Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel - Chapter 353

Chapter 353: Witnessing the use of the Mirror Egg
Night fell in the Highlands.

Under the celestial gaze of the twin moons, Chiron and Mani, shadowy figures cloaked in darkness, navigated the rugged terrain of the highlands.

The moonlight bathed the mountains in a soft, ethereal glow, creating a stark contrast to the shadows they moved through. Their determined steps echoed in the silence of the night, as they stealthily approached the mine that held the Orange Aura tribe village captive.

As they neared their destination, the ominous silhouette of the Vandorian army camp emerged against the backdrop of the moonlit mountains.

Torches flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced on the rocky walls. The air was thick with tension, the very mountains bearing witness to the oppression that had befallen the villagers turned slaves.

The mine sprawled before them, a desolate landscape marred by the toil of the oppressed.

The villagers, once free, were now shackled by the chains of Vandorian oppression. The harsh clang of pickaxes striking rock echoed through the night, a melancholy symphony of suffering. The raw vasma steel, coveted by the Vandorian army, lay exposed in the cold moonlight, a silent testament to the villagers’ plight.

Soldiers, draped in the crimson banners of Vandoria, patrolled the perimeter with whips in hand.

Their eyes bore the cruelty of tyrants as they lashed out, the sharp crack of the whip punctuating the rhythm of misery. The villagers, sweat-soaked and weary, toiled under the unforgiving gaze of their oppressors.

In a heartbreaking scene, an old man, stooped with age and burdened by the weight of raw vasma steel, struggled to carry the heavy load upon his frail shoulders. Every step seemed to be a battle against time, and the moonlight revealed the lines of exhaustion etched upon his weathered face. His eyes, once filled with vitality, now mirrored the weariness of his soul.

With each labored step, the old man faltered, the burden proving too much for his tired frame. The raw vasma steel, a symbol of both strength and suffering, slipped from his grasp, crashing to the unforgiving ground. The echoes of his fatigue reverberated through the silent night.

The Vandorian soldier, unmoved by the old man’s struggle, approached with a cold detachment. The whip cracked through the air, the sound a cruel punctuation to the old man’s desperate gasps for breath.

The leather strands of the whip left angry welts on his back, a brutal evidence to the soldiers’ callous disregard for the villagers’ humanity.

Chiron, hidden in the shadows, clenched his fists in silent fury. The injustice unfolding before him fueled the fire of rebellion burning within. Mani, his silent companion, shared in the quiet rage, their eyes meeting in an unspoken vow to liberate the oppressed.

Mani could tell that Chiron was good person. After all, he shared the same ideals with him.

But in truth, Chiron could careless. However, if it helped to push his agenda then he would do it.

“Igbi! remember the plan!” Mani advised.

Chiron nodded and moved.

He suddenly came out of hiding. Immediately, he attacked the Vandorian soldier with a sweep of his sword.

He had attacked from behind. However, the Vandorain soldier immediately gave a slight smile as he kicked against the ground and leaped into the air.

He had somehow managed to dodge the attack, jumping into the air to land behind Chiron.

The soldier chuckled lightly. He quickly recognized Chiron’s yellow attire as that of the flavus Aura tribe of Fear.

“HAHAHA!!! What do we have here? A Yellow aura user. What is it, are you here to join your fellow Highlanders and dig up our Vasma steel or do you want to leave them your corpse to bury!”

As he said this, more Vandorian soldiers suddenly gathered all around him.

“Hmmm!!! So this is the power of the Bear mother I have heard so much about.”

Chiron nodded his head.

After all, he had been very fast, and he had also attacked with incredible precision. However he had still missed his target.

Chiron suddenly smiled. After all, that attack had not come with his peak Copper rank.

He could clearly see that the men before him were mostly of the stone rank. With those of the Copper rank far behind.

Chiron suddenly waved his hands, summoning his Aura energy. Even though it was masked to look like that of the yellow aura tribe, it still gave that bone chilling feeling to his opponents.

“Let’s see if you can dodge this!”

He moved again.

*BOOM!*

The difference in cultivation rank was not something that the help of the Bear mother could help them escape. After all, seeing that danger was coming was one thing, and having the ability to be able to evade it was another thing.

Blood, limbs, and organs went up into the air. Chiron’s aura diffused into the environment aided by his sword to kill anything that walked on two legs and was a Vandorian.

Mani watching from the shadows nodded at this.

All of a sudden, a soldier brought out a horn from a pouch and blew into it.

This was the signal to all the others that they were under attack.

Instantly, soldiers chased after Chiron. And far off in the distance, Chiron could see that three Bronze rank fighters were also coming along.

Immediately, he placed his sword to his side as he turned and ran into the night.

As the twin moons continued their celestial dance overhead, Chiron sprinted into the night, his heart pounding with urgency. The rugged terrain of the highlands became his chaotic battleground, the uneven ground beneath his feet challenging his every stride.

Behind him was the relentless pursuit of Vandorian soldiers echoing through the silent expanse, a haunting symphony of metal and heavy boots.

The moonlit night cast elongated shadows, Chiron’s figure flickering like a phantom as he darted through the darkness. His breath came in ragged bursts, a testament to the urgency of his mission. The cold wind swept across the highlands, carrying with it the scent of danger and rebellion.

Chiron’s every step was a dance with danger, his agile movements a proof to a long time of honed skill. His cloak billowed like the wings of a shadowy bird as he wove through the night, dodging trees and leaping over rocky outcrops. The urgency of his mission fueled his speed, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The Vandorian soldiers, a relentless tide, pursued Chiron with determination. Their crimson banners fluttered in the night breeze as they closed in, a sea of armor-clad adversaries hungry for retribution. Yet, the darkness was Chiron’s ally, concealing him like a shroud.

As he ran, Chiron’s hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword. At intervals, he turned to face his pursuers, his blade flashing in the moonlight as he parried their attacks. The clash of steel and the sparks that erupted in the night were a testament to the fierce dance of combat. His movements were fluid, a symphony of strikes and evasions, each turn and twist of his body a calculated maneuver to outsmart his adversaries.

In the midst of the chase, the Vandorian soldiers, relentless but blinded by their rage, failed to notice the subtle shift in the shadows. Mani, ever silent and elusive, seized the opportunity created by Chiron’s diversion. Like a ghost, he slipped past the distracted soldiers, his movements unheard and unseen.

Mani, guided by the flickering torchlight, ventured into the Vasma steel caves where the villagers toiled under the weight of oppression. The air within was thick with the metallic scent of the coveted ore. The dim glow of the vasma steel illuminated the plight of the villagers, their faces etched with weariness and despair.

With nimble fingers, Mani worked to undo the shackles that bound the hands of the oppressed. The villagers, initially bewildered, soon realized the arrival of a savior in the shadows. Whispers of hope spread like wildfire among them as they began to understand that liberation was within reach.

Back in the open expanse, Chiron continued his desperate evasion. The Vandorian soldiers, growing increasingly frustrated, unleashed their mystical totems of animals to hunt him down. Spiritual beasts materialized from the darkness, their eyes gleaming with an otherworldly glow. Chiron, undeterred, met the spectral onslaught with a combination of skill and agility, his blade cutting through the ethereal forms.

As Chiron continued his sprint, the landscape transformed into a labyrinth of moonlit passages and rocky obstacles. He could feel the weight of the chase bearing down on him, the soldiers relentless in their pursuit. Yet, every turn and evasion only fueled the fire within him—the fire of rebellion, of freedom.

Suddenly, Chiron stopped in front of a mountain. On his left was yet another. and to his right was another. The mountains high and encompassing formed a cage around him.

“You are trapped” one of the soldiers muttered!

Chiron chuckled “I know right? If I was you, I would pity you too!”

The moment he said this….