Formless Ascension: My Affinity Is Limitless

Both Uhtred and the Neanderthal warrior had burned through so much cosmic essence in that brief exchange that their bodies felt completely hollow, stripped down to the marrow.

Huffing rapidly, his chest heaving as a deep, agonizing ache throbbed inside his strained core, Uhtred forced his head up.

Through the rising steam, he watched the Neanderthal warrior visibly stagger, his massive frame swaying as he took a shaky step forward.

The ancient warrior’s eyes were wide, bloodshot, and filled with a lingering madness, his bone club dragging heavily across the charred ground as he closed the distance to finish his downed opponent.

But all of a sudden, the Neanderthal stopped.

His footsteps halted abruptly, his focus shifting away from Uhtred to lock onto something directly behind his position.

Uhtred tilted his head very slightly, his vision swimming as he desperately fought to maintain his consciousness. He refused to look weak or pass out in front of an enemy who was actively looking for an opening to end his life.

Moving his neck with agonizing slowness, he glanced over his shoulder.

John stood there, a few steps behind him, accompanied by a solid line of the sector’s pioneers.

Every single one of them had stepped fully out of the safe zone, their faces set in grim, unyielding determination. They were staring down the Level 13 Neanderthal with dangerous, predatory eyes.

They didn’t care about the difference in levels anymore. They didn’t care that this ancient entity possessed superior baseline stats or ancestral magic. They had abandoned the safety of the sanctuary to back Uhtred up, drawing a hard line as if to say: Step any closer, and we’re ready to end you here regardless of the cost!

The Neanderthal warrior stood frozen, his gaze locked in a silent, grim standoff with the modern pioneers.

He looked back down towards Uhtred, who was still somehow holding himself completely upright on his knees, despite the fact that his arms and legs were trembling violently from exhaustion.

A heavy, bitter reluctance filled the ancient warrior’s eyes. He knew he had failed.

The extraction probe was found out. One of his scouts was captured. And the anomaly of a human before him had somehow still survived his absolute strongest spell.

Without another look, the Neanderthal turned heavily on his feet. He dragged his heavy club behind him, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he began to retreat toward the thick, dark tree line of Zone 1.

The pioneers watched his retreating back, a collective hesitation rippling through them. A few of the fighters tightened their grips on their bone weapons, their eyes asking if they should go after the weakened giant and eliminate him before he could escape.

"Don’t move," John ordered, his voice cutting through the tension with his calm military authority.

Based on his background as a soldier, John knew better than anyone that a wounded beast was at its most lethal when backed into a corner.

When an entity had nothing left to lose but its life, an uncalculated pursuit would only result in needless casualties.

More importantly, John’s attention wasn’t even on the giant’s figure. It was entirely on Uhtred.

The exact moment the Neanderthal’s massive silhouette vanished into the thick shadows of the tree line, Uhtred’s remaining resolve sputtered. His posture gave out, and his body began to slump forward toward the ash-covered dirt.

Before he could hit the ground, though, John lunged forward, catching him firmly by the shoulder and hoisting his weight up to keep him steady.

Uhtred forced his heavy eyelids to stay open one last time, looking up into the soldier’s face. John met his gaze, giving him a tight, firm nod that carried an unspoken reassurance:

Don’t worry, man... you’re in safe hands.

A faint, tired smile touched Uhtred’s lips. The lingering tension left his muscles, and his mind finally let go, plunging him into the quiet darkness of unconsciousness just as a massive cascade of glowing blue system notifications began to rapidly pop into his vision.

.

.

.

The next time Uhtred opened his eyes, he saw a massive head filling up his view, and his body stiffened in an instant before he could process exactly what he was seeing.

The lightly freckled, brown-skinned face of a girl that looked as if she had been caught red-handed in the act rapidly rushed away from his face, suppressing a squeal like she was about to crawl into the nearest hole she could find.

Uhtred sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He seemed to be on some sort of makeshift bed made of dry grass and some other materials that the sector members had probably put together.

Uhtred frowned as he took in the surroundings further. There were no pavilions close to him. The nearest he could see was just a silhouette against the horizon.

Wherever they were was far from the main camps, which made Uhtred quickly deduce that this was probably some outpost made by the task force team.

And as the events before he passed out began to flood back into his mind in clarity, he immediately realized why he was here and very likely also why the outpost had been situated this far out.

Uhtred looked towards the ridge he could spot some tens of meters away. His higher-level perception could pick out the sounds of voices, along with a separate chilling sound.

One that, even though Uhtred knew exactly what was happening, still made him feel a bit of discomfort at how much agony the voice was filled with.

The Homo erectus scout...

Uhtred clenched his jaw slightly and turned his attention to the brown-skinned girl not far from him, who was trying as much as possible to play it off as if she had not been caught just now snooping around his face.

He could see how deeply embarrassed she was, so he didn’t pull her leg any further. Instead, he called her out by her name:

"Diya, right? How long was I out?"