Bermuda

Hugo dispelled the greatsword he had driven into the monster's eyeball—there were no more signs of monsters in the area. As he fastened the button on his newly worn glove, one of the members who had come with him flew down urgently from the top of the cliff and shouted,

"Commander, I think you should come right away!"

His urgent tone was clearly unusual, and both Hugo and the member beside him followed immediately.

He led them to the entrance of a cave hidden at the base of the cliff. It was tucked away in such an inconspicuous spot that, judging from the lack of air movement, it seemed to have only one sealed entry, with no path leading out the back.

As they lit the path and moved deeper inside, the stench grew stronger and insects swarmed. Hugo, recalling the sticky pool of blood he had seen at the cave's entrance, narrowed his brows. This wasn’t the same as the black blood they'd just encountered.

When they reached the innermost part of the cave, the member leading them stopped. Hugo increased the brightness of the light orb and illuminated the interior.

Before their eyes lay the source of the blood that had been soaking the ground all along. One member gagged at the sight and covered his nose and mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing.

The cave was filled with grotesque chunks of flesh.

They were rotting and decomposing, skin peeled to reveal red muscle underneath—likely corpses of beasts or monsters, though human limbs could be spotted among them.

In the belly of one mass, intestines protruded and maggots swarmed, hatching eggs and burrowing deep. A bright red fascia was still attached to a crushed spinal column atop one pile of pulped flesh.

At the feet of the mound lay a horse’s head, its single eyeball—still attached to its optic nerve—oozing. Judging from the faint twitching of inner muscle tissue, it hadn’t been dead long.

Yet none of the corpses were recognizable in their original form.

“This can’t be a burial site... Did the monster gather food here?”

“Seems likely.”

It looked more like a food storage pit, where prey was stockpiled.

Hugo conjured a long ice spear in his hand and approached the mound. As he walked, the blood pooled on the floor froze underfoot, giving him solid footing. The other two members flinched at the approach but soon followed along the path Hugo created.

He poked at the heap with the spear in several places. An unpleasant squelch transmitted through the weapon into his hand. After a few more prods, the pile seemed on the verge of collapsing into liquid, so Hugo dispelled the ice spear and said,

“Some of them died relatively recently, others have rotted so much they crumble on contact.”

“The oldest ones seem to be from about two or three weeks ago.”

The member who had led them inside added this while examining the bodies.

The one still covering his face with his sleeve asked,

“Do monsters on the peninsula usually hoard food like this?”

In colder or temperate regions, monsters often store food to survive winter. But here on the peninsula, where they could hunt year-round, hoarding wasn’t necessary. That left only one reason why monsters would gather food.

The member examining the corpses turned and answered,

“They do—during gestation or spawning seasons.”

As he replied, he glared at his junior still covering his nose. The younger member hastily dropped his hand and gave a sheepish smile, then opened his mouth as if something had just come to mind.

“But when I searched the nest, there weren’t any signs of eggs or hatchlings.”

That was true—Hugo hadn’t seen any small offspring earlier either, though with mutants, it might have been hard to distinguish them even if they were there.

While they continued speculating about the nature of the corpse pile, the radio in the younger member’s hand crackled with static. A voice broke through intermittently. All three turned their attention to the radio, and the member said,

“Sounds like the expedition team is nearby.”

Hugo gave the rotting heap one final look, then turned and said,

“Let’s leave this place to them and return to the procession.”

“Yes, Commander.”

As unsettling as the scene was, Hugo judged it more urgent to return—he had been away from the procession too long.

They retraced their steps and exited the cave. As the fresh air hit, the noxious stench finally lifted. The junior member, who had been covering his nose, took a deep breath like a man saved from drowning.

Before long, distant voices calling their names could be heard—probably from the approaching expedition team. Hugo and his group headed down to the valley below to make contact.

Just then, Hugo’s own radio crackled. The voice breaking through was Flynn’s.

****

Leonardo had surfaced only briefly before diving back into the lake. The 8th Platoon Leader was still fighting underwater with such lung capacity that Leonardo couldn’t recall seeing her surface once.

As he descended again, he watched her trigger another airburst around the monster’s body.

The explosion severed several of its frontal limbs and slightly slowed its movement. It kept trying to protect its torso, suggesting that was the true weak point.

Seizing the moment, Leonardo charged in and launched a fireball directly at the monster’s millet-sized eyes. The creature twisted in pain, all its limbs shooting inward to trap him—but the 8th Platoon members encircled /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ him and immediately sliced through them.

Just then, a chill ran down Leonardo’s spine. He turned sharply and saw the monster—its severed limbs unable to steer—hurtling straight toward the wall of the lake.

There was no time to shout. He hastily threw up a barrier, but the monster slammed into the wall at full speed. The impact shattered rock, and one of the members was flung back, bouncing off the stone. He appeared unconscious.

The 8th Platoon Leader leapt from the monster’s body and launched herself toward the falling member.

At that moment, two freshly regrown limbs twisted together, forming a sharp, venomous stinger aimed directly at her midair figure.

Leonardo reacted instinctively—his hand stretched out without thought. A streak of fire burst from his palm, faster than his conscious mind could process. But as soon as it left his hand, a sinking feeling struck him.

He immediately cast a barrier in front of both the Platoon Leader and the unconscious member. The fire met water, heating it rapidly, and caused an explosion far larger than expected.

Not only the stinger but nearly a quarter of the monster’s body was obliterated. Debris and floating remains surged upward, clouding the water.

The unconscious member was buffeted by the current, and even the Platoon Leader lost her balance. But she quickly righted herself and lifted the downed member with one arm.

Leonardo flinched for a moment and looked down at his hand. Something was wrong.

That... wasn’t the scale I aimed for.

He hovered in the roiling current stirred by his mana, then raised his gaze. His golden eyes darted as if sensing something.

They narrowed, locking onto a point—and then bubbles surged around his arm, the water boiling violently as his skin heated to scorching levels.

He thrust his arm into the monster’s body, which was still stunned from its collision with the wall. It didn’t matter if acid lay inside—he forced his hand in as if intending to melt everything.

The creature flailed wildly. Leonardo gripped it tightly and pulled massive mana from within, crushing slimy intestines as he drove his arm deeper.

Sensing his overwhelming power, the Platoon Leader tucked the unconscious member under one arm and signaled the others driving off the Sawtooth Fish to ascend. They, too, seemed to feel the shift in mana—and quickly obeyed.

From Leonardo’s hand, unstable and violently surging mana erupted. When he finally detonated it, the condensed energy spread in all directions, triggering a massive explosion and forming a vortex larger than any before.

Caught in the chaos, Leonardo was hurled about in the spiral current.

His consciousness wavered, but he shook his head and refocused.

The monster’s flesh, torn into shreds too fine to regenerate, floated around him. Attracted by the scent, the Sawtooth Fish rushed in like mad to devour the remains.

Leonardo tried to scatter them with another surge of water—but suddenly, a powerful force yanked his collar and dragged him away. He expelled a breath involuntarily from the pressure and turned his head.

The 8th Platoon Leader was the one dragging him, clearing a path through the Sawtooth Fish with attacks to buy time.

Leonardo, impressed despite himself, noted again her freakish strength—enough to haul him so effortlessly even underwater.

But it didn’t last. The light orbs of the other members now shimmered above her head. Judging from their position, they’d already reached the surface.

Seeing this, Leonardo realized there was no reason to stay submerged any longer. He grabbed the Platoon Leader’s forearm and teleported them both as close to the surface as possible—then blasted out of the water.

The Platoon Leader emerged with him, startled by the sudden pressure difference that briefly muffled her ears. But she quickly adjusted and shouted to her airborne platoon members on standby:

“Now!”