SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 161: You are hiding here?

Time flowed on, unceasing and silent, like water slipping between cupped hands. In the blink of an eye, without Ricky even realizing it, two full years had passed since the day he transmigrated into this world.

The last few weeks had been strangely uneventful for the Emerald Green Kingdom. No restless waves of undead surged from the shadows, no monstrous hordes prowled the borders, and no rogue warriors dared to mount a reckless assault on their lands.

Since Ricky’s return, even the lingering threat of resentment-born monsters had been swiftly purged, their corrupt presence snuffed out with ruthless efficiency. For the first time in recent memory, the kingdom—once part of the perilous Thousand Beast Forest—had entered what could only be described as a golden age.

Mana density reached heights unseen in generations, saturating the air with a faint, invigorating hum that cultivators could almost taste on their tongues. The population boomed, drawn by whispered rumors of opportunity and safety. Fields thrived where once only gnarled roots had clung to the soil, and the deep green of the land seemed to glow with new life.

So enticing was the transformation that people from across the far reaches of the Eldros Kingdom traveled to stake their claims. At the very heart of this prosperity, so close to the massive wooden castle it seemed almost impertinent, an entire city had sprung up in a mere handful of months.

Some might wonder—how could Ricky allow such a city to be established at his doorstep?

The answer lay in the shadows of his own experiences. Once, he would have never permitted it, wary of exposing his stronghold to vulnerability. But his battle with the Undead Princess had planted seeds of new ideas in his mind. He now saw the city not merely as a settlement, but as a weapon. In times of need, it could be transformed—its layout, infrastructure, and even its people woven into the mechanisms of a singular, devastating war machine.

While the common folk reveled in peace, unaware of the quiet gears turning beneath their feet, the expressions of Stage 3 beings told a very different story. With each passing day, their faces grew darker, clouded by a nameless dread they could not shake. Many no longer dared to step out into the open. They withdrew instead into the deep, stone-laced hollows of caves, spending their days in tense silence, huddled together as though the walls themselves could shield them from whatever hunted in the unseen places.

From time to time, rumors would seep into the streets like smoke—rumors of sudden disappearances. Not of the weak or the reckless, but of legendary figures, warriors whose names once commanded respect and fear alike.

And with each name whispered in hushed tones, the shadow over the kingdom deepened.

And on one such day, grim tidings swept through the Emerald Green Kingdom like a shadow over sunlit ground.

The leader of the Iron Fang Legion—Kael Dorn’s father—had fallen.

The cause? A mystery.

No messenger carried the details, no witness spoke of the moment. The truth simply... never came.

That day, Kael had not left his room, no matter who called for him. Not a word passed through his door. Since then, the daemon had been different. His pride, once sharp yet tempered, now carried an unpredictable edge. He flared at the smallest slight, as though the loss had left cracks in him where rage could spill through.

Yet, no one from Ricky’s camp went to comfort him.

It wasn’t that they didn’t notice his pain—it was that they couldn’t afford to. Every heartbeat carried the weight of another expectation: that one day, the King of Eldros himself would come to hunt them down.

The air in the camp felt taut, as if the wind itself hesitated to stir. The situation had grown so grim that the regular gatherings at Dark Shadow’s garden—a tradition among Ricky’s inner circle—had been quietly suspended.

Ricky, however, remained wholly unconcerned.

In this span of uneasy quiet, he had already drawn ten more Stage 3 prisoners out from the inheritance space, each bound to him in their own way.

Among them:

Selesora Windveil — an early Stage 3 like the others, but a master of illusions whose craft could twist both sight and mind.

Thrixil — an insectoid queen whose hive-born instincts made her both a strategist and a weapon in herself.

Sir Allon of Crystal Lance — a knight whose crystalline weaponry could pierce almost any defense.

Kayin — a being whose special flames burned with colors no ordinary fire could mimic.

Some had once been enemies, their pasts tangled with Ricky’s in blood and betrayal. Others were simply too weak to matter—subpar, their presence tolerated rather than embraced.

And yet... one remained conspicuously absent.

The Voidborne girl.

Her powers were too strange, too difficult to pin down—especially her ability to vanish without a trace. Ricky had chosen not to bring her forth. For now.

Together with Darius and the rest, more than a dozen Stage 3 beings now called the Emerald Green Kingdom their home.

By numbers alone, they stood as the strongest force in the region.

But strength in numbers could only go so far.

Without a peak Stage 3 powerhouse to anchor their might, they could not yet rule the territory outright. Not with the King of Eldros still looming like a storm on the horizon.

Inside the wooden castle, the air felt heavier than the thick beams holding its roof aloft.

Darius sat at the long table, his gaze sweeping over the gathered Stage 3 beings. Shadows from the torchlight danced across their faces, making their expressions seem harsher, more worn than usual.

"We need to do something," he said at last, his tone flat but edged with urgency. "We can’t just keep relying on the Overlord. What if he decides not to save us? He’s pulling Stage 3 beings out of his closet like they’re cabbages. For all we know, we might already be worthless in his eyes."

His words settled over the room like a wet cloth, smothering even the faint crackle of the torches. No one immediately replied. The silence that followed was suffocating, the kind that pressed against the ribs and made breathing feel like effort.

They didn’t need to say it out loud—every single one of them knew the truth. The King of Eldros was hunting Stage 3 beings like a rabid beast, picking them off without mercy. And when his shadow finally fell across the Emerald Green Kingdom, none of them could be certain they’d live to see another dawn.

It was Kael who finally broke the stillness.

"I’m going to flee," he said, his voice low but steady, "and head to Dragon County in the north."

The statement landed like a thrown spear, sharp and sudden. Several faces turned toward him, their expressions shifting in surprise, disapproval, or outright alarm.

Felicia’s eyes trembled at his words.

She, too, had been nursing the same thought in silence—leaving this place, returning to the warm, familiar strength of the Great Sun Empire.

But she knew...

At this point, Darius rose from his seat, the legs of the chair scraping softly against the wooden floor. He straightened, his gaze locking onto Kael with a smile that looked pleasant at first glance—but the strain in his jaw and the heaviness in his eyes betrayed it for what it was.

"Why don’t you go alone?" he said, his voice low and weighted, each word deliberate. "We will not stop you. And I’m certain the Overlord himself will not stop you."

The shift in Kael’s expression was immediate—an involuntary flicker, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape notice.

Darius saw it, and inwardly, he sighed.

There was no going back. Not as long as that damn mosquito still drew breath.

Darius didn’t know what method that cursed mosquito had used to bind them all in invisible chains, but just thinking about it sent a dull ache pulsing through his skull.

As if that wasn’t enough, something else crept into his awareness—a familiar scent, faint but undeniable.

His instincts prickled.

A sudden chill slid down his spine, cold and precise, as though an unseen blade had traced along his back.

Without warning, the heavy gates of the room swung open on their own. The hinges didn’t creak—they moved with an unsettling smoothness, as if compelled by something that didn’t obey ordinary rules.

Through the opening stepped Demon Queen Noctyss.

She was draped in a graceful black gown that shimmered faintly in the torchlight, every fold flowing like liquid shadow. A small, knowing smirk curved her lips, but it was her eyes that held them—the way they lit up upon seeing Darius and the others, sharp and predatory, like a cat that had just cornered its prey.

"So... all of you are hiding here," she said lightly, her tone both amused and dangerous, "instead of watering Big Sister Dark Shadow’s plants?"

The proud Stage 3 beings stiffened as the words landed. Their expressions shifted at once, pride giving way to discomfort—perhaps even a flicker of shame.