Chapter 1222
The remaining Umbrabeasts, as if confronted by a terrifying natural enemy, turned and frantically fled. Yet within less than a second, they were all reduced to ash and vanished...
In an instant, the surrounding space lit up once more. The river of stars beneath his feet continued to emit a faint glow, endless fragments still drifting quietly, and starlight pierced the boundless void, transmitting from distances too vast to fathom...
The only new thing was the slow shower of ash settling around them. The larger fragments of land nearby caught these ashes, which gradually fell onto their surfaces.
Leon furrowed his brow, standing in place, a trace of doubt flickering in his eyes.
Umbrabeasts have far too distinctive a trait—their presence shrouds all light, leaving only endless darkness.
But such creatures existed only in the Age of Gods and Demons. By the early days of the Nesser Dynasty, they had already been driven to extinction.
During the Age of Gods and Demons, these beings lived only within the realm of the Dark Overlord; only in places of pure darkness could Umbrabeasts survive.
But after that era ended, Umbrabeasts lost the soil they depended on for survival. Whenever they appeared, all surrounding light would be eclipsed, and then they'd swarm in, draining the blood of any creature shrouded in darkness, leaving behind a heap of terrifying desiccated corpses.
Unfortunately, none of the Pureblood Elves who ruled the Nesser Dynasty could stand these creatures. From the moment the Umbrabeasts first attacked a Pureblood Elf, their extinction was inevitable.
The brilliance of the Sunfire Elf—so searing, so absolute, that these pitiful Umbrabeasts never stood a chance. Their one great secret, their Achilles' heel: light, in any form, is torment. Even the faintest spark—a firefly’s glow—would send them scattering in agony. How ironic, to be so monstrous, yet undone by something so gentle.
Driven to desperation, the Umbrabeasts hurled themselves toward the Destruction Black Dragon—the only one among the Five-Colored Dragons with the faintest kinship to their kind. But fate, as ever, is cruel. The Destruction Black Dragon found them just as repulsive; those who survived the Sunfire Elf's light were incinerated in a single, careless exhalation.
Thus, the Umbrabeasts of Northend World were wiped from existence. Of course, rumor persists that in Hell, their close kin still lurk—though when light burns those wretches to ash, all that remains is a stench of blood and sulfur, lingering like a bad memory.
A shadow of doubt flickered in Leon’s eyes. Weren’t these grotesque things supposed to have vanished with the dawn of the Nesser Dynasty? So why now, and why here—a horde so vast, it must have taken ten thousand Umbrabeasts to swallow the light itself. The darkness felt almost personal, a challenge to his very being.
Caution prickled at the edges of Leon’s mind. He summoned Theo and Anderson, pressing onward along the Stellar Path. The Stargate that had delivered him here was now lost, adrift somewhere in the void. Before and behind: only the solitary star river, stretching endlessly into the darkness. Isolation, yet again, his only companion.
After another hour trudging through the void, Leon stopped. Amid the colossal debris, a small black dot darted and leapt, reckless and unafraid, drawing ever closer.
A few seconds later, Leon’s gaze sharpened. That tiny black speck was no mere shadow.
It was a beast with three heads and the hulking body of a gorilla—six arms, no hair, only a lattice of pitch-black scales. Across its chest, a grotesque rune of white scales gleamed, like a warning etched in flesh.
The monster bounded over the shattered earth, and in seconds landed on the Stellar Path. Towering over two hundred meters, it radiated an ancient, suffocating pressure—a relic from a world that remembered only violence.