Awakened: SSS Ranked Soul king

About 3 weeks passed within the dark tunnel.

–boom

The sound of a body being blown away resounded as a black figure was pushed up from within a pipe and into the air, only to come crashing down.

From where the body had emerged, a hand crawled out slowly—covered in a reddish liquid—and a face soon appeared.

"Fucking hell!!" Lying flat on the ground, a young man cursed. But this curse wasn't born from frustration or anger; instead, it was born from relief and sudden relaxation.

He was tired—more so than after fighting that damn mythic tree. Who would have thought that the so-called tunnel to salvation would be fraught with so many monsters?

"Light, finally," another body reached his side from the hole in the ground and fell, allowing itself to meld with the soil.

This scene repeated itself over and over as more individuals emerged from the hole and collapsed in exhaustion.

This was Guilliman and the two cohorts.

They had entered the tunnel hoping for smooth sailing until they reached Ravens Peak. After all, what they had achieved just to reach that tunnel was a lot—having fought a mythic beast of the high-lord code and all.

But no—fate decided to mess with them by giving them an army of ground moles ranging from mutant to sacred. It was as if an infection had taken over the tunnel, filling it with these dreadful black vermin.

Fighting their way out of there in the dark was the most grueling experience Guilliman had ever faced—besieged from all corners, with no way forward or back—and to make matters worse, Quinn had scouted and realized that the fog was actually present ahead.

If not for that crack in the tunnel that seemed to appear out of nowhere, they would have probably died of exhaustion or from the fog they were unknowingly running toward.

"Hmm," after lying still for a few minutes, Victoria stood up. Her silver hair was covered in black tar and dirt—a far cry from her usual princess look.

"We're really close," she muttered, looking into the distance.

A massive hill loomed over them not too far away. In fact, they were about two days away.

Hearing those words, Guilliman and the rest raised their heads and looked at the looming hill crowned with a castle.

Ravenspeak.

They were almost there. Unfortunately, the tunnel was no longer an option. They would need to find another way… However, all of a sudden,

"Don't move, or we'll riddle you with holes!!" A voice resounded from within the bushes as several young men and women notched their bows in their direction.

"Slayers?" Guilliman frowned. Weren't they already slayers this far in? He had thought they were the exception—but it seemed that was not the case.

And just like that, they were captured and brought to a large camp clearing on a hill right next to an outpost.

"Stay here while we verify your identity," the slayers whom had captured them instructed as they pressed them against several poll posts and tied them up, with ropes, then made their way into the camp.

"Do you recognize any of them?" Guilliman asked Barthold calmly as he watched them leave. They had come willingly; leaving wouldn't be hard, and seeing more slayers was good—they could share information if they got close enough.

"Yeah… the kid with the sharp nose, from the Aaron clan…I've seen him before now," Barthold replied calmly.

The Aaron clan was one of the three main families in the Blacksteel Shelter; they excelled in survival and organization tactics and were talented fighters and scouts—the perfect combination for exploration.

It was a no-brainer that they would survive this long… but this number, though, was alarming.

There seemed to be over a hundred slayers in this camp.

"I can concur— that one in particular recognized me. He was just being an asshole," came a familiar voice from the post opposite where Guilliman and Barthold were tied.

Cyrus.

Yes, he had no choice but to wake up after all that went on in that tunnel. All it took was a good smack to the head from a vicious beast to reset him and wake him up from his comatose state.

"Aiii, looks like we found a place to rest, huh?" Despite being tied up, Guilliman felt relief. He could really use a good, long sleep after all they had gone through—from sleeping in trees, to fighting poisonous plants, then going against not one but two mythic beasts.

The stress of the fog alone was enough to knock him out, not to mention the tunnel and its endless horrors which they had to face for weeks on out. He really felt tired.

A few minutes later, Victoria, Cyrus, and Barthold were taken away to see the leadership of the encampment, after which they were all let go and allowed to set up camp on the far side of the hill.

At night, the fog wouldn't climb the hill, only lingering around its base. This place was truly worthy of being a camp for slayers—a place to finally rest.

And so they did. They rested for several days and spoke nothing about how to get to the keep or what strategy they needed to adopt. It was really blissful.

Of course, all good things were bound to come to an end. As Victoria finally gathered them together one fateful night and briefed them on the situation— or rather, what she knew of the situation…

Apparently, this wasn't the only camp around. The three families had set up camps concentrated around the area, each helming an army of slayers.

It confirmed a few of Guilliman's thoughts—for example, it seemed that the Valor family had indeed survived and was still striving. As for the others, that was why they hadn't entered the keep just yet.

The dreaded fog.

They had seen it from very far away, but had hoped there was at least a way in without facing it. However, this was not the case, apparently.