Aetherios System [Slow Build OP MC, Isekai LitRPG/Cultivation] Chapter 168: Book 3: Chapter 23: Hiking

Read chapter 168 of Aetherios System [Slow Build OP MC, Isekai LitRPG/Cultivation] by TTReynolds on NovelPedia.

Book 3: Chapter 23: Hiking Chapter 23: Hiking The deeper they pushed into the range, the more strange the world became. Mist clung to the slopes like skin, winding between large, blackened pines and craggy stone outcroppings. The pulsing aether rhythm in the air only grew stronger, Alex could feel it even without [Aether Sight] now, like a steady thrum at the edge of his hearing, like a heartbeat that wasn’t his. The fauna had changed too. Birds no longer sang. Small creatures that should have scurried at their approach didn’t run at all. They froze, bodies rigid, as though waiting for a signal only they could hear. Alex caught sight of a deer locked in place between the trees, eyes wide, breath shallow, unmoving even as the company passed within a dozen feet. A fox crouched low in the brush, but it didn’t flee, didn’t blink. It only stared, shivering faintly, until the mist swallowed it from view as they moved on. It was similar to the way the animals acted before they ran into the Basilisk Mother, but back then the animals simply fled the area, too scared to stick around. Here, they moved about normally until Alex or the others came too close before freezing up entirely. It was a behavior Alex couldn’t come up with an explanation for. No one spoke much. Even Ghrukk’s squad, loud as they were, kept their voices low and clipped. Weapons stayed loose in hands, eyes flicked constantly to the trees. After an hour of steady ascent, the path widened into a shallow fork where old stones and beaten dirt suggested a meeting place. And there, standing casually, as though nothing in the forest was amiss, were three village guards. Two leaned against their spears, chatting idly. The third crouched by a stump, sharpening a blade with careful, slow strokes of a stone. They looked… ordinary, relaxed even. But Alex didn’t miss the faint glassiness in their eyes. The fearful twitch, one would have right after the other. The mercenaries halted as one, retreating quickly and silently so not get spotted, or heard. They gathered up after moving a few dozen yards back down the mountain. “Scouts,” Selka muttered under her breath. Her hand rested casually on her dagger hilt. “Best to deal with them cleanly before they raise alarm.” Alex’s jaw tightened. “We don’t need to kill them. They’re not the enemy.” “Not yet,” Selka countered. “But they will be. All it takes is one shout. The manticore fight is one things, beasts roar and cause havoc all the time, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. But their guards screaming bloody murder up and down the mountainside, that will cause alarm. And you think these villagers haven’t shown us enough to know we don’t belong up here?” Ghrukk’s tusks gleamed in the fog as he rumbled, “She’s right, little human. Kill them quick. Fewer problems later.” “No,” Alex cut in, firmer this time. “That’s not necessary.” His aura itched at the edges of his skin, a reflexive protest. “We don’t even know what’s happening in this village yet. For all we know, they’re victims too.” The Ork’s laugh was like rocks grinding in Alex’s ears. “Victims or not, dead men don’t sound alarms.” The tension knotted between them, Selka’s hand on her dagger, Ghrukk’s fingers flexing around his halberd, Alex’s glare stubborn and defiant. The others shifted uneasily, their weight balanced, waiting to see which way the fight would turn, not with the guards, but among themselves. Then, quiet as a whisper, Zach stepped forward from the back of the group. His pale face was unreadable, shadowed as always, but eyes colder than usual as they flicked to the direction of the guards, then back to Alex. “I have an answer,” he said simply. The way he said it made the clearing colder still. *** The brush prickled against Alex’s arms as he crouched low, breath held. The worldstriders and Ghrukk’s squad huddled in silence, spread wide along the treeline overlooking the guards’ post. Every snapped twig or rustle of wind felt like thunder in his ears. Far to the left,