"Hmph… these outsiders know how to run."
Roughly thirty seconds after Sombravida's departure, more than a dozen high-level Hollows gathered in the clearing where he had been seated moments before. Splintered wood fragments lay scattered across the ground — all that remained of his improvised command seat.
Several of the Hollows bore fresh injuries: missing limbs, shattered horns, torn wings.
Sombravida's work.
"We cannot let them escape!" an alien-shaped Hollow snarled.
"No need," a wolf-like Hollow lowered its snout, sniffing the air. "They fled north. His reiatsu trail is still fresh."
A chorus of snarls answered.
"Then pursue!"
They surged forward.
The Waiting Ground
Within half an hour, they reached a northern clearing.
Sombravida stood alone at its center.
He had stopped ten minutes earlier — deliberately.
"Haah…" Sombravida stretched lazily. "You're slower than I expected."
"You butcher!" growled a humanoid Hollow missing an arm. "Today you die!"
Sombravida's voice cooled.
"You're already crippled. Why waste breath?"
The leader stepped forward, rage distorting its mask.
"You slaughtered our kin and dare mock us? Begging will not save you!"
Sombravida smiled faintly.
"You misunderstand. I did not retreat to escape."
His reiatsu surged outward, pressing against the clearing like a crushing tide.
"I retreated to bring you here… to die."
Even the elite Hollows felt instinctive fear ripple through their instincts.
"Lies!" another high-level Hollow roared, struggling against the pressure. "Even if your allies lurk nearby, they cannot save you!"
"Attack!"
The Charge
Hundreds of elite Hollows surged forward, driven by rage and fear alike.
A low-pressure Hollow screamed for the assault to begin — desperate to escape Sombravida's suffocating reiatsu.
The clearing shook with the thunder of advancing bodies.
Sombravida raised his right claw.
Spiritual pressure condensed along its edges.
He struck the ground beside him.
Phase Three: Flying Spike Kill Zone
WHOOSH — WHOOSH — WHOOSH
The surrounding forest exploded with motion.
Thousands of sharpened stone and bone spikes launched from hidden mechanisms concealed in the towering trees.
This clearing had been chosen weeks earlier:
tall canopy for concealment
open center to lure charges
natural elevation for projectile trajectories
The air filled with screaming metal-like whistles.
Then came the impact.
Bodies were impaled mid-stride.
Wings shredded.
Armor plates pierced.
The tranquil clearing transformed instantly into a killing ground.
Tactical Purpose
The first trap wave removed the weak.
The second shattered formations.
The third eliminated survivors.
Only the fastest, toughest, or strongest Hollows endured.
And those were the enemies Sombravida intended to fight.
Within moments, the elite and lesser Hollows were nearly annihilated.
The remaining high-level Hollows froze.
Hundreds had attacked eight.
And they had been erased.
Fear seeped into their reiatsu.
Should they continue?
Should they flee?
Sombravida spoke.
"Leave none alive."
Execution
Seven figures dropped from the trees.
Sombravida's subordinates encircled the survivors.
Sombravida released his reiatsu fully — a pressure approaching Menos-class density.
Despair filled the remaining Hollows.
This was not battle.
This was extermination.
The fight ended swiftly.
Sombravida's forces suffered only minor injuries.
The enemy force was annihilated.
Dominion Established
From that moment forward, Sombravida's supremacy within the forest was unquestioned.
Intelligent Hollows withdrew to safer territories.
Others chose silence and distance.
Mindless ones drifted, awaiting their turn in the cycle.
Hueco Mundo's law remained unchanged:
hunt — or be hunted.
Battlefield Accounting
Inora approached after the cleanup.
"My lord. Twenty high-level Hollow corpses recovered. One hundred eighty-four elite corpses. Lesser remains unrecoverable. Approximately thirty percent of the forest's population eliminated."
Sombravida nodded.
"Consume them before they disperse."
He turned to Lephas.
"Follow the previous directive. Prioritize high-level remains. If you feel evolution pressure rising, stop immediately and proceed to the pit."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The deep shaft Chloe had excavated was not a trap.
It was an evolution chamber.
If a new Gillian lost reason, the pit's escape tunnel would direct it away from the group — preventing catastrophic Cero discharge within their ranks.
Feeding for Ascension
Lephas left five high-level masks for Sombravida.
He consumed the rest.
When that proved insufficient, he devoured elite remains.
After the eighty-second corpse, his reiatsu surged violently.
Sombravida recognized the signs instantly.
Evolution pressure.
"Your Majesty…" Lephas sought confirmation.
"Go."
Sombravida led the others to the evolution pit.
Lephas descended.
Sombravida tossed him two reserved masks.
"Consume. Then wait."
The Hollows concealed themselves among the trees.
They waited.
Evolution
Lephas's reiatsu spiraled outward.
Spiritual particles gathered.
A vortex formed around his expanding body.
His form grew as the cocoon thickened — a swirling shell of reishi and instinct.
Hours passed.
Then came the sound.
The hollowing roar of a Menos.
The cocoon ruptured.
A massive black silhouette rose from the pit.
A towering Gillian.
Its mask bore the long nose and blank grin of mindless Menos.
Sombravida exhaled softly.
"Consciousness… lost."
Sentient Gillians were rare.
Exceptionally rare.
He had expected this.
"Retreat."
Because the Gillian remained within the pit, it could not yet detect them.
They withdrew into the trees.
Respect for Sombravida deepened among the Hollows.
Even in failure, advancement meant survival.
In Hueco Mundo, that alone was victory.
Departure of the Gillian
Hours later, the Gillian's mournful cry faded into the distance.
It had begun its instinctive march toward the Forest of Menos.
Plenty of prey still roamed the region.
And Hollows drawn by battle would continue to arrive.
Sombravida turned back to his followers.
"Lephas is gone."
He surveyed the remaining corpses.
"Divide the spoils. Then prepare the next trap network."
His voice sharpened.
"Time is our enemy. We accelerate from here."
Seven voices answered in unison.
"Yes, my King."