Outsider

Chapter 17: Outsiders

"Hoo~!" A rough male voice echoed through the dense jungle, followed by a "boom" as the sound of neat hoofbeats striking the ground shook the earth violently.

The rustling of falling leaves scattered the ordinary beasts foraging nearby in fright. However, a few Fierce Beasts, exuding a ferocious aura, charged towards the group of about twenty men in black.

Generally, Fierce Beasts lack intelligence. Only those reaching the Seventh Order possess intelligence comparable to adult humans. Upon reaching the Seventh Order, Fierce Beasts undergo a magical transformation, after which they can take on human form, appearing no different from humans.

However, this transformation is extremely dangerous; nine out of ten perish due to unsuccessful metamorphosis. Consequently, Seventh Order and above Fierce Beasts are exceptionally rare on the continent, seldom seen in normal times.

But is that truly the case? The continent is so vast, no one knows its true extent. Yet, people's thoughts are easily influenced by existing knowledge, leading them to make assumptions.

"Bang!" A dull impact sound rang out, accompanied by the chilling crack of breaking bones. The charging Fierce Beasts were sent flying without any resistance, crashing heavily onto the ground or into trees. With a "creak," a tree requiring three adults to embrace snapped at the point of impact, falling to the ground and crushing a patch of green.

"Hmph! Seeking death!" The leader glanced indifferently at the Fierce Beasts lying dead on the ground.

He was a burly man with a rugged face, a ferocious scar about an inch long on his left cheek, a somewhat dark bald head, and cold eyes. He exuded an incredibly dangerous aura, a man who undoubtedly killed without batting an eye. The ferocious aura emanating from him occasionally was even more terrifying than that of the Fierce Beasts in the jungle.

It was he who had killed those Fierce Beasts with a single hammer strike. With just a casual swing, several Fierce Beasts, including a Fourth Order one, were instantly annihilated without resistance. This demonstrated his formidable strength, definitely reaching the level of a top-tier master. On the continent, to be called a top-tier master, one must at least be a Sixth Order Emperor.

"Move!" The bald man uttered a single word from his lips.

The nineteen men behind him trembled and immediately followed on horseback, clad in uniform black combat attire, their faces grim. Each of them exuded the aura of a powerful individual, with at least Fourth Order King strength. Such a lineup was truly terrifying.

It's known that after the Third Order, warrior cultivation becomes incredibly difficult. The transition from the Third to the Fourth Order is a watershed moment, and crossing it is exceptionally hard, with many remaining stuck there their entire lives.

Reaching the Fourth Order qualifies one as a master. Each subsequent tier increase is even more arduous. Reaching the Sixth Order earns one the title of a top-tier master. Then, the transition from the Sixth to the Seventh Order is another watershed, so difficult that it deters countless geniuses on the continent.

If the leap from Third to Fourth Order is like crossing a chasm of ten thousand fathoms, then the transition from Sixth to Seventh Order is as difficult as ascending to heaven. Upon reaching the Seventh Order, one can walk on air, beginning to touch upon the power of space, an ability everyone yearns for.

This formidable group of black-clad individuals slowly advanced along the path. Suddenly, the path ended, revealing a dense expanse of forest.

The bald man frowned as he looked ahead, then calmly issued an order: "Everyone dismount. Tie your horses here, and we proceed on foot!"

"Yes!" Without any extra words, only neat responses were heard, indicating a well-trained team. Such a unit undoubtedly belonged to a major power on the continent, but it was unclear what they were doing in this wilderness.

The group traveled for about an hour but remained lost within the jungle. The bald leader's brow was tightly furrowed. This jungle was so vast, aimlessly wandering within it was not a solution. After much thought, he could not devise a plan, so he reluctantly ordered the team to head deeper into the forest.

Despite the extreme dangers of the deep forest, the orders from above had to be executed without any slack. The master's fearsomeness and omnipotence were beyond doubt; otherwise... Thinking of this, even the tough and murderous bald man couldn't help but shiver.

As time passed, ten days went by. The group had traveled deep into the forest, encountering increasingly more Fierce Beasts. Along the way, five men had already died, three were seriously injured, and the others sustained minor or more significant wounds. Only the bald man remained unharmed, though he appeared somewhat disheveled and weary.

"Damn it!" Even the usually stoic bald man couldn't help but curse. In his rage, he smashed the last Fierce Beast lunging at him into a pulp with his giant hammer.

"Boss, this can't go on! We've already lost several brothers!" A tall, thin subordinate approached, a hint of grief flashing in his eyes as he spoke, panting heavily.

The bald man glanced at him indifferently and said with resignation, "Everyone, come over and rest!" With that, he stomped on the ground and shot up to the top of the largest nearby tree like a streak of light, standing perfectly still.

The bald man's name was Rook. This was not the first time he had climbed a tree, yet he still couldn't find their direction. According to the master's instructions, they should be in this vicinity, but nothing had been found. If another day of searching yielded no results, they would have to retreat. After all, that intangible thing, though its sudden appearance that day had caused a great stir, its exact location was unknown. They had already lost time on the journey, and now so much time had passed, it was likely long gone. Rook thought to himself.

His gaze swept across various directions, but after a long while, he still found nothing. With a sigh of helplessness, he was about to jump down from the tree.

However, his movement suddenly halted. His gaze fixed intently on the distant, dense forest. A faint wisp of smoke was slowly rising. If not for Rook's naturally keen eyesight and formidable strength, no one else would have been able to spot it. Although the wisp of smoke was faint, Rook recognized it.

It was cooking smoke! Yes! Cooking smoke!

Rook was filled with disbelief. How could there be cooking smoke in this desolate wilderness? Could there be people living here?

With this question in mind, Rook jumped down from the tree. He scanned his subordinates and said with a hint of surprise, "Everyone stand up, prepare to move out. I've spotted cooking smoke not far ahead!"

"Cooking smoke?" Exclamations of disbelief rippled through the group.

"Alright, quiet down!" Rook roared.

"Move out!" Immediately, everyone quickly formed ranks and followed Rook, dashing forward.

About half an hour later, the outline of a village appeared before them, bringing smiles to everyone's faces.

After all, they had been traversing the jungle for so long, constantly on guard, enduring numerous attacks from Fierce Beasts, losing five men, and with the rest bearing wounds and exhaustion. The sudden appearance of a village brought an inexpressible joy.

"Stop! Who are you people! What are you doing here?" A young man in his early twenties blocked their path.

Rook frowned at this. The youth's shouting at him was irritating. A short subordinate beside him grinned menacingly, "You brat, you really don't know your place, daring to yell at us like that, hmph!" As he spoke, he threw a punch.

Rook merely said calmly, "Don't cause any deaths!" "Yes!" The short man's fist paused slightly upon hearing this and he responded. The youth, Pierre, though having reached Third Order General at such a young age, was no match for the Fifth Order Sect Master, the short man. With a dull thud, Pierre's body flew backward in a parabola, spitting blood.

"Hmph!" The short man snorted contemptuously, glancing at Pierre writhing on the ground.

These people were accustomed to killing without mercy, none of them soft-hearted. Moreover, after more than ten days in the jungle with heavy losses, they were all holding back pent-up anger. Now that this youth had run into them, there was no room for politeness!

Many villagers, alerted by the commotion, rushed over. Seeing the scene, they began to curse angrily. A few strong men even picked up their hammers and hurled them towards Rook's group, but without exception, they were all sent flying back by the short man's hammer.

And at this very moment, a furious roar carrying an overwhelming aura echoed from afar, "Stop!"