Alchemist In The Apocalypse: Rise Of A Legend!



[Third Person POV],

After spending several hours in the true world, searching for monsters and fighting them with his elements this time, Ace could tell that compared to before when he was still unranked and now, when he was a rank 1 human, his elements had also gotten stronger.

For one, his affinity with his elements appeared to have increased and apart from this, they didn't change much or Ace had been unable to uncover the changes out.

Another magic thing related to him that had also improved was his mana pool but this was something he had already been aware of shortly after he evolved in the alternate dimension.

It was currently nighttime so Ace should be heading to the alternate dimension now but before that he wanted to have one final battle with a monster first and this time, he was going to fight using all he had in him including his origin ability.

The two burdens he had to carry along with him were still with him.as well.

His tamed beast had already learned the art of run and hide so Ace didn't have to bother much about it again but the other burden on him, the unconscious elf was another bothersome issue.

She had woken up multiple times in the day just to get knocked out by Ace again.

She was already stressing him in her unconscious state and Ace did not think the elf was going to make it better if she was awake.

This was one of the reasons he kept knocking the elf out into unconsciousness whenever she showed signs of fully awakening.

As Ace and his pet continued to travel through the woods, he also made sure to look out for monsters.

This was how things were progressing when a panel suddenly materialised in front of him accompanied with a bell-like sound that informed Ace that someone had just sent him a message.

Although he was curious as to what had been sent to him, Ace did not rush to read the content on the panel nor did he dismiss it.

He first took a look around his surroundings again to see if there was anyone or anything around him in the dark night and after confirming there was none, he immediately went to read the message that was sent to him.

"Well, would you look at that...….

***********

Deep within the heart of a sprawling, untamed forest, a recently claimed enclave emerged amidst the verdant sanctuary. The ogre rough camp sprawled amidst the dense undergrowth, a testament to their savage conquest. The air was heavy with the scent of freshly spilled blood, mingling with the earthy aroma of torn foliage.

As one ventured closer to the camp, shards of sunlight pierced through the twisted canopy, casting an eerie glow upon the scene. Makeshift huts, hastily constructed from splintered logs and torn branches, stood as symbols of the ogres' dominance over the land. Blood-stained vines slithered around the structures, as if nature itself recoiled from the raw violence that unfolded within.

The camp exuded a palpable sense of aggression and brutality. The echoes of fierce roars and guttural snarls reverberated through the air, blending with the sounds of cracking bones and anguished cries. Laughter, sharp and menacing, mingled with the unsettling rustle of leaves and the distant howls of predators, creating a discordant symphony of savagery.

The ground, marred by deep gouges and trampled underbrush, bore the fresh scars of recent battles. Splatters of crimson marked the soil, a vivid reminder of the violence that permeated the camp. Broken weapons and discarded armour lay scattered about, discarded remnants of fallen foes.

Adornments of gruesome trophies adorned the huts, a testament to the ogres' ferocity and bloodlust. Skulls and severed limbs dangled from crude hooks, their grotesque display intended to intimidate any who dared to challenge their dominion. Symbols of war, crudely carved into tree trunks, spoke of a relentless pursuit of power and a thirst for conquest.

The camp's inhabitants revealed the brutality that defined their existence. They feasted upon raw meat, tearing into fresh kills with sharpened fangs and clawed hands, their faces smeared with the blood of their victims. A cacophony of battle cries and war chants filled the air, punctuated by the rhythmic pounding of fists against chests, a display of unyielding dominance.

In the heart of the camp, a crude arena served as a savage spectacle. The camp's leader, a towering ogre adorned with bone-studded armour, presided over the gladiatorial contests. Battered and bloodied combatants clashed with brutal force, their primal instincts unleashed in a frenzied dance of death. The leader's sinister grin reflected the satisfaction derived from witnessing the carnage.

Nature's beauty twisted into a distorted mockery. Once vibrant flowers, now trampled and crushed, lay wilted and stained with blood. Pools of stagnant water reflected the horrors that unfolded, their still surfaces mirroring the twisted faces of the camp's inhabitants. The very essence of the forest recoiled in the face of such unbridled savagery.

As the sun sank below the horizon, casting an ominous crimson glow upon the camp, the ogres revelled in their dark dominion. They gathered around roaring bonfires, their frenzied movements akin to ritualistic dances of conquest. It was a celebration of their unyielding ferocity, a relentless reminder that within their veins flowed the bloodlust of their ancestors.

The ogre rough camp stood as a monument to the brutality of the wild. It was a place where violence reigns supreme, where the ruthless and the merciless found solace. Amidst the chaos and bloodshed, a twisted satisfaction thrived, for within the heart of these savage beings lay a primordial hunger that could only be sated by the taste of dominance and the thrill of unrelenting savagery.

What the ogres were aware of was that all their activities were currently being viewed by someone.

Covered by the clouds in the sky, Andrew Dawn continuously flapped his large wings as he gazed down at the ant-sized creatures beneath him with cold eyes.