Awakened: SSS Ranked Soul king

"Hmmm, what do you think?"

Guilliman asked in the middle of the forest seated atop a tree stump as he carved a piece of red meat. A bitter smirk played on his face as his eyes lingered on the meat infront of him.

"Strange old man performing bizarre rituals all over the forest, killing a member of the Nu, and yet he's simply let off the hook without even a slap on the wrist. He even disappeared briefly during the fight with the Nu, and at the same time, Carlson appeared. I mean, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?" Morgan smirked and spoke in a rather sarcastic tone.

Mason had decided to punish Guilliman and the rest for their insolence by sending them on a hunting party (the worst of all jobs). Maybe he didn't even know where Carlson was himself, but that didn't change the fact that he had led them directly to the person they were looking for—even if unintentionally.

"Hmm, since we're in agreement, then it's time for the next step," Guilliman sighed. They weren't here to kill the guy—they just wanted to know what he was up to so they could prepare appropriately and not be caught off guard during the siege. It wasn't too much to ask at least.

"Sure, I've already mapped out all his ritual spots. We'll check them out later tonight," Jemie nodded promptly a look of seriousness appeared on his face.

Victoria was with the main strike team, looking for a way into the keep without having to fight, while they here were tracing the other part of the Aarons' plans—which they assumed to be the attack of the fog. Instead of training a battalion of slayers armed to the teeth, he was out here running around and performing rituals. His plans were as eccentric as he was.

Later, the old man came back and they wrapped up all their work for the day.

When the sun finally went down, Morgan and Jemie moved out to the camp and visited the various ritual sites in the dead of night. They scouted the old man's ritual sites all night, gathering clues and trying to decipher what exactly they meant, but they found nothing. The meat sacrifices were strange—they weren't consumed, yet they appeared drained of life. It was a very odd scene.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—they found what they were looking for before the morning sun rose, and it was a harrowing sight.

The next morning, both Jemie and Morgan reached the outskirts of the camp and collapsed from exhaustion. Guilliman and Victoria, who noticed them, quickly rushed forward with panicked eyes. After roughly scrutinizing their bodies, they concluded that they were alright; in fact, Morgan was still conscious. After pouring a bucket of water on him, he woke up.

"They were monsters—I can't give a number—but the one that chased us was at least a mythic high-lord," Morgan explained after regaining some consciousness.

After long hours of fruitless searching, the night finally bore fruit—but they quickly came to regret it. A monster arose from the darkness around the trees and bared its fangs at them. The worst part was that these creatures were uniform—a variety of beasts with a crescent-shaped mark on different parts of their bodies. One in particular took an interest in them and gave chase. So, to avoid leading it back to the camp, they took several detours until they finally lost it. Thank goodness their specialty was running and hiding.

"Crescent? Like the moon? Was the mark yellow?" Guilliman quickly asked, a look of surprise written all over his face.

"Yellow? How would I know?!! I didn't have the time to check… maybe it was yellow… or maybe it glowed," Morgan said, then, without a second thought, lay on his back and fell asleep.

By this time, Hamdel had appeared and was checking to see if they were alright.

"Did you think of something?" Victoria asked, noticing the look on Guilliman's face.

He looked shaken.

"Who would have thought, huh?" Guilliman shook his head; he now understood exactly what Carlson was doing. If it weren't for going into the outpost during his spare time and checking through documents, he would surely still be in the dark. Thankfully, he was a snoopy bastard.

"Remember the story I told you about? The one from the past—how they defended the keep and what they defended against?" Guilliman turned to Victoria and asked.

Even that night, he had gone in to check out some books and reports. The picture of what happened to Ravens Peak was vivid in his mind.

"Yes, I do. What about it?" Victoria said, clearly interested in what Guilliman had discovered. The Aaron strike force had failed to find a safe way into the keep, so most likely they would have to depend on Carlson's plans. The details of those plans would become invaluable in the coming days or weeks.

"Among the great beasts that attacked the keep, there was one that fit the crescent moon description he just gave. It's called the Wanning Beast Moon—it had the ability to suck the moon's power, making its surroundings dark and eerie. The slayer then called it the Moon Eater, but it had another name: Fog Bane." Guilliman took a deep breath.

Both the Wanning Beast Moon and the fog drew power from the moon, and as such, they were natural competitors. But the Wanning Beast itself had the eerie ability not only to draw power from the moon but also from the fog.

As such, whenever the Wanning Beast Moon appeared, the Ravens Lord had to make an appearance to stop it from consuming the fog.

"When we killed the mythic tree back in the Plant Folk outpost, I got the charm memory—its description had the tag 'Wanningmoon' in it. I think the great beasts' descendants still roam this forest," Guilliman explained. It made sense; that was why the fog had such a grudge against the tree in the outpost, even going out of its way to attack it.

They were enemies for generations.

It didn't take a genius to add two and two together. It seemed like the Aarons were somehow bringing the Wanning Beast Moon's descendants to fight the fog surrounding the keep.

"Really, I wouldn't have pegged the Aaron family as a group of maniacs—that's more of the Nu family's thing," Victoria smiled bitterly.

These guys were crazy! Calling forth the descendants of a great beast to clear the path for you was insane and would definitely bring about a lot of collateral damage. However, it was also an ingenious plan. By far, the best way to face the fog was to bring the children of the thing it hated to surround it. It would be too busy trying to kill them to focus on the slayers.

As the two sat crouched in front of the camp, some rustling sounded nearby. An old man soon emerged from within the bushes and walked towards them.

"Hm? What's going on? You guys not ready to go out?" Old Man Wilson asked, looking confused at seeing Guilliman in his pajamas.

"Ahh, old man," Guilliman immediately smiled in a strange way. How could he be so nonchalant after what he had just realized? He was crazy.

"Umm, both Jemie and Morgan will be indisposed today, sorry," Hamdel's head suddenly poked out from within the fog, wearing a calm expression.

Actually, he was pissed. He didn't like seeing people get wounded, especially his close friends. He already didn't like the old man for causing them to be in such a state. At least, that was his logic.

"Hmp!!" Sneering at Old Man Wilson, Hamdel snapped the curtains shut and went ahead to heal the two without a second thought.

Meanwhile, "Uhh, since you're short-staffed, I can lend a hand. The strike team is having two days off," Victoria said with a smile to Old Man Wilson.

She really wasn't busy. In fact, they had all but given up on finding a safe path at this moment. They were now completely relying on Old Man Carlson's project. Besides, she wanted to see it herself.

"Ahh? Are you sure?" Old Man Wilson asked, feeling a bit taken aback. From what he knew, Victoria was that friend of Guilliman whom he admired greatly.

She was supposedly in the strike force—he could understand that they had given up—but why would she opt for such dirty and unsanitary work? She was a young lady, after all.

"Sure, why not?" Victoria nodded, then, without a second thought, went to get some of her gear. Guilliman did the same, and they met Old Man Wilson just outside the camp before setting off together. Continue your story on My Virtual Library Empire

"Today is bound to be interesting," Guilliman muttered. He had tact—he understood the need to take things slowly—but Victoria was much more direct. If she wanted to know what the old man was up to, she might just walk up to him and ask. They couldn't really kill her, after all; they were allies.