Chapter 89: The death of the Behemoth

The monkey’s expression flickered—satisfaction mixed with something resembling concern. Not for its fallen ally, but for implications beyond immediate combat.

“One dies, ten replace it,” the creature replied, though its tone lacked earlier conviction.

“Then I’ll kill those ten as well.”

Their deadly dance continued, neither capable of decisive strikes, both too injured for sustained offence. Around them, the wider battle raged with decreasing intensity as monster forces fragmented without coordinated leadership.

…

The behemoth’s situation deteriorated as time passed.

Ethan’s accumulated strikes had damaged it.

Armour that had seemed impenetrable now showed spiderweb fractures where repeated strikes had taken their toll.

Time to end this. The behemoth is longer as threatening, I can now attack without worrying about my life.

Ethan combined three talents simultaneously. The synergy created capabilities beyond their individual usage.

He moved like a living hurricane, air currents accelerating his approach while killing monsters that tried to block his path with a swing of his dagger.

When the behemoth’s claws sought his position, Ethan vanished, before appearing in the air, face-to-face with the behemoth.

He struck without worry.

His flame daggers found the most damaged joint, the head-thorax connection that had absorbed dozens of strikes.

This time, the armour wasn’t as tough; his flame daggers drove through cracks to reach vulnerable tissue beneath.

Deep enough. Finally.

The behemoth convulsed as Ethan severed a few arteries in its neck.

The behemoth’s head began losing coordinated control over its massive body. Eye stalks drooped uselessly.

“Now!” Ethan shouted to his companions. “Target the neck while it’s stunned!”

Ruan and Zhao struck with desperate precision, their weapons finding the wounds Ethan had created. Combined assault drove through damaged armor to reach vital structures beneath.

Blood gushed out without control from multiple wounds, the creature’s roars shifting from rage to distress.

Its massive limbs thrashed without coordination.

Almost finished. One final strike.

Ethan positioned himself beneath the monster’s jaw, daggers aimed at the soft tissue.

His wind talent gathered around his hand, compressing into a ball with cutting edges sharper than steel.

The enhanced strike penetrated the skin. Ethan did not stop, driving his arm deeper inside.

The behemoth shuddered once, then collapsed with earth-shaking impact. Its massive body crushed beasts under and shattered pavement, creating a crater where its body settled.

<You have killed High-Silver Ferocious Beast: Tunneler Behemoth>

Ethan took out the crystal and held it in his hand.

Silence fell across the battlefield, broken only by laboured breathing from exhausted combatants.

Ethan stood over the fallen monster. Blood stained his clothing—both his own and that of slain enemies—yet his posture remained unbowed.

Four Mid-Silvers and one High-Silver. All in one night.

Ruan and Zhao approached with careful steps, awe mingling with apprehension in their expressions. They’d witnessed something unprecedented—individual combat prowess that made them shudder.

“You did it,” Ruan said quietly, his voice carrying notes of disbelief.

Yes. But at what cost?

The devastation surrounding them told the story clearly enough. Entire city blocks reduced to rubble, thousands dead or displaced. Victory achieved through sacrifice that would echo for generations.

’The problem will be the generals and the City Lord. Will they feel threatened by my new presence? Especially the City Lord…’ Ethan thought grimly.

He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the city lord, the sole leader of the whole city, would welcome him with open arms once the lazy monkey was dead.

Power created enemies as often as allies, particularly when that power exceeded established hierarchies.

Ethan glanced at both generals and said casually, “Do you want to exchange?”

Their eyes brightened immediately. Neither had dared ask for the High-Silver core—Ethan had done most of the work, and more importantly, he was undoubtedly the strongest among them.

They exchanged meaningful glances before nodding eagerly.

“Yes, what do you want?” Ruan asked, hope evident in his voice.

“Silver cores. Lower-tiered ones.”

Both generals’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. Nobody exchanged cores with those of lower grade. It defied all conventional wisdom about cultivation advancement.

He must have his reasons.

“Yes, we can do that,” Zhao said quickly, before Ethan could reconsider.

“Alright, highest bidder wins.” Ethan’s tone remained neutral, business-like.

The bidding began immediately. Ruan offered one Low-Silver cores, then Zhao countered with two. Ruan escalated to four Low-Silver cores, one specifically intelligence-based.

“Sold.” Ethan handed the behemoth’s core to Ruan, accepting the four cores in return.

Perfect. Four times the attributes I would have gotten from one High-Silver core.

His Devour talent didn’t differentiate between grades—it absorbed essence regardless of ranking. Multiple cores meant multiple attribute gains, far exceeding what single advancement would provide.

“I need to check on something,” he said, pocketing the cores.

Both generals nodded, still processing their good fortune as Ethan departed.

He moved swiftly through the ruined district, Enhanced Speed carrying him toward Tiana’s apartment. Throughout the battle, he’d deliberately kept the fighting away from that sector, using strategic positioning to protect his people.

Please still be there.

The building stood intact, mercifully untouched by the chaos consuming surrounding areas.

The window opened at his gentle knock. Tiana’s face appeared, pale but relieved.

“You’re alive,” she breathed.

Behind her, Lin and Hong Wei crowded forward, faces lighting with hope at his appearance. Uncle Lin nodded from deeper in the room.

“The worst is over,” Ethan assured them. “Stay here until dawn. I’ll return when it’s truly safe.”

“What about you?” Lin asked, concern evident in her voice.

“One more threat to eliminate.”

He didn’t elaborate, dropping back to street level before they could question further.

Time for the cores.

In an alley, Ethan consumed his prizes.

<+10 Intelligence>

<+9 Strength>

<+9 Strength>

<+8 Vitality>

Power flowed through him in waves, attributes crossing critical thresholds. His Intelligence reached 18, officially Mid-Silver territory.

Strength increased to 173, Agility remained at 158, whilst Vitality reached 164.

Mid-Silver. Finally.

He returned to observe the ongoing battle between Ezekiel and the monkey.

Both combatants bled from dozens of wounds, their movements lacking earlier fluidity. Exhaustion had reduced their deadly dance to desperate exchanges.

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