He felt an unbearable pressure closing in around him, like the very air had turned thick, almost solid. His breaths caught in his throat. Even the beasts that had been shrieking moments ago fell eerily silent. Their corpses froze mid-motion, trembling as if death itself had stepped into their midst.
The tribal leaders who had been locked in brutal combat—those who had once terrorized the entire battlefield—were now nothing more than pools of blackened blood staining the earth.
There was no need to seek the source of the presence… he could feel it in his marrow, in the core of his soul. Something deep inside him whispered that the owner of this terrifying aura was anything but benevolent, no matter how beautifully wrapped.
Escape. That was all he could think of.
Cold sweat rolled down his neck as he activated his shard. The orange core inside him surged to life, amplifying his power twentyfold. The leap from one core to another was no small feat—the power difference wasn't linear. It doubled with every stage.
Direction didn't matter. Distance did.
With a burst of spirit energy, he vanished. Reappeared. Again. And again. On the ninth jump, he finally stopped to catch his breath.
He had covered nearly 900 meters.
Since reaching the orange core, his teleportation range had grown thirty-twofold, allowing him to cross over three kilometers in total. But the pressure it placed on his body each time was immense. His physique, still anchored in the first stage, was strong… but not nearly strong enough.
Sure, his fatal wounds had been healed. But his mind and soul were still in shambles.
"One more jump… just one, and I'll be safe…"
He activated the shard.
The world blurred.
But before his feet could touch solid ground… he realized something horrifying—
There was no ground beneath him.
Someone was holding him mid-air.
He looked up… and saw strands of black hair dancing before his eyes. A hand gripped his clothes firmly. And as his gaze rose further, he locked eyes with a pair of crimson irises and the smile of the beautiful, terrifying woman from before.
"You're quite fast, dear sir," she said with a bright smile.
Fast?
He had fled 900 meters, and she had caught up in the blink of an eye.
But the shock didn't end there.
In the next heartbeat, he was back in the same place where he had started. Not by his shard. Not by magic. Simply by her speed alone.
She now stood before him, her radiant face closer than it should be. Her crimson eyes sparkled—not just with amusement… but with something else he couldn't identify.
Then, she spoke softly.
"Why are you running from me, sir? Am I truly that frightening?"
Was she really asking that?
He had never seen anything more terrifying in his entire life—and he didn't dare to say it aloud. He still didn't know what she wanted, or why she had saved him. He couldn't fight, and he clearly couldn't flee…
Which left only one path: lying and pretending.
Fortunately, that was something Louskas excelled at.
"Thank you, my lady, for saving me," he said politely. "Of course, had I been in better condition, I would never have run from such beauty. But I'm in an unfamiliar world… I hope you understand my caution."
He was lying, of course.
Even in the most peaceful of worlds, he would've run with everything he had. Beauty meant nothing to him. Even if she looked like an angel, to him, she was still just flesh, blood, and potential malice.
"Hahaha… you're lying, my dear," she said, her voice filled with playful mischief.
"L-Lying? Me? How could I ever—"
His words faltered.
Then, darkness swallowed him whole.
He fainted.