Chapter 1286: Janitorial Extracurriculars
Another mark. Carl carefully investigated the scarring on the mountain wall. He estimated the battle took place just over a week ago. It was enough to conclude two things. One, they were indeed heading toward the Farsee Court. Secondly, Carl was catching up with them. The earliest traces he'd discovered were two days older.
Covering more ground was by no means a testament to his strength. He was benefitting from his target carving a path of destruction, slaughtering beasts and breaking natural formations through sheer force. He was tracking a real monster. As they should be. It was a sign, proof that his idea was the right one.
Carl absorbed a lingering sliver of Dao into his eyes. The world was drowned in apocalyptic flames that threatened to consume him whole. His vision returned to normal after a fierce struggle, and he followed the golden stream conjured by [Road to Olympus].
Every day, he drew a little closer. There were more than enough marks left to refuel his tracking skill, making it impossible to lose their trail. The dangers he'd faced after experiencing the life of Ervin Mantala, the Senior Surveyor under the Imperial Workshop's employ, were conspicuously absent. The stillness tried to sow seeds of doubt in his heart, telling him he was prey being lured into a trap. He wouldn't let it.
Convictions aside, Carl couldn't stop his beating heart from galloping when he finally spotted the glorious sun burning in the distance. He could vaguely see a figure sitting atop it. They were meting out fiery judgment on a swarm of insects below. Like a true sun, their flames seemed inexhaustible. Having the numbers on their side did nothing to subvert the brood's fate.
Within the hour, a hill of ashes half a dozen miles across was all that remained. A few shells from the more durable beetles stuck out of the funeral pyre. Carl didn't need to use his ocular skills to understand they'd been burnt at a molecular level, destroying any structural integrity they once had.
"I guess it's time," Carl muttered.
He straightened his clothes and flew out, making no attempts to hide his presence. He'd probably been spotted days ago, anyway. The sun shrunk during his approach, turning into a golden disk floating ten meters over the ashes. Carl had planned on landing on it before giving his sales pitch, but he realized he'd been overly optimistic.
What business did a pile of ashes have being so hot? Sweat was already pouring down Carl's face after he'd crossed half the distance. It felt more like he was flying over an active volcano, if that volcano was also outfitted with the withering stare of an indifferent god. There was simply no way. Carl stopped midway, furiously going over the information he'd coaxed out of Ogras and Kruta during their drinking sessions.