Chapter 52 Storm Serpent (1)

Words : 1483 Updated : Sep 10th, 2025

The expedition pressed deeper inland after lunch, the landscape shifting from rolling dunes to jagged azure-laced spires jutting from the sand like fractured glass. The further they went, the more unnatural the terrain became—twisting rock formations crackling faintly with static, strange humming vibrations pulsing beneath their feet. Then, the ground trembled. A brief but unmistakable quake rippled through the sand, sending loose pebbles skittering down slopes. A few adventurers stumbled, gripping their weapons instinctively. Rachel snapped her staff up, scanning the horizon. No attack came. No monsters burst from the shadows. Just an unsettling silence stretching too long. "Just tectonic movement?" Vera, a young caster, asked, trying to sound casual. Rachel didn't answer immediately. She flicked her gaze to Arthur, watching as he examined a scanning device strapped to his wrist. The display flickered, numbers shifting rapidly, unreadable from her angle. He frowned, tapping the screen before turning to Navir, the veteran adventurer who had been reluctantly roped into co-leading. They spoke in hushed tones. Rachel, curious, wandered closer. "...pressure changes are focused here," Arthur murmured. "It's gathering." "'It' being?" Navir prompted. Arthur didn't answer outright. "We should establish an observation point here," he deflected, glancing toward an outcropping that overlooked a shallow depression in the center of the spire cluster. "We'll get better readings and a higher vantage if anything moves." Navir nodded and barked orders to the group. Rachel tilted her head, watching Arthur carefully. There was something about the way he phrased things, making decisions sound like collaborative efforts rather than personal strategies. It was subtle, but she'd started noticing it more. The adventurers climbed the ridge and peered down. A circular basin stretched below, surrounded by jagged crystals that arced with faint trails of blue lightning. Rachel's grip on her staff tightened. That wasn't just static discharge. That was Storm Serpent territory. The group shifted uneasily. Some reached for their weapons, anticipating an attack. But the basin was empty. No coiled serpent, no immediate threat—just the lingering electricity snapping in the air like an unfinished sentence. Rachel swallowed. The Guildmaster had warned that the Storm Serpent could evolve if it absorbed enough mana. What if they had stumbled into its nesting ground right before the transformation? Arthur remained unreadable, his eyes flicking across the perimeter. "We set up observation wards here," he said. "If it returns, we'll know." No one disagreed. Soon, they were securing small, high-tech ward pylons into the sand, each designed to map mana flows and detect large creatures. Rachel anchored each rune with her Light Gift, ensuring the wards stabilized. Arthur directed placements subtly, offering suggestions like, "Angle that one north" or "Place one near that spire." Rachel assumed he was optimizing coverage. She didn't realize he was funneling something. As dusk fell, the wind picked up, bringing a sharp ozone tang. Rachel paced near the perimeter, scanning for movement. Beside her, Vera shivered. "It's too quiet," Vera muttered. "Where are the griffins? Or the Tideborn Stalker? Feels like the whole island's just... holding its breath." Rachel had been thinking the same thing. Shortly before midnight, the wards hummed in unison. Rachel jerked to attention, adrenaline snapping through her veins. She and Vera rushed to check the holographic displays on the pylons. The runes pulsed aggressively, reacting to a massive mana presence nearby. A hush fell over the camp. And then—a tremor. Not a violent shake, but a slow, deliberate shift, like something beneath the island was stretching. Rachel turned toward Arthur, but he was already moving. He slipped away from the wards, his face partially obscured by the glow of a crystal spire. She opened her mouth to call out, but hesitated. Maybe he was checking something. Maybe he was investigating. She turned back to the group, unaware that he wasn't investigating so much as adjusting. The quake deepened. Adventurers scrambled, some shouting, but nothing attacked. No beast revealed itself. The ground simply continued shifting, like something vast was coiling below the surface. Rachel's pulse hammered in her ears. "We need to move," she ordered. Navir jogged toward her, panting. "Lady Rachel, it's bad. Tunnels collapsed near the southern perimeter. We're cut off from the others." Her stomach dropped. "Any sign of the serpent?" Navir hesitated. "One of my men swears he saw a tail vanishing into a crevice." Rachel swore under her breath. "Then it's moving. Gathering power." She turned toward the swirling dust and lightning in the distance. Arthur was nowhere to be seen. She bit back frustration. He had a habit of disappearing at key moments, and this time, she didn't have time to find him before disaster hit. She ordered a rescue detail, sending adventurers to retrieve the trapped squads. But every time they approached the central ring, fresh quakes forced them back. At one point, she swore she glimpsed something massive, coiled in the haze. A shimmering azure form. The air crackled around it, growing denser, heavier, charged. Rachel's breath came short. They weren't just tracking the serpent anymore. They were in the middle of its ascension. __________________________________________________________________________________ The plan had to be perfect. No room for error, no loose ends. I had spent the entire day setting this up, piece by piece, without anyone realizing what I was actually doing. Feeding a five-star beast wasn't as simple as throwing it food—it had to be the right kind of food. The kind that carried mana, the kind that would push it over the edge and trigger its final evolution. And the best fuel for that? Other five-star beasts. The Storm Serpent was a territorial predator, but it wasn't the strongest creature on the island. Not yet. There were still other apex predators lurking—each of them competing for dominance, each of them siphoning away mana that should have been the serpent's alone. I had to remove them from the equation. And so I did. Under the guise of scouting runs, I disappeared at key intervals, slipping away from the main group just long enough to track and hunt the strongest creatures on the island. Thunderclaw Griffins, Tideborn Stalkers, even a rogue Azure Fang that had no business being here. I made sure to come back bruised and battered, making it look like I had barely survived a scrap with a four-star beast each time. I let the others patch me up, let Rachel sigh in exasperation, let Navir shake his head like I was an overeager fool who didn't know his limits. In truth, I had been delivering fresh kills straight to the serpent's feeding grounds. It had been cautious at first. Even as I pushed prey toward its lair, it took its time, coiling in the shadows, studying the battlefield like an ancient tactician. But hunger, mixed with raw, surging mana, was a powerful motivator. And as I continued my quiet, methodical culling of the competition, it began to understand. This food was for it. This was its land, its territory. It ate. It consumed, tearing through beast after beast, drinking deep of their mana-rich cores, growing stronger with each kill. And as the day wore on, I saw the shift happening. The scales darkened, taking on an iridescent sheen. The electricity in the air grew denser, the humidity shifting as ambient mana folded in on itself, drawn toward the serpent like an unseen tide. It was close now. Too close. By nightfall, the others were completely unaware of what was happening beneath their feet. Rachel had her hands full keeping the squads organized, while the adventurers remained focused on shoring up defenses against the next wave of threats that would never come. Because I had already silenced them. Everything was in place. And then, in the dead of night, it happened. The first pulse of true evolution. A deep, resonant thrum rippled through the ground, shaking the very bones of the island. The air crackled, alive with an electric storm that hadn't yet been born. The serpent was changing. From my vantage point, hidden among the jagged spires overlooking the basin, I watched the culmination of my work unfold. I saw the first arc of unnatural lightning, not from the sky, but from within the beast itself, shooting upward, shattering a crystal spire into molten slag. I heard the deep, guttural sound of a creature shedding its past weakness, stepping into the next stage of its existence. A roar. Primal. Raw. Absolute. The basin collapsed inward, swallowed by a maelstrom of lightning and sand as the Storm Serpent ascended. Sёarᴄh the NôvelFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. It was no longer a five-star beast. It had become something far, far worse. And nobody had any idea that I had just made it happen.

Chapter 52 Storm Serpent (1)

Comments (0)