The First Dragon God-Chapter 79: Unfinished Business

Leo took a look around his surroundings and sighed tiredly.

The area was eerily silent save for the faint rustle of the wind through the ruined streets.

The corpses of the massive spiders and the unfortunate group lay scattered across the ground, a grim reminder of the apocalypse’s unforgiving nature.

Leo turned his attention to the wolves and approached them. His body was still aching from the grueling fight.

Arriving in front of the wolves, he crouched beside Fiona first, his hand moving gently over her fur to check for injuries. She let out a soft whine, leaning into his touch.

"You did great," Leo murmured, and Fiona licked his hand in response.

He moved to the previous pack leader next, running his hand along its sides and noting only a few scrapes.

Then he checked the rest of the pack, methodically ensuring none of them had suffered anything serious. The wolves, despite their usual stoic nature, nuzzled against him appreciatively as he worked.

Fiona stood slightly apart from the group, her posture regal yet protective.

Leo glanced at her, remembering the moment she’d communicated to him that she was now the leader of the pack. It hadn’t surprised him; she had earned their loyalty and respect, just as she had earned his.

The [Empathic Link] of his [Beastmaster’s Bond] skill had conveyed her feelings clearly to him—her pride, her sense of duty, and her acceptance of the role.

"You’re all good," Leo said softly after finishing his checks, standing and dusting off his knees.

He patted Fiona’s head once more. "Thanks, you all. I couldn’t have done this without you."

The wolves let out soft whines and nudged against him, their affection bringing a small smile to his face. For a moment, the invisible weight on his shoulder felt a little lighter.

After spending a few moments playing with the wolves, Leo stood and looked toward the direction the spiders had come from. It was the same direction where one of the group members had been dragged. He frowned, his mind weighing the risk of following the trail.

If the spiders had a nest, it would likely be swarming with more of them—stronger, deadlier ones. He shook his head, sighing deeply. It wasn’t worth it. Not now.

He turned away and started walking back in the direction he’d originally been headed before the group and the spiders had interrupted his journey.

Leo had barely taken a few steps when a faint static sound broke the silence. He stopped, his ears pricking as he tried to locate the source. The sound was muffled, interspersed with crackles of static.

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"Hey, James. How’s things on your side? Any luck getting something edible?" a voice crackled through, slightly distorted but audible.

Leo frowned, scanning the battlefield for the source. The voice was coming from one of the bodies lying on the ground. His curiosity piqued, he walked over to the pile of corpses, searching for the device responsible for the sound.

The voice crackled again. "Hey, James. Can you hear me? I asked how things are on your side. Have you guys taken down any monsters yet?"

Leo finally traced the sound to the body of the man with the crowbar. He crouched and turned the body over, spotting a black walkie-talkie clipped to the man’s belt. He unhooked it and inspected it briefly, turning it over in his hands.

He was about to put it back when the voice came again, laced with a mix of impatience and humor.

"Damn it, James. Why aren’t you responding? Are you perhaps smoking some apocalypse weed right now? You know plants are mutated too, right? Don’t try it, James."

Leo let out a short, surprised laugh despite himself. The absurdity of the statement felt out of place, almost jarring against the grim backdrop of the battlefield, but it added a strange levity to the moment.

His amusement was short-lived. Another voice crackled through the walkie, this time sharp and urgent.

"Everyone, back to base. There’s a large group of people heading toward the entrance of the base, and they look hostile. We need backup right now. Repeat: we need backup."

The urgency in the voice was palpable, cutting through the static with a weight that demanded attention. The message repeated twice before the device fell silent.

Leo stared at the walkie for a moment, his thoughts racing. He had no idea where this base was or who these people were, but the urgency in the voice left no doubt that something serious was happening.

He clipped the walkie to his belt, deciding to keep it for now. He searched the other bodies if he would see another walkie bit he saw nothing.

He motioned to the wolves, and they began moving away from the battlefield. The streets were eerily quiet as they walked, the silence broken only by the soft crunch of debris beneath their feet.

Minutes later, Leo found himself standing at the edge of a crumbling overpass, his eyes narrowing as he spotted movement in the distance.

A group of people was huddled together in the middle of the street, surrounded by another, larger group.

The larger group was armed to the teeth, carrying rifles, machetes, and makeshift weapons. Their postures were aggressive, their movements coordinated. The air around them radiated hostility.

Leo’s gaze shifted to the smaller group. His breath hitched when he recognized them—they were members of Grewishka’s group. Their faces were pale, their bodies tense as they exchanged nervous glances.

One of them—a lanky man with a patchy beard—spotted Leo in the distance. His eyes widened, and he pointed frantically in Leo’s direction, shouting something to the armed group.

The armed group turned as one, their eyes locking onto Leo. The tension in the air thickened, every second stretching into an eternity.

The lanky man shouted again, louder this time. "That’s the kid! The one I told you about! He’s got a base stocked with meat—tons of it! Enough to last for weeks!"

The lanky man’s voice was tinged with desperation, his wide eyes darting between the armed group and Leo.

"That’s him! He’s got a stockpile of food—enough for all of us!" He paused, then added, almost pleading, "If you let us go, we can take you there!"

Leo’s blood ran cold. The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and his jaw tightened as the words sank in.

He had given these people shelter, food, and safety—and this was their repayment? A flame of anger flickered in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm.

Just as he expected, he saw the armed group’s expressions shifted, a mix of interest and malice flickering in their eyes.

One of them, a burly man with a scar running down the side of his face, began walking toward Leo. His movements were slow, deliberate, exuding a menacing confidence... and arrogance.

Leo’s heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on Nightshade. The wolves growled softly, sensing the rising tension.

The scarred man stopped a few paces away, his gaze raking over Leo with a predatory intensity. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Well, well," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Looks like we’ve found ourselves a little goldmine. Tell me, kid… is what they’re saying true?"

The street fell silent, the question hanging in the air like a loaded gun.