The Last Primal

Under the scorching heat of the daylight sun, walking under the bright orange-tinted sky, Captain Don's group of Silver Howl mercenaries joined together with the young adventurers, Aiden's family and friends were marching at a steady pace towards the northern direction.

For almost a week now, they have been traveling these abandoned lands, slowly, gradually mapping out everywhere they went. After a full 16 hours of tireless march, they have finally made their way out of the desert they have originally landed in. The golden grains of seemingly endless dunes of sand were gradually replaced by a surprisingly vibrant green grassland. 

Wild and unattended, full with weeds of all kinds, it was still a refreshing, reinvigorating sight to see after days of nothing but heat and death. Even the air felt much better, unlike the dryness of the desert, it felt strangely normal, mysteriously… full of vitality…

The strangely high quality made the team question the truth about the realm being inhabitable to civilized life and being destroyed beyond repair. There's breathable fresh air, and even flora. It is true that the only habitants so far they have met were horrid abominations, unnatural creations of some dark sorcery, and the taboo arcane arts… in the end, they were still living. 

They still survived here, making the prior claim to be false. 

As the team made their way through the grasslands, which, by the way, they have named 'Northern Grasslands' for the lack of a better term, they did meet more of those bug-slash-beast monsters along the way. Yet however, once they seemingly crossed deep enough their attacks suddenly ceased on the third day.

This, albeit felt a refreshing change, as it has finally eased up on the constant pressure and unease the team was being put under, it did raise several new questions.

Why didn't they continue their skirmishes? Why didn't they attack? Why the sudden stop? 

After some brainstorming, they have come up with three possible conclusions, each having its own merits and potential consequences.

For one, -and based on their experience in this realm so far, the far less likely of them all, it could have meant that simply, they have ventured too far from their nest or village underground. They have finally got away from their hunting ground.

Though it was the least likely, and the most boring answer of them all, the team obviously wished for this the most. It would have meant that the potential consequences would be minimal, they could finally shift their attention to the main task, the reason for their arrival to this realm, and finally, start earning those gravely required points for potential placement in the end.

The second conclusion was somewhat similar to the one before, only that the monsters have only ceased their attacks because they have ventured out of their territory and most likely entered into other tribes or races.

If this were to be the case, then there was a frightening thought, that whatever creatures dominated these grasslands, were at least just as powerful, if not stronger than those vicious abominations. Fearsome enough to cause even those seemingly vicious, bloodthirsty spawns of hell to turn back and give up on the prospective, juicy bareskin prey.

And lastly, they could have entered some forbidden land. Some realm that either by its nature or for some reason, event of the past made this land be feared by even those creatures. 

This was, by no doubt the worst possibility of all, as it carried that unknown threat, a looming sickle of the death floating above the air. They had no idea, no clue, no hope currently to investigate the true cause, as even after a week, the most they had seen of this humongous, endless greenery were piles of rubles, and debris of some old buildings sparsely spread out in the land. 

The remaining moss-covered bricks of what was once a wall, patches of dead, lifeless land met them every now and then along their journey.

When the team together made up their minds to instead of going directly towards their missing Young Master, Aiden's direction and instead tackle the north, they didn't know what those strange silhouettes could mean. 

After a week, they were still not clear but had a rough idea as they ventured deeper and deeper to this realm of moderate life.

These worn-down, dilapidated, or even long-since crumbled down wreckage were some series of buildings, perhaps a settlement in an era before the cataclysmic event. Creatures, -judging by the size of the remains, most likely humans or human-sized and shaped beings- lived their lives. 

Though it was way too early to say, based on the structured layout of what remained, the street-like pavings that survived the decades, the walls, the scorched dead patches… it gave the feeling of a settlement. 

A village, an outpost, a military camp? Maybe, but the size and large ground the buildings covered with their sporadic appearances, made them question if it was truly just a small-sized community like that.

No, it had the feel of something bigger. A city? Or a full-fledged town? Maybe. They couldn't be sure, they were just guessing based on what they had found so far.

It was now the fourth day since the last attack, the last ambush from those disgusting vile beasts. The team was slowly starting to ease up. The constant pressure vanishing, the gloomy mood was gradually being lifted.

Keeping up the pace, the adults and the young warriors were acting much more cheerful than before. Waves of laughter were going all around as they paced northward in a semi-organized form of four-man columns. 

At the front, walking side by side, Captain Don, Crone were leading the men and women together with the purple-haired mind-bender girl, Sara, and Crysta, the troublemaker. After their little adventure, and the several excursions together, the two ladies have indeed begun to inevitably grow closer together.

Close to the point of beginning acting as friends. Even though Sara still tried to retain some of her cool and distance, the iceberg slowly, gradually started to melt under the constant barrage of the cheery girlie.

"Say, say… Sara… Do you also think this place was a city in the past? Are creatures similar to those things living their boring lives here? Or perhaps… do you have some other idea?" Giggling, Crysta leaned closer to the emotionless-looking purple beauty. 

"Crysta, stop pestering Miss Sara!" Captain Don hollered at the girl, reaching out with his large hands in the next moment and pulling her back slightly.

"Aaaah… B-boss! I am just curious! I just… Aauu! Stop pulling my hair you big orc!" She cried as she was pried away. 

"Y-you cheeky, little…! Who are you calling an orc!" 

Their scuffle went beside Sara's ears. She was focused, looking towards the horizon with a stern gaze, where a growing dark silhouette slowly emerged one after another. What seemed like nothing but more of these remains at a first glance, were turning out to be something much, much more…

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>>>Check out my latest : The Strongest Demon Lord in the Modern World<<

It's an urban modern-day styled story, with a reverse transmigrated ('Banished') immortal entity from the fantastical world of Nova!

Planned Tags and Genre:  # CULTIVATION  # R18  # BETRAYAL  # TRANSMIGRATION  # URBAN  # ACTION  # ANTIHERO  # OVERPOWERED (romance maybe at some later point)

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