Chapter 18: THE SILENT WITNESS
Yomi crouched in the shadows, his presence so utterly erased it was as if he had become one with the darkness itself, a skill he used when they passed the ancient doors. The small beast girl trembled in his arms, her soft fur brushing against his skin. Her crimson eyes darted nervously toward the carnage unfolding just beyond their hidden vantage point, where the Ravager party had plunged headfirst into chaos.
This technique, employed by Shinobi, was an art Yomi had perfected long ago in his realm, among the numerous skills imparted to those who tread softly in the shadow of death.
It enabled him to merge flawlessly with his environment, his Ki reduced to a mere murmur, undetectable even to the most acute senses. The creatures that roamed the chamber, grotesque amalgamations of reptilian savagery and demonic spite, disregarded him as they tore through the others.
The beast girl whimpered softly, and Yomi tightened his hold on her. "Hush," he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. "They can’t see us. You’re safe."
Her trembling slowed, though the terror in her eyes remained. Yomi, however, was far from shaken. He observed the scene before him with a cold detachment, his sharp eyes studying every movement. These creatures were unlike anything he’d faced in his world—spiked carapaces, glowing crimson veins, and jaws filled with serrated teeth. They exuded an aura of raw menace, and yet, Yomi found himself... intrigued.
Interesting, he thought, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The hunt had always stirred something primal within him, a part of him that thrived in the dance of life and death. If this new world was filled with abominations such as these, then his path forward would be both perilous and exhilarating.
His musings were interrupted by Milner’s agonized scream. Yomi’s gaze shifted, watching without a shred of empathy as the brutish man was swarmed, his body ripped apart in a gruesome display of claws and teeth.
Not far away, Thanir stumbled backward, his panic evident as a monster’s tail impaled him clean through the chest. He fell to the ground, gasping and pleading, only to be silenced as the life drained from his eyes.
Yomi didn’t flinch. He felt no pity for these men—not because they had enslaved him, but because they were cowards. In Yomi’s eyes, cowardice was the lowest form of existence, and such mongrels deserved nothing more than the fate they now faced.