blueteamnovel Chapter 16 Evacuation from the Camp
Chapter 16 Evacuation from the Camp
Theodore had no time to dodge and in the ensuing chaos, he had to raise his right arm to block.
The blade sliced into the flesh, cleaving through the bone...
His entire forearm, along with half of the sleeve, flew out, tumbled several times in the air, and crashed into the mud, his fingers still twitching.
Blood gushed from the severed arm, and Theodore staggered backward, looking down at his severed arm.
The shock of being ambushed, the excruciating pain, and the fear of death gradually faded from that ashen face, leaving only utter madness!
He let out a roar that sounded inhuman, and with his remaining hand, he hurled the dagger at Simon.
The dagger spun towards him, and Simon immediately turned his head. The blade grazed his earlobe, severing several strands of hair.
Theodore lay on the ground, rolled over, and groped for his companion's body with his only remaining left hand. He suddenly let out a strange laugh and pulled a wooden handle from the corpse's pants.
No, to be precise, it was a wooden-handled grenade!
He bit the pin with his teeth, pulled hard, the fuse hissed, and white smoke billowed from the tail of the grenade. He threw the grenade forcefully into the center of the crowd!
boom--!
No one except Simon had time to dodge; even Theodore's men were targeted.
In an instant, dirt, gravel, and shrapnel exploded together. Several enemies at the center of the explosion were all killed by the shrapnel. The aftershocks of the explosion instantly knocked Badar over, and his shotgun fell to the ground. Simon's ears were ringing, and his vision was blurry. He shook his head and refocused his vision.
His senses barely returned, but Theodore was gone, leaving only a pool of blood on the ground, and he had picked up the severed arm.
He suddenly smelled a rotten stench coming from the strange wooden barrel, the one that had been carrying it was dead, and the thick, dark red liquid inside had spilled all over the ground.
Badar struggled to his feet; the wound on his shoulder had reopened, and blood was flowing down his arm.
Klein clutched his wounded abdomen, his blond hair disheveled, his face covered in mud.
Mr. Bell emerged from behind the tree, still holding his bow, but his quiver was empty. Anthony followed behind him, his arm in a sling, seemingly badly broken.
"Chase him!" Klein gritted his teeth. "He can't get far."
But Mr. Bell blocked their way.
"Wait a moment!"
He squatted down, dipped his finger into the dark red, viscous liquid on the ground, and smelled it. His brows furrowed even more.
"What is this?" Simon pressed.
The fact that Theodore specifically assigned someone to carry it speaks volumes about its importance; judging from Bell's expression, this liquid is definitely not simple.
"A mixture of human blood, animal blood, and the sap of abyssal plants," he said, enunciating each word clearly. "For abyssal creatures, this is the taste of a delicacy. It will attract many things: fungal corpses, predators, and even more terrifying beings. We must evacuate immediately."
"Evacuate?" Klein stared, his bloodshot eyes wide with anger and astonishment. "Let that bastard Theodore get away?"
"Yes, evacuate immediately." Bell calmly repeated his point of view. "Theodore's move is vicious. This pool of liquid will attract all the monstrous creatures in the forest. If we evacuate now, we can still gather some things. If we delay any longer, we will lose all our supplies."
Simon instantly understood Theodore's intention...
This is a safety net.
Once Theodore decides he cannot capture the camp, he will send men to pour the liquid down, allowing the abyssal creatures, drawn by the smell, to take over the camp.
That's the behavior of a madman; if he can't have it, he'll destroy it all.
Simon observed Klein's expression; his lips were trembling, his fists were clenched, and his nails were digging into his palms.
No one can accept that the camp they painstakingly built was destroyed in a catastrophe.
Badal and Anthony both looked at Klein...
"We're leaving," he said, each word squeezed out through gritted teeth.
"Anthony... help me bandage this up," Badal pleaded with Anthony.
It appears that Anthony was primarily responsible for medical and other logistical work at their camp.
"Sorry, wait a moment, I have more important things to do."
Anthony hurried into the tent and stuffed various supplies into his backpack. The backpack was already full, but there was still not enough room, so he held it in his hands. Three boxes were stacked together, and as he moved with difficulty, the various items clattered and rattled inside the boxes, making it look quite difficult.
"Come here, Anthony!"
Klein stepped forward to help, placing the three boxes along with the heavy backpacks at the edge of the camp.
"These are all hard-earned money, we can't waste them."
Without looking up, Anthony ran towards the tent a second time.
Simon suddenly looked up; his ears caught a sound, like the sound of wind…
Extremely subtle, almost non-existent airflow disturbances, like something silently gliding overhead.
It was so light that he wouldn't have noticed it at all unless he was listening intently.
He looked up with a cold expression. The treetops above him swayed slowly, mist swirled among the treetops, and glowing spores leaked out from the gaps.
But he heard that sound again, getting closer and closer, more and more intense, like the hissing sound of cloth being torn apart.
A sense of unease grew stronger in his heart.
"Anthony," Simon called out again.
"Coming right away!"
Anthony squatted inside the tent, stuffing his second backpack full, and while busy, he didn't forget to offer Klein a few words of optimistic comfort:
"It's alright, boss. We've been staying at this camp for too long; it's time to move somewhere else." He packed his things, as if trying to reassure himself. "It's okay, there will always be a better camp. Let's take a walk in the woods; maybe we'll find a better and safer one."
The tent couldn't be taken down, and there wasn't enough time. Anthony sadly tapped the tent as a farewell.
With his bag on his back, he picked up a bunch of things: three metal medicine boxes stacked together, with several rolls of bandages and two boxes of ammunition on top.
He walked quickly toward Simon.
when--
He staggered, the ammunition box at the top fell off, and bullets scattered all over the ground.
"Hey buddy, give me a hand." His voice squeezed out from between the box and his chin, muffled and unclear.
Simon bent down to help pick up the bullets, the strange sound still echoing in his mind.
That pool of liquid will attract many things: fungal corpses, hunting beasts, and even more terrifying beings...
An even more terrifying existence?
He suddenly remembered something Mr. Bell had once said.
"The flesh of sin will carry all the memories, all the information, all the secrets back to the deeper abyss, surrendering everything to the abyss."
The flesh of the incriminating evidence won't run away, so how can it return to the deeper abyss?
Fungal corpses? Probably not. The flesh of the evidence of sin will continuously absorb nutrients from the human body until it is completely drained. It is unrealistic to expect to return to the deeper abyss on human legs.
Relying on those hunting animals? That doesn't seem like a good idea either.
Each level of the abyss is a unique environment. According to Klein, it is difficult to descend from the first level to the second, let alone continue to descend.
Unless it's a creature with wings on its back!
Simon felt a chill run down his spine!
What he just heard was most likely the sound of a monster gliding!
It was very close to them, extremely close! It might be hiding right around them!
"Anthony!"
He looked up abruptly, but the words of advice stuck in his throat.
Anthony was still standing there, holding a bunch of things in his arms, standing there blankly...
But his head had vanished without a trace.
The cut was as clean as sugarcane sliced open with a sharp blade.