Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 55: Freshly Vestiges

Dylan shivered, every fiber of his being tensing at the last word Elisa had spoken.

She had curled up, arms wrapped around her legs, like she was waiting for judgment... or blame.

But none came.

Not from Dylan.

Not from Maggie.

They just stood there, frozen, stunned, chewing on the implications. Every word the young elf had uttered was like a needle jabbed into their throats.

"I wanted us to come here to prepare... for the crossing of the Cemetery of Heroes and the Mountains," Elisa continued, breaking the silence with a trembling voice. "Those places are already classified as red zones, but I thought if you became strong enough, you could avoid them... not face them."

Her golden eyes shimmered faintly in the light filtering from the entrance, like lanterns on the verge of going out.

Maggie leaned against the stone wall. She looked up at the cracked ceiling and let out a long sigh.

"I was the one who suggested spending the night here," she said with a shrug. "And honestly, we couldn’t have found a better shelter. It was a good call. Even if we ended up in a red zone... it was bound to happen. Might as well deal with it now."

Dylan looked at her, surprised by her almost chilling calm. "As expected from the Commander," he thought with a mix of admiration and annoyance. "This situation doesn’t scare her at all."

But what came next caught him off guard.

"So what do we do then?" Elisa asked, eyes locked on Maggie.

Dylan flinched. That question rubbed him the wrong way. It sounded like a bomb dropped between two suicidal options.

"What do you mean, what do we do?" Maggie replied, raising an eyebrow.

Elisa seemed hesitant. Her gaze lowered.

"We might be surrounded by third-rank creatures... and only you are even close to first-rank level. I just want to know: do we keep going... or do we run?"

Dylan felt the tension spike. He bit his tongue to keep from jumping in.

"Run? Run where exactly?" he thought.

"And how?"

"We came here risking our necks... and now we’re just gonna turn back?

But going forward might be even worse..."

He couldn’t choose. And apparently, Maggie didn’t have that problem.

"We stick to the plan, right?" she answered, stoic. "If it’s just third-rank demonic beasts, great. The hunt will be good."

Dylan turned to her, incredulous.

"Did you not hear Elisa? These are third-rank creatures, Maggie!" he snapped, his voice louder than intended. "I hope your new power hasn’t gone to your head! Do you remember how hard it was to kill just one juvenile orc?!"

She looked at him, steady, emotionless.

"I know, Dylan. But I’d rather die fighting them... than rot in silence waiting for death."

He clenched his fists. His teeth ground together.

She had a point.

He had nothing to say.

Nothing that could top that.

Nothing that felt true enough.

"Who does she think she is?

The Ruined Star?"

That forgotten nickname of a legendary heroine—an icon of determination, and the pinnacle of madness.

Maggie remained still. No emotion crossed her face, except that cold determination that sometimes made her terrifying.

She slowly turned to face them.

"You have another strategy?" she asked, calm, poised... almost resigned.

Dylan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Elisa looked down. Maybe still searching for a counterargument, an escape, or some kind of miracle.

But nothing came.

Nothing, except that heavy silence, thick and unshakable.

It weighed in the air like a slab of stone, frozen in the cave like the corpses they hadn’t yet had the luxury of joining.

Finally, Maggie nodded.

She tightened her grip on her axe. Her gaze had hardened. No more room for doubts.

"Then we stick to the plan," she declared, her tone final.

"We go hunt... third-ranks."

She stepped toward the light of the exit, her boots scraping the stone, her shadow stretching behind her like that of a hungry predator.

Dylan watched her, torn between awe, rage, and fear.

Elisa didn’t move. Not yet. But her fingers slowly tightened around her daggers.

"Dylan... has she always been this crazy?" she whispered to the young lieutenant.

Dylan let out a short, nervous laugh and replied:

"Funny... I was about to say the same about you."

---

Following Dylan’s words, his back was gently hammered with small, feminine punches.

He stifled a laugh and followed Maggie’s lead.

When they stepped out of the cave, the sun was already high. Too high. Their footprints from earlier, left in the mud, had started to dry.

But that wasn’t what caught Dylan’s attention.

In front of them, planted in the still-damp earth, a titanic footprint was etched into the ground.

Wide. Deep.

Comparable to an adult elephant’s... but with humanoid toes.

He leaned closer. The mark was still fresh. It pointed straight toward the forest.

If they followed it, they might cross its path.

That damn orc from this morning.

But one question twisted in his mind, sudden and sharp:

What was that thing doing here, right outside their cave... so early in the morning?

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

The smell hit them like a warm slap to the face.

"Of all the places in this damn forest..." Elisa groaned, pinching her nose. She jumped back. "He had to take a dump here? Seriously?"

Dylan winced, did the same, and pinched his nose too.

"I didn’t think those things... did that," he admitted sheepishly.

Elisa shot him a deadly look.

"You’ve seen them talk, eat, fuck... and you didn’t think they shit too? Are you serious?"

"Uh... I just never thought about it, okay?" he tried to defend himself.

"Well, now you will," she snapped, backing away more. "And judging by the size, they do it very big."

Dylan turned away and picked up his pace, but the young elf was right on his heels, clearly amused.

"What, you shy now?" she teased, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

"No, I’m just trying to survive the smell, that’s all," he grumbled, waving his hand in front of his face like that would actually help.

Elisa stepped closer, too entertained to stop.

"Aw, it’s cute, this little modesty of yours. Want a scented handkerchief too? Or are you afraid it’ll stick to your pretty-boy image?"

"I’ll stick you in the next mud puddle if you keep going," he muttered, unable to hide the grin creeping onto his face.

Ahead, Maggie had stopped. She was kneeling in the dried mud, studying the prints with narrowed eyes.

No words exchanged.

Just that tension again—dry, taut as a bowstring.

When Dylan and Elisa caught up to her, she rose slowly.

"This is fresh. Less than two hours old. He was here. And he wasn’t alone."

She pointed to other tracks, smaller, but just as strange.

Elisa crouched beside them. "Wait... that’s not an orc print. These have claws. And they were running."

Dylan felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"He had other beasts with him?"

Maggie nodded. Her gaze wandered off into the trees.

"Or he was chasing them."