Unholy Player Chapter 503 A Routine Patrol in Human Territory

Upon unzipping the bag, Cannibal peered at its contents. A grotesque, distorted grin spread across his mutated face, stretching from one ear to the other. His eyes, a shade of reddish-brown, flickered with an intense light as if he were staring at a mountain of gold.

The pack was packed with canned goods, various meats, and even sugary treats. The packaging remained spotless and undamaged, a jarring sight in this savage wasteland that sparked a painful longing for his former life.

Ever since he was cast into this hell, he had lived off insects. Frequently, he was forced to brawl with chickens just to secure a meager meal. Clean water was a luxury he lacked; he had to painstakingly gather individual droplets from the leaves of the Mother Tree, waiting for them to coalesce before licking them up or catching them in his palms. A bounty like this was sufficient to make him disregard every agony he had suffered. It was enough to suppress the lingering echoes of his lost freedom.

Urgency took hold of him as he ripped into a tin using his jagged but powerful fingernails. Using his grime-covered fingers, he shoved the food into his maw, tasting the divine flavors as if they were a gift from the heavens.

With every gulp, he failed to realize that his desire for liberty and his dreams for the future were eroding bit by bit. The allure of the promised gifts dominated his consciousness, accelerating his transformation into a loyal slave with every bite.

Once he pulled his awareness back from his Sanctuary, Adyr called forth his wings to take flight.

They manifested first as skeletal structures of ivory bone protruding from his shoulder blades. Soon, they were draped in plumage—one wing covered in snowy white feathers, the other in midnight black.

Following his evolution, the wings hadn't undergone a radical visual shift. They appeared slightly more expansive, feeling significantly more robust and resilient, as though the underlying framework beneath the feathers had been reinforced with steel-like strength.

A few relaxed, rhythmic strokes were all it took to lift him. His frame ascended rapidly into the blue, the wind filling his wings with effortless grace.

Just as he prepared to propel himself forward, a sharp intuition struck him. He sensed a gaze fixed upon his position.

This wasn't mere paranoia. It was a tangible weight pressing against the periphery of his consciousness.

Shifting his attention toward the source, he detected a tiny, metallic gray object hovering in the distance.

The distance was great, requiring him to narrow his eyes and focus intensely to distinguish it. Slowly, the silhouette became recognizable.

“The way they can monitor me without me even noticing,” Adyr remarked with a light laugh, sounding more entertained than annoyed. He identified the device for what it truly was: a drone of Human manufacture.

He felt no resentment; he viewed it as an inevitability. Although the details of his evolution were hazy, he was certain he must have triggered a massive disturbance.

Given the proximity to Human lands, it was expected that drones, or perhaps even STF or PTF squads, would be sent to scout the area.

His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when another object entered his field of vision.

This newcomer was far larger than a simple drone.

A hoverjet glided noiselessly out of the cloud cover, a dark metallic predator moving with the silence of a hunting falcon. It approached with a sense of disciplined intimidation rather than sheer velocity.

It decelerated as it drew near. Once it reached his position, it banked sideways in midair toward Adyr. The side hatch slid open with a rhythmic mechanical thud as the metal components locked into place.

When the entrance was fully cleared, a small contingent of soldiers clad in exoskeletons became visible. Heavy rifles were leveled at him, their barrels unwavering and fingers poised on triggers, ready to shred him the instant a command was barked.

Standing at the heart of this elite STF unit was a smaller, distinct figure.

She was dressed in a dark uniform, her crimson hair tied in a ponytail that whipped in the breeze. Her fiery red eyes locked onto Adyr with a mix of astonishment and a subtle scowl as she spoke.

“Adyr?” Dalin Ravencourt questioned, her voice tinged with doubt. She examined a silhouette that seemed familiar, yet the aura it projected was fundamentally altered, as if the shell remained the same while the essence had shifted.

Adyr gave a prompt reply. “Yeah, it’s me.” His gaze drifted over the troops and their gear. He instinctively assessed the tactical details: their spacing, their stances, and their state of alert.

The exoskeletons looked formidable—thick and reinforced at the vital points and joints. However, it was the heavy rifles that gave Adyr pause. He knew instinctively that the rounds those weapons fired would be lethally potent.

The moment the soldiers received confirmation that their "target" was actually their sovereign, the muzzles of their rifles dropped. Their postures snapped into a disciplined, formal salute.

“You look different,” Dalin noted. Her scowl faded, though her shock remained as the truth dawned on her. “Did you rank up? To Rank 4?”

Having only recently attained Rank 3 herself, she had hoped she was finally closing the distance between them. The realization that he had already ascended to Rank 4 made her self-assurance falter; it felt as though the chasm between their power had widened once again.

“Yes,” Adyr said simply. With a beat of his wings, he stepped into the interior of the hoverjet, acting as though the rifles had never been aimed at his chest.

“How?” Dalin asked, her mind struggling to process the fact. She watched him intently as he retracted his wings and took a seat in the cramped cabin. A unique, potent fragrance accompanied him, filling the air and masking the smell of sweat, oil, and fuel, leaving her feeling even more conflicted.

For someone like her, elevating a single talent to Level 4 had been an ordeal of immense difficulty, requiring endless, grueling days in VR chambers.

The reality that Adyr already commanded a Level 5 talent made her wonder about her own shortcomings. What was she missing? What secret had he uncovered?

Adyr offered no explanation. He couldn't exactly reveal that his meteoric rise was due to the deep Foundation built in a previous life. Instead, he smoothly pivoted the conversation.

“Were you out on patrol?”

Dalin caught the deflection, but she decided not to push the issue. “We were scouting for the lair of a Rank 3 Spark that dwells beneath the surface.”

She peered out through the hoverjet’s open hatch at the massive, unnatural void in the forest below. “We redirected here after seeing that a forest which stood yesterday has vanished into thin air.”

She turned her eyes back to him. “So, you were the cause of this after all.”

It was evident from her tone that they hadn't seen the gates manifest during his evolution. They had merely arrived to investigate the sudden erasure of the woodland.

Adyr’s own memory of the event was a blur. He could only recall ghostly images of those gates, and while he wanted to ask for details, it was clear they had no information to provide. Thus, he simply remarked, “Yeah. Sorry for worrying you.”

He then requested, “Can you drop me off at headquarters?”

He had matters to settle with Henry. Furthermore, he needed to check on the progress of the Lunari Practitioners; since he was already aboard the hoverjet, he figured he might as well take the ride.