the Boar King. But what could he do other than to hear it, since the voice came from Gannala, someone he wished to kill.
Even though the Supreme Tusk created by using his race as fuel was no more, her successor was still alive. For Brangara, that was more than enough of an opportunity to exact revenge.
Soon, he arrived before the Dralh Sea and leapt nonchalantly, plunging into the water. With an open of his mouth, a dozen Iron Grade Pranic Beasts were swallowed.
The Boar King observed their Primary Natures and extracted them out of his Astral Chart, for they were useless for his purpose. He soon came across a suitable Silver Grade Pranic Beast, which to him, was no different from an Iron Grade Pranic Beast.
He swallowed it and activated its Primary Nature, allowing water currents to form naturally underneath him and carry him forward. This allowed him to swim through the dangerous Dralh Sea at a faster pace.
Soon, he approached a large island seemingly made out of loose sand. Upon seeing that they were grey sand, but without the power of the Sandy-Grey Void in them, he observed in wonder, ‘How did the grey sand appear here?’
Upon recalling the fact that the Mudropper had vanished, he suspected the culprit of the current situation to be the same, ‘But a Mudropper can’t travel for more than a kilometre per day. Just how did it travel all the way here in such a short period?’
“Maybe there’s a lot more to this than what I can figure out for the time being.” He muttered and stared in anger, making a powerful leap to head towards the centre of the desert island from where Gannala’s voice was resounding nonstop all along.
There was a small twister in the centre of the desert island. Its winds seemed fierce, not that they mattered to the Boar King. And carried into the air by this twister was the grey sand, creating a dust cloud.
Boom!
The Boar King landed right before the dust cloud and roared, “Come out!”
“Let me see which rat has the guts to challenge me.”
“I do,” A calm voice resounded as a shadowy silhouette appeared behind the dust cloud generated by the tornado. A pair of decently ripped arms, accentuated by a toned body, and a style of hair that casually rearranged itself with every wind.
“Who…are you?” The Boar King felt an odd sense of familiarity from the shadow. He extended his hand and clapped, having activated an ability.
Astral Chart—Prana Shock x2!
The dust cloud cleared away, revealing a familiar figure standing still in the centre of the desert island, with his back facing the Boar King. In his hand was an instrument that was playing baby Gannala’s voice in a loop.
[I’m Here!]
“You better answer before I lose my damn patience and destroy this island!” The Boar King said calmly, intending to appraise the strength of the ant before him.
“Relax,” A calm, overly familiar voice with minor differences resounded. The figure turned around, revealing a face masked by a boar’s mask.
“Hmph!” The Boar King snorted in disdain and flicked his index finger, unleashing a minor shockwave that accurately shattered the man’s mask, causing it to sprinkle down in pieces.
As the pieces fell, the figure’s face was revealed, stunning the Boar King at the stark similarity. And right at that moment, adding a touch of spice to it, the figure opened his mouth and uttered three shocking, almost disturbing words. “Hello,”
“Big Brother!”