SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 105: Intense fight

"That pest finally decided to show himself."

Akroa muttered under his breath, his eyes glowing faintly beneath the brim of his battle-worn helmet. Mana swirled around his massive frame like coiled fire, threatening to erupt at the slightest provocation. His long search had finally borne fruit. If not for the urgent royal summons that had forced him to delay, he would’ve razed half the Emerald Green Forest days ago.

Although his fury simmered beneath the surface, Akroa wasn’t careless. He knew better than to underestimate Ricky—not after that bizarre and humiliating disappearance last time. This time, he would be prepared. This time, that pest wouldn’t be allowed to slip through his fingers.

His spiritual field quietly expanded in all directions, probing the space around him with precision.

"Teleportation? Spatial tear? Illusory slip?"

Akroa thought through all the methods Ricky might have used before. One after another, he mentally laid traps, countermeasures, and sealed paths of escape.

But then—his body suddenly came to a halt mid-air, and a deep frown etched itself across his scarred face.

"...Who could it be?"

He whispered, gaze darting across the sky.

Out of nowhere, an unfamiliar yet unmistakably powerful presence surged toward him.

A Stage 3 being.

And they were heading straight for him—fast. With no attempts at hiding their approach, no pretense of peace, their killing intent was barely restrained behind a facade of civility.

Akroa’s expression darkened.

"There shouldn’t be any Stage 3 creatures in this region."

This territory was known to be barren—mana-thin, devoid of rich spiritual energy, and unsuitable for advanced cultivation. Even Stage 2 beings rarely lingered here unless they had a reason. Although the mana concentration had recently begun rising, it was still a far cry from suitable for someone at their level.

So then, why?

Why was a powerful Stage 3 flying toward him like a descending comet?

The air thickened as the aura drew closer. Then, breaking through the veil of sky and distance, a figure appeared—calm, proud, and dressed in battle robes laced with silver thread.

He floated with his arms behind his back, posture relaxed, yet utterly unyielding.

Akroa’s eyes narrowed.

"Royal bearing... that face—"

Recognition struck like thunder.

A mocking grin spread across the newcomer’s lips as he came to a graceful stop, just a few meters away.

"Old man Akroa," Darius said, his tone smooth and laced with amusement, "who could have thought we’d meet like this?"

"I hope my younger brother has been treating you well."

Akroa didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his spiritual force surged instinctively in reaction to Darius’s words, the temperature of the surrounding air plummeting. Frost began to creep across the nearby treetops and stone ridges. The very wind shuddered beneath the weight of colliding fields.

At Stage 3, one’s spiritual field didn’t just detect the world—it shaped it.

Akroa’s eyes flashed with dangerous clarity, his body tensed for battle, while Darius stood at ease, a smirk dancing across his face like a noble toying with a commoner.

Their clash had not yet begun.

But the air itself understood that war might arrive at any second.

---

Meanwhile, after hearing Darius’s words, Akroa let out a deep chuckle, the sound rough like gravel rolling through fire.

"Indeed, Crown Prince. What a surprise."

His voice was laced with amusement—but it rang hollow, like a blade sheathed in silk.

"Who could’ve imagined we’d meet under such... curious circumstances—inside the territory of a pest who’s been terrorizing an entire kingdom?"

He let the words linger in the air, their weight heavy with irony.

"And I must say, I’m deeply touched."

Akroa offered a mock bow, his lips twisting into a half-smile.

"A noble figure like yourself showing concern for my well-being—despite my rather vocal support of your younger brother."

Every word dripped with double meaning, each syllable sharp as a dagger wrapped in courtly manners.

Indeed, Akroa had served under Darius’s younger sibling—a choice that had cost him no small number of enemies. And yet, here he stood, speaking boldly in the presence of Eldros royalty, a man not easily intimidated.

As he straightened, a flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. A quiet provocation hidden beneath layers of military discipline.

Darius, however, remained expressionless.

There was no reaction—no flash of annoyance, no flicker of anger. It was as if he hadn’t heard the subtle insult at all. But the very air around him betrayed the tension—light twisted subtly, the edges of their figures blurring as their overlapping spiritual fields began to reject one another.

The sky itself seemed to lean back, awaiting the inevitable clash.

---

Dozens of kilometers away, deep within the restored halls of the wooden castle, Ricky stood by a large window, his multiple eyes glowing with amusement. His antennae twitched, and his mandibles clicked as he observed the distant tension building in the skies.

He smacked his mandibles together in glee.

"Go, little prince!"

He whispered, his voice thick with gloating.

"Show that old fossil his place!"

Not far from him, several ancient scrolls lay scattered like sacred relics across the floor.

Valemont sat among them, hunched over one particular scroll like a mad prophet who had just unearthed divine truth. His eyes gleamed with fervor, and his lips constantly moved with silent muttering.

He had once again fallen into the abyss of alchemy.

"Carving a formation within a formation to reinforce its internal structure..."

He murmured breathlessly.

"Such layered intricacy... such wisdom...!"

Every single scroll Ricky had brought back was focused on Spiritual Force enhancement, and for Valemont, it was like discovering a new purpose in life.

He didn’t even notice the growing pressure in the distance. His entire world had shrunk into those pages—drawn lines, rotating runes, spiraling formulae etched in golden ink.

From time to time, Ricky glanced at the Guardian Spirit, who stood quietly to the side.

She said nothing.

Yet her amethyst eyes shimmered faintly with reflection, watching everything unfold—the building tension in the air, the blazing ambitions of mortals, and the subtle unraveling of peace.

She didn’t speak.

But it was clear.

She, too, was curious to see which of the two would take the first step.

And what would be left standing after.

Meanwhile, the tension between Darius and Akroa had reached a boiling point—a single breath away from erupting into a full-blown Stage 3 clash.

Their spiritual fields had already collided in a silent storm, dividing the world into two absolute domains.

One side blazed with violent red flames, warping the air like a furnace.

The other exuded a frigid cold that bit through space itself, turning the surroundings brittle and pale.

Even the clouds above began to spiral unnaturally, mana whipping around like a storm caught between two gods. The sky rumbled—not with thunder, but with the sound of clashing spiritual pressure.

The very fabric of the world trembled.

It wasn’t a matter of if a battle would begin.

It was only a question of who would strike first.

Darius’s voice came out low, nearly a growl.

"Don’t force me, old man. Turn back—and leave while you still can."

But Akroa just chuckled, the sound full of scorn and simmering rage.

"How funny, Prince."

He spat the title like a curse.

"The monster who razed the Radiant Knight Order to the ground is lounging in your territory... and you want me to walk away?"

He stepped forward, the ground beneath his feet cracking.

"How presumptuous."

The pressure surged.

"Forget you— even if your father were here, he would’ve made way for me today."

"No one can stop me from claiming my revenge."

His killing intent exploded outward like a tidal wave, making the mana scream and twist in panic. Birds took flight in the far distance, and the forest itself began to quiet, as if holding its breath.

Darius’s eyes narrowed.

He knew now—words were wasted.

He let out a soft snort, his fingers clenching into a fist, veins bulging under his skin.

He’d wanted to deal with this old relic for a long time.

And it looked like the time had finally come.

The old man’s stubborn loyalty to his younger brother had always been a thorn in Darius’s side—a silent rebellion wrapped in formality. It had caused him more than a few headaches over the years.

But no more.

Akroa... it’s time to settle this score once and for all.

The fiery wind howled around him, wrapping his figure in noble wrath.

—

Meanwhile, inside the wooden castle, Ricky’s mandibles trembled in absolute glee.

It was finally happening.

The stage had been set. The curtain was rising.

And now... he would get to watch that annoying old man finally get his face smashed in.

Just the thought of it made his little mosquito heart flutter in delight.

He twitched with excitement, pacing back and forth like a child waiting for fireworks.

"Hehehe... yes, yes, yes!"

At this point, all he wanted was a giant tub of popcorn to munch on while enjoying the scene. He imagined himself lounging in a throne carved from bones, showered in buttery crunch, laughing like a demon lord.

"Hmm! Large tub of popcorn..."

His tiny eyes gleamed, and a strange glint appeared in them.

A dangerous idea began to form in his twisted little mind.

This content is taken from fr𝒆ewebnove(l).com