A forest of hair thin threads burst from the ground in a hundred meter radius around my body; it was abrupt, lacking any preemptive warning.

  Fitting for a trap, I suppose.

  The demonic beasts couldn’t react on time. They were hungry, eyes set only on the humans before them.

  Well, that’s how it always goes - mindless prey is the easiest to hunt.

  This, here, was simply another example to solidify the thought.

  In an instant, my threads latched onto hundreds of demons who were busy trying to piece their situation together.

  Some had their ankles bound; others, powerful enough to shrug off my attack, tore through the thicket with little effort.

  But it didn’t matter.

  The moment my threads came into contact with their carapaces and flesh, the process had already begun.

  I was draining their essence and taking it for myself. Normally, that would be an utter waste of time, if not outright detrimental to do - after all, physical contact with an opponent involved putting myself in a very vulnerable position, especially if I wanted to steal a tangible amount of essence.

  This time, too, was no exception. Not even the weakest of the demons were harmed, let alone killed, from essence exhaustion.

  But, heh, who said that was my goal in the first place?

  Sure, I only siphoned trace amounts from each of the beasts, to the point that they might not have even figured out what I’d done.

  But what if I stole just a tiny little bit from, say, ten beasts at a time? What about a hundred? A thousand?

  Or, just imagine for a second; what would happen if several thousand beasts were to ‘share’ a speck of their essence with me ever so graciously?

  Well… There’s no need to imagine anymore.

  After all, that hypothetical scenario was coming to life right before our dear king’s eyes.

  ***

  The king’s eyes, which were skeptically narrowed just mere seconds ago, sprung wide open in shock.

  Before him - and all around - an impossible number of delicate yet vicious threads stuck to the swarm of demons.

  And then, he felt it; an enormous surge of essence, akin to a crushing wave, flooded into the Threadripper’s nearly lifeless body.

  At the same time, three human presences showed up behind him - directly next to the woman and demonic beast who’d interrupted him during the most crucial moment.

  Naturally, being a powerhouse himself, the king didn’t need to turn his head to understand that they were a skilled trio.

  Does the Threadripper have more allies? How odd.

  However, the king had no time to dwell on the details, as a more pressing matter required attention; he acted with zero hesitation.

  With his right arm raised high into the air, fire began to coalesce and a fierce wind howled out due to the sheer concentration of energy.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  *Fwoooosh*

  White flames swirled above his head, forming a two meter wide sphere. It was incomparable to the small flame pearl he’d planned to use on Ori earlier.

  How wasteful…

  That was all the king thought before sharply lowering his arm.

  All of a sudden, the winds calmed. All noises, including the wails of demons and even the howling winds, seized to exit.

  Within that silence, the world froze - it was as if everything, living or not, held its breath before the king’s true prowess.

  ”Threadripper…”

  His voice, despite being quiet, clearly penetrated the stillness.

  One calmly uttered phrase-

  “...Turn to ash for Nether’s prosperity.”

  -and the landscape was no more.

  *Crash*

  *Boooom!!*

  The world cried out in harmony with the King’s burning rage.

  The sky. The earth. The air. The trees. The beasts.

  Everything became mere fuel for the king’s insurmountable flames.

  Hell broke loose.

  ***

  My essence has returned, and with it came back the ability to properly sense my surrounding - ya know, without the use of tendrils.

  I mention this because, just before the king unleashed his bullshit level attack, I noticed three more people for a brief moment.

  Something about them rung a bell, though it’s not like I could actually go and see in person; right now, I was busy hiding beneath a thick layer of molten earth like a little rat.

  Uhh, do rats do that..?

  Either way, it was a really close call. Were I to be even one second late, not even a body would’ve remained of me.

  The instant I realized what kind of insane firepower was about to hit me, I knew something drastic had to happen - namely, I needed to ensure my brain remained intact, as without it I really did just amount to a pile of fleshy threads.

  Funnily enough, that was quite easy to do since I’d already made several deep holes in the ground for the earlier trap; using the preexisting thread channels which I hadn’t yet retracted as a railway of sorts, I sent my brain as far down as I could, in a panic.

  Initially, I thought it might’ve been a bit overkill…

  Yeah, not so sure anymore. Just how stupidly strong is the king, exactly?

  A rhetorical question, cause the answer was obvious - way too fuckin strong.

  *Rumble*

  As if to prove my point, another thunderous explosion reverberated through the earth, reaching my senses despite the tons of dirt and other debris layered above.

  He’s still going, huh? I mean, there’re lot of beasts, so I see why he’d need to keep attacking, but shouldn’t he be getting tired by now?

  *Rumble*

  …No, really. That’s just unfair.

  Eventually, I got bored of clenching my teeth every time the king unleashed a massive attack, plus it made me feel sorely inadequate in comparison - so I decided to begin repairing my destroyed body.

  All sorts of thoughts ran through my mind, mostly to help distract myself for the horribly painful process of reassembling my body.

  That said, it wasn’t nearly as bad as usual, which sparked many conflicting emotions and thoughts:

  My pain tolerance definitely improved. Do I celebrate, or..?

  I mean, it’s probably a good thing overall, since it means I can perform more precise weaves mid combat - but then again, I only got to this level of tolerance by going through true hell, courtesy of Nether’s father-and-son duo.

  In the end, I simply threw my hands in the air, deciding that such musings are way too profound for my liking.

  Once again bored by the lack of stimuli, my thoughts drifted. The king, meanwhile, continued his endless battle against the demonic beasts.

  I wonder what the surface is like right now.

  …On second thought - no I don’t. I’d bet that it’s just a bunch of charred corpses and molted sediment.

  There were also the three strangers to consider. I was certain that I’d felt their essence signatures before, at some point in time.

  Didn't help that my memory of people was as bad as it got, and I unfortunately didn’t have a functional nose when they appeared, so identifying by smell had to go outta the window as well.

  Let’s see… There’s the king, who’s probably gonna stay up above firing beams fire for the next few hours at least…. Oh, and Malrik.

  But no, those three people weren’t even remotely similar to Mal in presence, and the king was literally right next to me; couldn’t have been him.

  I tilted my head to the side, in thought - or rather, attempted to - before being reminded of my temporary ‘habitat’.

  Obviously, Kaela isn’t among the three either. She’s gotta be fighting the beasts… On… The surface…?

  My internal monologue trailed off midway.

  In its place, a deeply suffocating sensation settled on my chest. My heart started pounding wildly, nearly tearing itself apart as it rapidly delivered fresh blood to my overwhelmed brain.

  By now, all I could feel was pure, panic inducing dread - and with that dread, one thought remained:

  Kaela… She’s on the surface.

  I felt like my world was falling apart before my very own eyes.