SSS Frost Sovereign: Rewinding The Apocalypse!-Chapter 40: Ambush!

Their attention shifted to the Erwald for further guidance.

The erwald let out a long sigh.

"It is dangerous," he said. "Be even more vigilant now."

"Hmph. It’s not like we have much to fear," one of the younger boys behind the Erwald’s host scoffed. "If spawns beyond our control appear, you’ll just help us, isn’t that right, Rybie?"

Rybie sighed again, deeper this time.

"I said I will step in only when it is dire," he replied. "There is a reason Erwalds try as much as possible not to use their powers outside vicinities. And if I do step in, just hope you are at least able to run. There are many scenarios where I might not even be able to help you escape properly."

What he did not say aloud was clear enough. If multiple high-grade spawns appeared at once, even he could be overwhelmed. And in that situation, their chances of survival would be slim.

"But that’s only if we encounter high-grade spawns," another voice said. "We’re far enough from the vicinity. If we were closer, the only spawns we’d see would be stronger ones capable of approaching the mayor’s territory."

"That’s why we decided to head out this far."

Icard agreed with the logic, if not the confidence.

’High-grade spawns can appear far out,’ he thought. ’But closer to the mayor’s territory, weaker ones are filtered out entirely. What remains are fewer in number, but far stronger, and they do not linger long. So this doesn’t reduce the risk of encountering high-grade spawns. It only increases the chance of encountering lower-grade ones at least.’

"I wish Gyantar came with us instead," a woman from the six-person group said. "He chose to follow Yumin."

’Yumin?’ Icard thought. The name tugged at something familiar.

[You Mean The Incarnation With A Large Number Of Raid Party Members]

Alyxara surfaced suddenly.

Icard stiffened as the sensation brushed through his thoughts, familiar and invasive, like fingers rifling through really private drawers.

’Yeah,’ he replied internally, giving up the resistance.

[Hmmmm. She Was Quite Notable. But Didn’t One Of Her Raid Members...]

Icard cut her off sharply and refocused his attention forward.

His gaze drifted briefly to the man who had suggested pushing ahead. It lingered only for a moment, just long enough to mark him.

The look carried no accusation, only a faint edge of suspicion that had not yet formed into certainty.

Having agreed, and with the Erwald’s reluctant guidance acting as reassurance, the group decided to move forward.

"I also wish Katar came too," Alia muttered as they walked.

"Honestly. What’s up with that cat and crowds, huh. That’s a stupid phobia to have," Matt grumbled, his shoulders stiff and his gaze constantly shifting.

"Stop grumbling, Matt," Reya said quietly. "We’re in enemy lines right now. Prepare yourselves for anything."

Eric nodded in agreement.

Icard let out a light harrumph, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"We’ll make it through," he said.

They passed the rubble of what had once been a small office building, and a mall came into view up what used to be a wide street.

Its exterior was cracked and partially collapsed, glass shattered and hanging loosely from warped frames.

"There," the man who had mentioned the mall earlier said, pointing ahead.

"Let’s check it out," Albert’s men agreed.

They began moving up the street carefully, steps light and measured, keeping formation.

Then suddenly, it happened!

In a flash, Icard moved. He turned back instantly and caught the outstretched arm of one of the men behind them, gripping tightly and twisting just enough to negate the attack before it could fully form.

The target had been Albert’s unsuspecting subordinate, the one holding the flares.

Even so, energy leaked out.

A dull, muffled explosion rippled through the air, kicking up dust and fragments of broken asphalt.

Shouts erupted around them. People stumbled back, weapons raised and confusion spreading as the sudden movement shattered the fragile calm.

Icard tightened his grip, crushing the man’s hand as a frosty whiteness spread rapidly from his palm up his arm.

His awareness never left them for even a moment.

"Aren’t you too predictable, Wester, you bastard?" Icard muttered.

His expression was sharp now, irritation mixing with cold focus.

Dark essence crawled visibly beneath the man’s skin, veins blackening as a shadowy aura seeped from his chest, climbed his neck, and pooled around his eyes.

Then, he let out a small, quiet exhale.

And then his expression changed.

His face went blank, empty, like someone who had lost the ability to reason altogether.

The others reacted immediately too.

Two of them lunged for Icard, but Reya and Eric intercepted without hesitation.

Reya drove her fist into one attacker’s chest, the impact sending him flying backward into a crumbled building with a heavy crash.

Eric followed up, his fist erupting in explosive force as it connected with another man’s face, snapping his head sideways and flinging him back in a spray of blood.

The fourth attacker slipped through the chaos however, low and fast, darting past everyone and charging straight for Albert’s subordinate holding the flares.

"Damn it!" the man yelled, realizing too late that he could not react in time.

The attacker condensed energy into his arm and thrust forward and through his target.

The other subordinate countered instantly. His right fist glowed white for a split second, and a shockwave blasted outward, smashing into the attacker and hurling him away.

The injured man dropped to his knees, coughing and clutching his side.

"Tch," Icard clicked his tongue.

"What’s happening? Why are they fighting?!" someone shouted from one of the other groups.

This was not a spawn attack.

Confusion spread rapidly through the formation. Weapons were raised, but hesitation lingered as people struggled to understand what they were seeing.

But Icard and his group already knew.

"An avarice?" Rybie said, eyes widening as he examined the attackers closely.

Icard shattered the arm of the man he was holding before he could strike again. He reached for the man’s face, frost already forming, but a sudden pulse of energy erupted outward.

The force was dark violet, distorted and rippling like heat through oil. It struck Icard squarely and forced him back several steps.

The man retreated as well, creating distance.

Icard narrowed his eyes.

They were fully taken over. Not dead, not mindless, but hollowed. Their wills overridden, and their bodies moving under imposed command.

They attacked again.

This time, their intentions were focused and directed.

One engaged Reya, another rushed Eric, and the third lunged toward Alia.

While the rest of the raid group stood frozen in confusion, the attackers went straight for Icard’s team, who braced themselves and held the line.

"Do we fire the flares?" the injured subordinate asked.

"We can’t!" the uninjured subordinate yelled back. "This isn’t a spawn attack. And worse, the flares are damaged!"

He struggled to hold his bleeding colleague upright.

"Damn it!" he snarled, eyes darting to the fighting. "Was this their plan? To stop us from sending signals?!"

One of the three-man group muttered quietly, eyes sharp as he observed the situation.

"I don’t think we’re their targets."

Icard pressed the assault relentlessly, giving his opponent no room to breathe. He closed in repeatedly, frost spreading with every strike and graze.

His opponent radiated overwhelming power, far beyond normal limits, yet remained trapped under Icard’s pressure.

Still, there was no sign of pain.

The man was clearly being forced beyond his capacity, body flooded with power while reason was stripped away. He followed only the simplest commands.

’I have to finish this quickly,’ Icard thought.

At that moment, a panel flickered into view.

[Spawn Detected]

[Name: Moundrat]

[Threat Level: D]

Icard gasped.

Then the ground shook violently.

With a deafening crack, the earth split open nearby. Wet, grinding sounds echoed as something massive clawed its way upward.

Thick, guttural screeches followed, layered and distorted, as it vibrated through the ruins.

The moundrats emerged.

Each stood over eight feet tall, their blackened bodies slick with soil and ichor.

They moved as if swimming through solid ground, powerful claws tearing through earth and concrete alike.

Elongated snouts dripped with saliva and bloodshot eyes glowed faintly as they locked onto movement.

The smell of rot and damp earth flooded the air. And they were noticeable alone.