Chapter Eighty-Eight: Evolution Island (XIV)

In the far western mountains of Evolution Island, within a winding and labyrinthine cave, lay a bottomless pool at the very heart of the cavern. Encircled by rugged rock walls, the area was adorned with clusters of emerald-green moss that glowed softly, casting a luminous brilliance throughout the cave. Beside the pool, sprawled on either side, were two colossal beasts, each the size of a truck, separated by only a few yards.

Both monsters possessed leonine heads and fiery red fur, yet their faces were eerily human. Their tails, two to three meters long and resembling scorpion stingers, hung limply at their sides. Upon closer inspection, one could see that their bodies were covered in wounds, blood blending into their crimson fur and drying unnoticed. There was, however, a distinct difference between them: one had shriveled, as if drained of all vitality, while the other still retained the vigor of a fresh corpse.

Battle scars littered the ground around their bodies. Deep claw marks were gouged into the stone, and several enormous craters suggested savage impacts from their clashes.

“I’ve wasted too much time here,” a voice suddenly echoed from within the beast whose body retained its vitality. Its frame convulsed violently, shrinking and withering. From beside its head, a young man emerged, clad in athletic attire, golden hair framing a wickedly handsome face. Blood stained his clothes—whether his own or the monsters’, it was unclear.

Player Ou Guyu has evolved into a sixth-tier creature! He is now the highest-ranked player on the island!

“Heh! While I dealt with these wounded scorpion-lions, someone’s already provoked the Volcano King? Excellent! This is my chance to evolve to the seventh tier. Now, having devoured two sixth-tier scorpion-lions, I am the king of this island! Hahaha!” Ou Guyu laughed gleefully, racing toward the volcano.

Meanwhile, in the vast southern forests, what once teemed with life now stood eerily silent. Not a bird sang, nor did insects stir; only sporadic screams pierced the deathly hush.

Blood stained every corner of the woods. Desiccated animal corpses lay scattered across the ground. A burly man in tattered robes, chest bare and face twisted with ferocity, glared disdainfully at a mighty lion before him. The former king of the forest now quivered, meek as a kitten, mane drooping as it stared in terror at the barbarian.

With a single slash, the barbarian felled the lion at his feet. He wiped his blade, savoring the blood as he licked it, then activated his devour skill, draining the lion into another shriveled husk.

Hearing a series of system notifications, he paused, then his gaze hardened as he looked into the distance. In a gruff voice, he muttered, “These bastards—who would’ve thought they’d surpass me so quickly? I’ve hunted so many creatures, and still haven’t evolved to the sixth tier. That second-tier brat—how did he leap six tiers at once?”

“Could it be my strategy is flawed? Seems it’s time to hunt down some other players—let them see why I’m called the Butcher Blade!” With a cruel smile, the Butcher Blade hefted his blood-stained saber and strode toward the volcano.

Far to the north, in the frozen wastelands, dim light filtered weakly through the mist, barely illuminating the land. Life here was suppressed by the relentless cold; only a few emaciated polar bears roamed, and otherwise, nothing stirred. After the system’s voice announcement, at the heart of this deathly silent realm, a massive ice crystal trembled.

Upon inspection, a figure was visible within the crystal. In this region, where temperatures averaged minus forty degrees, someone had survived! Even the protagonist, empowered by demonic transformation, would soon be wounded by the cold, and lingering too long could mean death. Yet here, a person lived within the ice, a feat bordering on the impossible.

The figure within stirred, creating space to move inside the crystal. Dressed in a blue robe, pale blue hair cascading down his back, he bore a face as cold as ancient ice, his features so refined they could quicken any maiden’s heart.

He glanced southward with calm detachment, hesitated briefly, and scoffed, “A bunch of fools—they’ll all die to devouring eventually.” With that, he closed his eyes once more, as if nothing had happened.

“Hey! Damn creature, you’re like a mad dog—don’t blame me for being ruthless!” Luo Hanya turned to look back, gritting his teeth in fury.

“Roar!” Monster Moray ignored Luo Hanya’s threats; perhaps he didn’t understand them at all. Still, Moray charged at Luo Hanya with savage abandon, intent on crushing the audacious intruder.

“Hmph! Ugly beast, come and catch me! If you do, I’ll—” Luo Hanya let out a long howl, only to have his words awkwardly censored by the system.

He gazed down at the endless plains below, then suddenly dove, burning what little spiritual energy remained. Fortunately, he had evolved into a fifth-tier creature; in his former state, his energy would have been depleted in the chase, let alone igniting it for a burst. Monster Moray followed close behind, his massive body now surprisingly agile, accelerating in a steep dive and closing the gap in an instant.

“Lowly worm, die!” Monster Harley suddenly spoke, no longer uttering meaningless roars. His voice was ancient and weighty. Though Luo Hanya had never heard such language, its meaning was clear.

Luo Hanya shifted, increasing his speed and narrowly dodging Harley’s treacherous strike. He turned back, making faces and taunting, “I leap, I dodge, you just can’t hit me! Frustrated? Helpless? Hahaha!” Clearly, Monster Harley possessed great intelligence—something Luo Hanya had already sensed, and he was deliberately holding back a move.

“Worm! You’ve stirred Harley’s wrath—prepare to die!” Harley’s human face opened wide, sucking streams of hot air into his maw. Suddenly, a beam of blackish-purple light appeared, searing and laden with destruction, so intense it sliced a thin fissure through the void itself.

“Harley’s Demon Flame!”

“Die!”