Chapter 332 Medicines
Accompanied by a group of Empyrean Snappers was a large ship, on the deck of which stood Inala, his expression cheerful, inhaling the fresh air while gawking at the sprawling Dralh Sea.
"How the heck are you cheerful in this situation?" Wittral grumbled from nearby, feeling irritated upon seeing Inala happy, "We can't cultivate anymore."
"What's the problem with that?" Inala raised an eyebrow and shadowboxed for a couple of seconds, "I'm free from influence. At present, I'm at my natural self."
That was indeed the truth. Whether it was his identity as a Mammoth Clan, the influence of a Zinger through his Primary Nature, and the influence of an Empyrean Tusk through his Secondary and Tertiary Natures, Inala didn't feel any at the moment.
Here, inhaling fresh air, he was truly free. At this moment, he could care shit about the Mammoth Clan's fate, for he was no longer subjected to the influence every Mammoth Clansman experienced.
The only two Mammoth Clansmen he cared about were in his stomach biome. Hence, whether or not the Mammoth Clan survived mattered naught to him. This clarity of mind came as a surprise when his Spirit Container was extracted, but soon enough, he embraced it, for that was truly his natural state.
The only influence on him was his own, to be like Inala, the individual. 'Honestly, I don't mind living like this.'
He then stared at Wittral, 'The Cooter Clan will protect him. As long as I stay by his side, I'll live a comfortable life.'
He had yet to finish building his Zinger Body. So, he wouldn't live past a century. That didn't matter to him at present, since that already exceeded his original lifespan when on Earth.
But the moment he recovers his Spirit Container, he'll become the Inala from before, scheming for the betterment of the Mammoth Clan since his daughter would become the Empyrean Tusk that would lead them in the future.
His thoughts would grow complex, since he couldn't stop at thinking about him alone. Rather, many things were riding on him, causing him to constantly reinvent himself and make schemes, both short-term and long-term.
"I hate being like this," Wittral grumbled in anger and stared at his weak, mortal self, "I have never been this...useless since birth."
"You should learn to live like that until we find my teacher." Inala shrugged like it wasn't his problem and stared into the sea, exclaiming upon seeing a large marine creature jump out of the water, "What is that? How is it that huge?"
"That's a Silver Grade Pranic Beast, called..." Wittral stopped speaking, feeling his face heat up in response as he stared into the sea, "The Death Hour is starting!"
"This is...absurd!" He growled, unable to endure the heat in a matter of seconds to jump back deeper onto the deck, "Shit!"
When he had his power as an Empyrean Snapper, the Death Hour was merely an environment that raised his combat capabilities. During that hour, he was the ruler of the region, having no equal. The Dralh Sea became the heaven he ruled over, the environment beneficial for his actions.
But now, that very same environment spelled his death sentence, should he even dare peek at it, not to mention come into contact with it. The sheer contrast overwhelmed him, for he went from an invincible existence to the weakest of mortals.
The fact that the Free Humans he treated as servants, possessing Prana in the single digits were now many times stronger than him. That realisation overwhelmed his emotional state, causing him to leap into the Dralh Sea, indignant at his plight, "No! I refuse to believe I'm powerless! I'll recover my power once I touch the sea..."
"Calm down, Wittral." Inala hurriedly jumped after Wittral and grunted in pain, holding the rim of the deck to dangle forward. His left hand held the rim while his right gripped Wittral tightly, unable to bear his weight, "Don't be foolish! Gosh...you're heavy!"
"Let go, Inala." Wittral said, his expression absolutely serious, "The world is my ally. It always was and it always will be."
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login