noveltune Chapter 161 Grade 5 Mutant with a Grade 5 pet
Chapter 161 Grade 5 Mutant with a Grade 5 pet
Silas stood frozen, his breath coming out in shaky puffs as he stared at the shadowy figure standing on the mountain ridge. A strange fear gripped his chest, making his heart pound faster with every second. His fingers tightened around his scythe, the cold metal biting into his skin, but he couldn't let go.
"What the hell is that thing?" he thought, his eyes narrowing as he braced himself for whatever was coming.
Just then, he noticed another figure flying toward the one on the mountain. This thing in the sky was huge — as big as a helicopter — with wings that spread out wide like giant sails. Each flap of those wings sent a heavy whoosh through the air, and the wind it created kicked up snow all around Silas, making it hard to see.
When the creature finally landed on the mountain beside the shadowy figure, it made the ground tremble. The figure climbed onto the creature's back with ease, like this was something it had done many times before. Once seated, the creature flapped its powerful wings and lifted off the ground. Without warning, they swooped down toward Silas.
As they got closer, Silas could finally see them more clearly. The winged creature looked like a massive hawk, but it was twisted and menacing. Its eyes glowed red like burning coals, and its wings glimmered like they were edged with blades.
The rider was even scarier. It had a body shaped like a human, but its eyes glowed with a fierce light, and its mouth curled back to show razor-sharp fangs. Its skin was covered in dark, shiny scales that looked as tough as armor. In one hand, it held a huge battle axe, the blade reflecting the dim light like a cruel smile.
A glowing screen appeared above them, displaying their names and levels.
[Name: Ozivox]
[Grade: 5]
[Name: Wing Razor]
[Grade: 5]
Silas's eyes widened in horror. Both of them are Grade 5? His stomach twisted with dread. This wasn't just a dangerous enemy; this was a deadly pair. Fighting one Grade 5 mutant was already a nightmare, but fighting two at once was almost impossible.
His grip on his scythe tightened. A Grade 5 mutant with a Grade 5 pet? he thought, his heart pounding. He'd never faced anything like this before.
"This is bad," he whispered to himself, his breath shaky as he prepared for the worst.
The ground shook as Wing Razor landed in front of him, its claws digging into the snow-covered earth. Ozivox stayed on its back, his glowing eyes fixed on Silas. The air felt thick and heavy, charged with a dangerous energy that made Silas's skin crawl.
Ozivox's voice was deep and cold, like a growl from the depths of a cave. "When my god told me there was a trespasser, I expected something worth fighting. That's why I came ready for a battle. But you..." He paused, his lip curling in disgust. "You don't seem like much."
Silas clenched his jaw. It can talk? He remembered hearing stories from other hunters and guild members about mutants that could speak. Those mutants were always the most dangerous — strong, smart, and deadly. The power Ozivox gave off was like a crushing weight pressing on Silas's chest.
"Let's end this quickly," Ozivox said, raising his axe. "You're not worth my time."
With a simple wave of his hand, Ozivox signaled Wing Razor. The creature's massive wings snapped down with a loud crack, lifting them into the air. Snow and ice blew around them, making Silas's vision blur.
They came at him fast, like a black blur slicing through the sky. Silas's heart raced as the huge axe swung down toward him, the blade gleaming as it aimed for his head.
A familiar set of notifications flashed before his eyes:
[You have undergone a critical injury]
[Super fast healing will now kick in]
[-10 Soul Points]
Warmth spread through his chest as his wounds began to close, the pain dulling slightly. But before his body could fully heal, the sharp sound of flapping wings filled the air. Silas's eyes snapped open, and he saw Ozivox and Wing Razor looming over him.
SLASH!
The battle axe swung again, the blade glinting with a cruel edge. It struck Silas's chest, sending him flying. Pain erupted through his body as he tumbled across the snowy ground, each bounce and roll jolting his battered form. Blood splattered in a gruesome trail behind him.
Finally, he came to a stop, lying face down in the cold snow. His vision swam, darkness nibbling at the edges. His body refused to move.
[Host has undergone a critical injury]
[Super fast healing will now kick in]
[-10 Soul Points]
His fingers twitched. Slowly, he clenched his fist and punched the ground with a low growl. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, his body shaking with effort as his wounds knitted together.
"Such a pathetic human," Ozivox's voice boomed, full of contempt. "You are not worthy of this realm. That is why I must cleanse you, so my god can take your filthy world!"
Ozivox's eyes glimmered with a cruel light as he hefted his axe again, ready to finish the job.
Silas staggered to his feet, a faint smirk curling his lips despite the pain. "You call me weak, but look at you. You need help from your little bird to fight." His eyes gleamed with defiance. "Why don't you step down and face me like a real warrior? Or are you afraid?"
A low, dangerous growl rumbled from Ozivox. He stared at Silas for a long, tense moment, his jaw clenched. Then, with a huff, he stepped down from Wing Razor, the snow crunching under his heavy feet. He patted the creature's head, his fingers gliding over the smooth, deadly feathers before turning back to Silas.
"This is no mere pet," Ozivox said coldly. "It is a part of me. I am one of the few generals who have mastered the art of mutant taming. Once you reach my level, a single touch can bond a mutant to you forever. Wing Razor has been with me for years — our souls are connected."
He raised his axe, his eyes gleaming with dark confidence. "But since you wish for a fair fight, I'll grant it. At least now, you'll have no excuse when I crush you."
Ozivox advanced, each step deliberate, his grip on the axe tightening. The air seemed to grow colder, the wind whispering of the violence to come.
Silas adjusted his grip on his scythe, his eyes locked on his enemy.