Spark maintained his distance and the state of his stealth. His sharp hearing could catch the conversation even further away.
The two factions from World Tree Association were still arguing. Their debate was long. Filled with fervent arguments and harsh rebuttals.
"We can't just leave like that, Grandma Meadow!" The young woman said. "They will assume the Association is weak. And, they take many of our people. They had to pay the price."
"And how do we make them pay the price?" The old woman argued. "They were more numerous. And they were not weaker than us? We'll take revenge next time. Not now."
The argument didn't seem to convince the young woman. Or many other younger people in the camp. They kept trying to convince the old woman to lead them to strike back.
Grandma Meadow insisted with her pragmatism. They needed to leave. For the greater good. For conserving their precious few resources. For their continued survival. And for raising hell in a different part of the world in the future.
The other members of the camp muttered. Some were siding with the youth. Others nodding grimly with the aged leading woman. The argument remained inconclusive. A stalemate born of conflicting ideologies.
Spark observed from his hiding place. A silent, predatory specter in the shadows. He had taken out and activated his [Appraisal Goggles]. Acquiring the data of everyone in the camp. Directly through his enhanced sights.
The old leader, Grandma Meadow, was the strongest among them. Significantly stronger. She was a Sanctified Soulcraft Sorcerer. A Tier-5 Powerhouse. The others were just between Tier-1 to Tier-3. None was in Tier-4.
The one that attracted his attention was the beautiful young woman who argued against the old leader...
=====STATUS PANEL=====
[Name: Vienna Green (Lady Forest)]
[Gender: Female]
[Age: 22]
[Class: Engineer]
[Level: Fortified (3rd Tier)]
[Loyalty: 0%]
[Soul Power: Awakened Level (1st Tier)]
[Mind Power: Fortified Level (3rd Tier)]
[Body Power: Awakened Level (1st Tier)]
[Innate Talents: Sylvan Mind]
[Bestowed Talents: -]
[Personalities: Fanatic, Ruthless]
[Personalities: Stubborn, Reckless]
[Modifier Currency: Jade Fruits]
[Minor Path: Farmcraft]
...
She was Spark's target. The problem was just how to get her. She was surrounded by her comrades. And there was the old leader...
Spark was sure he could defeat the old woman. But that would be in the case of one by one combat. Which would never happen in this case. Should he summoned his women? Spark hesitated.
But...
Suddenly Spark froze. His senses perceived movements. A large number of movements. Moving towards the World Tree Association's campsite. Their reinforcements? Or, their enemies?
The debate was still ongoing. Growing more heated. But then... a sudden, jarring sound ripped through the quiet night.
Rustling in the underbrush. The snap of twigs. The heavy rhythmic thud of large bodies moving with purpose. Those were definitely not reinforcements.
"Ambush!" A lookout shouted. His voice was cut short. Abruptly.
Before the World Tree Association members could react fully, a wave of hulking figures burst from the tree line. Special force soldiers from the Mammotheon Empire.
Their forms were grotesque. Yet powerful. These were Framepath Warriors. All of them were in their transformation state. A uniformed were-elephant transformations.
Thick, leathery hides. Short, bristly fur. Long, flexible trunk. Wide, flappy ears. Blunt, powerful tusks protruding from their jaws. Armored humanoid body holding sledgehammers.
Most of them were Tier-2 and Tier-3. Their charge was accompanied by guttural roars. And the heavy thump of their transformed feet.
Two particularly massive figures surged ahead of the main force. Tier-4 Framepath Warriors. Their tusks were gleaming in the faint moonlight. Charging straight for Grandma Meadow. She was their primary target. The highest threat.
The battle had begun. And Spark remained a silent, unseen observer. Calculating his opportune moment to strike. To acquire his new asset.
The Mammotheon Empire's special forces moved with brutal efficiency. Their were-elephant transformations granted them immense strength and resilience. They crashed into the World Tree Association's camp. These were not like mere soldiers. They were living siege engines.
The Association members were mostly caught unprepared. Their defenses were rudimentary. An improvised retaliation that didn't give much damage.
The fight was a brutal, one-sided affair in the general melee. The Mammotheon force was larger in numbers. Better equipped. And physically superior. Their attacks were direct, powerful strikes from sledgehammers wielded in massive, armored hands.
World Tree Association members, despite their zeal, fell quickly. Bones snapped. Bodies were thrown. The camp became a scene of chaotic destruction. The eco-terrorists were scattered. Some were attempting to fight. Others were desperately seeking escape.
Yet, at the heart of the chaos, the battle of the leaders told a different story.
Grandma Meadow, an ancient, gnarled woman, stood her ground against the two Tier-4 were-elephant commanders. Her small frame seemed insignificant against their hulking mass. But her power was not one to be ignored.
Roots erupted from the earth around her. Thick as pythons. Lashing out with surprising speed.
They coiled around the legs of the first elephant-man. Attempting to trip him. He roared. Straining against the sudden bonds.
The second charged. Tusks were gleaming. But a wall of dense, interwoven branches rose from the ground to intercept him. He slammed into it. The impact was shaking the earth. But the barrier held.
Grandma Meadow's hands moved. Not in grand gestures. But with precise, almost delicate movements. Fungal spores billowed from her palms. Luminous and sickly green. Forming a suffocating cloud.
The first were-elephant coughed. His trunk was flailing in distress. His eyes, normally red with combat fury, watered. He stumbled back. Momentarily disoriented.
The second was still struggling with the root barrier. He grunted in frustration. He stamped his foot. Cracking the earth beneath him.
Then, a thunderous roar ripped through the chaos. Grandma Meadow's voice, amplified by nature's magic, echoed across the shattered camp.
"Disperse! Retreat! Regroup at the appointed beacons!"
The command spurred the remaining World Tree Association members into action. They understood. This fight was lost.
A few pulled out smoke bombs. Hurling them to the ground. Thick, acrid plumes erupted, providing cover.
Others, more desperate, uncorked forbidden potions. Their forms were either bulging into monstrous forms. Blurring into impossible speeds. Or melting into the shadows.
A few precious teleportation scrolls shimmered into use. Whisking individuals away in flashes of light.
Spark watched, a silent, predatory shadow. His draconic werelion form made him almost invisible in the low light. His [Supernatural Stealth] was dissolving his presence into the rustling leaves.
He had his eyes on the target. Lady Forest. She was quick. As the retreat order rang out, Lady Forest activated a smoke bomb. A puff of dense, dark smoke erupted around her. Much thicker and more concealing than the common smoke bombs.
When it cleared, she was gone. Leaving only a faint scent of citrus.
Spark was already moving. Following her vanishing aura through the undergrowth.
But, he was not alone. A heavy, rhythmic thudding sounded to his left. Closing fast. Another shadow, large one, was also on Lady Forest's trail. It was a Mammotheon special force officer.
Lady Forest moved like a phantom through the dense forest. Her breathing ragged. Her movements becoming less fluid. She had pushed herself hard.
After nearly half an hour of relentless flight, she believed she had outdistanced her pursuers. She slowed down. Leaning against the rough bark of an ancient oak.
Her chest was heaving. Her hand went to a small pouch at her belt. Likely reaching for a restorative potion. Or perhaps another escape item. Her guard was down. She was exhausted.
The special force officer was a relentless hunter. He saw his chance. He had been gaining on her. His heavy steps were surprisingly quiet for a creature of his size.
He burst from the shadows behind her. A blur of grey hide and polished steel. The head of his massive sledgehammer went for her head. A swift, brutal strike intended to kill.
But time was stopped. Spark moved before the officer's claw could connect. Even before Lady Forest registered the danger. He had activated crestmagic spell, [Devil Contract (Time Stop)].
The world around him froze. The rustling leaves hung motionless. The officer's war hammer was very close to Lady Forest's head. It had become a statue of impending doom.
Lady Forest's strained breath hung in the air. A visible mist. The silence was absolute. But Spark only had three seconds. That was all he had. Three precious, frozen seconds.
Spark didn't waste a nanosecond. He was already close. His Draconic Werelion form coiled and ready. His massive hand moved with surgical precision.
He lunged. A pair of silent, controlled strike. Targeting the back of the neck of both the officer and Lady Forest. A tap. At a pressure point.
The three seconds elapsed. Time snapped back into motion. The sounds of the forest returned. The officer collapsed mid swing. Lady Forest also slumped. Unconscious.
Spark didn't hesitate. He pulled his Slave Grimoire and absorbed the unconscious Lady Forest into it. Her form shimmered. Dissolving into motes of light that flowed into grimoire's pages.
A moment later, she was gone. Secured within his personal dimension. He just needed to modify her... later.