SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 133: The time is now

Ricky sliced through the undead horde like a ghost in the wind, weaving through the endless tide of death. Each step he took, each flicker of his spiritual field, reduced the nearest undead to clouds of ash and powdered bone. They collapsed in pieces—tens, hundreds, thousands—erased in the blink of an eye, their fragmented remains scattering into the wind.

Yet it made no difference.

The sea of undead surged endlessly, like waves crashing against a defiant cliff. For every creature he felled, a hundred more took its place—silent, relentless, and unfeeling. Some burned with eerie, baleful fire, while others growled with guttural rage, their eyes soulless and hollow.

Ricky’s compound eyes flared with eerie brilliance, constantly shifting as he scanned the battlefield.

But no matter how much ground he covered, he found no trace—no signature, no spiritual pressure—of any undead princess.

What he did find, however, made his jaw tighten.

Humans.

Countless human bodies littered the forest floor, trampled and disfigured beyond recognition. Mangled armor, shattered weapons, and broken limbs were strewn across the burning landscape like confetti at a funeral.

"So fast..." Ricky mused coldly, his thoughts laced with disappointment. It looks like the Federation didn’t last long at all.

He soared higher, pushing himself above the choking smoke and ash, his eyes narrowing at the scene unraveling below. With each second that passed, the grim lines on his face deepened.

It became all too clear.

The leaders... they were gone.

It didn’t take long to find their remains—three mutilated corpses lying half-buried beneath scorched rubble. Their spiritual fields had long since dispersed, leaving behind only hollow shells of what were once the final hope of their respective races.

Ricky hovered silently, staring down at them.

So they really fell.

He hadn’t held much faith in their survival, but still... some small part of him had expected better. Or maybe he was just hoping to be proven wrong.

Or was I expecting too much?

The forest below had become an open graveyard. The earth drank blood like it had starved for centuries, and now the sky darkened in solidarity—clouds rolling in, masking the heavens in an eerie twilight.

It was as though the world itself had begun to mourn.

Ricky floated even higher, piercing through the canopy and climbing into the sky until the entire battlefield unfolded before him.

From down below, the undead invasion looked like a senseless flood of chaos. But from up here, from the sky’s silent perspective, the truth became clear.

It wasn’t chaos.

It was a strategy.

Like a dagger thrust into flesh, the undead were advancing in a precise spearhead formation. A wedge—narrow at the front, wide at the base—designed to break through the heart of the Emerald Green Forest and fracture its defenders.

They’re not mindless beasts, Ricky thought grimly, They’re a well-coordinated army.

And that could only mean one thing.

Someone—or something—was commanding them.

Ricky’s compound eyes shimmered with a predatory gleam. His lips curled into a faint, dangerous smile.

"So... where are you hiding, then?"

The hunt had just begun.

At the heart of the undead formation, the strongest beings advanced like the tip of a blood-soaked spear—silent, ruthless, and precise. Their spiritual pressure crackled with power, radiating from the sharp central wedge like the hiss of a drawn blade. These were the real monsters, the ones bred to tear through any resistance with terrifying speed and precision.

The further one moved from the center, the more the undead began to shift in form—bulkier, less agile, but no less dangerous. Their role was not to overwhelm but to stabilize, to support the terrifying charge of their elite kin, acting like the shaft of the spear, holding the deadly point steady.

High above, the air shimmered—then tore apart with a faint crack.

Darius and Felicia landed beside Ricky, their figures appearing like wraiths of wind and light.

Their auras pulsed with residual energy. Darius’s breath was steady, but the faint flickers of lightning along his arms betrayed his recent exertion. Felicia, by contrast, was clearly winded. Her flowing robes, usually pristine, were marred by streaks of an unknown black liquid, smoldering faintly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as if she’d just emerged from a storm.

Ricky gave them a slight nod—silent approval. He didn’t need to say much.

While he carved his way through the frontlines, they had held the back, making sure none of the slithering undead had reached the spiritual grove or the heart of the forest.

His eyes drifted back down.

The battlefield below was like a rotting tapestry—muddy earth, scorched foliage, and an ever-growing tide of shadows.

He wasn’t interested in the grunts anymore. No matter how many rose from the pits, no matter how many he turned to ash, this war would never end unless he crushed the masterminds behind it.

The three Undead Princesses.

His compound eyes shimmered like obsidian stars as he scanned through layers of spiritual energy, hunting for anomalies.

They were hiding—he was sure of it. But they couldn’t hide forever.

---

Meanwhile, back at the wooden castle...

Boar stood tall upon the stone platform, flanked by rows of soldiers arrayed in formation.

Their armor gleamed with oil and sweat under the dim forest light. Despite the stench of blood drifting in from the battlefield, the soldiers stood unshaken—each face filled with raw purpose.

Boar’s eyes swept over them, his gaze cold and solemn. But beneath that hardened expression was a burning sense of pride.

He took a step forward, and his voice echoed like a drumbeat through the quiet ranks.

"The time has come."

The forest seemed to pause.

"Today, we show the world that with us standing here, no one—no one—dares to defile our land. We are the roots of the Emerald Green Forest. If we fall, the world falls with us."

The soldiers clenched their fists. Flames of conviction danced in their eyes, brighter than the torches that lined the wooden walls.

No one shouted.

No one cheered.

But in that silence, their resolve screamed.

They were ready.

And soon... they would march.

Especially Ramon—he had waited just for this moment.

This battle... the Venom Fang Overlord will definitely be watching.

His heartbeat quickened with the thought. If he could perform well—stand out amidst the storm—then perhaps...

His eyes turned toward the towering silhouette of the wooden castle in the distance. The structure loomed like an ancient guardian in the sea of chaos, its wooden spires piercing the smoky skies like solemn lances.

Just one look at that monolith of authority, and Ramon’s fighting spirit surged anew. His hands clenched tighter around his weapon. He wasn’t just a soldier anymore—he was a contender for recognition.

I must impress him... I must prove I’m worthy.

---

Meanwhile, deep within the alchemical laboratories of the Emerald Green Kingdom...

A sharp, piercing shriek shattered the silence like glass.

"How can this happen?! This isn’t alchemically possible!"

Valemont’s voice rang out like a banshee’s wail, echoing through the arched stone chamber.

His hands trembled as he stared at the radiant object in Rosary’s palms—a pill so bright, it almost seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. The luminous glow bathed the room in a soft golden hue, shimmering off brass instruments and crystalline beakers.

Rosary, in stark contrast, wore a tired, tight-lipped smile—tinged more with irritation than pride.

This again...

She had seen this reaction far too many times in the past few days to be amused by it anymore. Her mind was not in the lab—it was on the frontlines, where blood was being spilled by the minute.

Valemont, however, was too overwhelmed to notice.

Darius really wasn’t lying...

He had scoffed—snorted in disdain—when Darius had introduced Rosary as someone who could assist with high-level pill crafting. But now?

Now he couldn’t stop staring.

The pill in his hand was one of his own—a standard mid-tier healing pill, refined for the Emerald Green Kingdom’s army. Valemont had crafted hundreds of them himself.

But after Rosary’s subtle enhancement—just one session, one technique—the pill’s potency had increased by twenty percent.

Twenty percent.

Not ten. Not five. Twenty.

It wasn’t just unbelievable—it defied the known boundaries of alchemical theory.

He turned to her again, eyes blazing like twin furnaces.

"How in the world did you do that?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

But Rosary just waved him off.

"Trade secret," she muttered dryly, already moving on to the next refinement task.

Valemont looked back at the glowing pill in disbelief. He could feel its increased power, its balanced structure, the potent ripples of medicinal energy radiating outward.

If she can enhance a pill like this...

His thoughts spiraled. His heart, normally as calm as a scholar’s lake, surged with hope.

Maybe... just maybe...

Maybe she can help with the poison.

His hand tightened unconsciously around the edge of the worktable.

Ricky’s poison—the curse that devoured anything living, the venom of a sovereign. Even Valemont, with all his talents and theoretical knowledge, had made little progress in neutralizing it.

But now...

Now there was a chance.

A solemn weight settled over Valemont’s face. His usual arrogance faded, replaced by something rarely seen in him—reverence.

Who would’ve thought...

That the infamous Venom Fang Sovereign...

Would have such a soft heart.

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