Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 69: Starting Back Up

The next morning at dawn, the trio was already on the move.

They knew they couldn’t stay holed up in that cave forever — it was time to get going again.

And the fact that they were being tracked didn’t help either. Better to keep moving than stay in one place.

The day before, they’d taken the time to absorb their anima gems, reinforcing their spiritual essence cores. Even Élisa had formed hers.

Now, all three were more or less at the same level of awakening.

All that remained was to awaken their stigmas to reach full awakening.

Before leaving, they’d treated themselves to a feast worthy of the name — roasted demon-tyrannosaurus meat.

Élisa, ever the pragmatist, had suggested pulling out the beasts’ teeth to sell them later in Martissant. A bit of pocket change never hurts.

Their progress was fast — much faster than they’d anticipated.

Now that all three were strengthened, they no longer felt like they were dragging each other behind.

Each moved at their own pace... which, ultimately, had synchronized naturally.

Élisa was positively radiant.

Since reaching the second stage of awakening, she just couldn’t sit still.

A cocktail of excitement, pride, and that teasing spark that made her borderline unbearable.

Since the day before, she’d been constantly teasing Dylan. Non-stop.

And Dylan, stoic as ever, just took it.

Someone had to be the punching bag. And clearly, Maggie wasn’t the type to tolerate being the butt of a joke — even a lighthearted one.

So Dylan played the part of the affectionate punching bag.

Resigned, mildly annoyed... and maybe, deep down, a bit amused.

"You should smile more often, Dylan. You’d almost look human," Élisa said, far too cheerful for a dawn march.

He didn’t answer right away. After a beat, he raised an eyebrow without turning back.

"And you should talk less. Might help you avoid saying crap."

Élisa burst out laughing, genuinely amused.

Maggie didn’t say a word, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Rare enough to be noticed.

They were moving through a wooded area, the trees spaced out, bathed in soft, golden light.

The ground, still damp from yesterday’s rains, carried the fresh scent of moss and earth.

"A beautiful morning to not die," Dylan thought, irony lodged in his throat.

He glanced sideways at Élisa now and then. Since forming her core, she gave off a new kind of energy. Less raw than Maggie’s, but sharper. Like a freshly sharpened blade.

And she knew it. She made sure everyone else knew too — in every step, every gesture.

She was testing boundaries. Trying to assert herself. Maybe to prove something.

But it wasn’t arrogance.

It was a kind of dance. A soft provocation. A game of glances and half-spoken words.

And Dylan, despite himself, played along.

He let her.

Because it was easier than stopping her.

And because, deep down... it felt good.

The morning ignited slowly, sunlight pouring over the world like an overflowing river.

The light filtered through the foliage, casting shifting gold patterns into the dark belly of the forest.

Dylan, trailing behind the others, raised a hand to shield his eyes, squinting into the sudden brightness.

He stayed alert, hand near his weapon, like every snapping twig might signal the start of another nightmare.

The forest had been quiet the day before. Too quiet.

But he knew: this calm was just a ceasefire.

And today, it would release its abominations — the ones it had been digesting silently, deep in its green guts.

He had to stay sharp.

Even if... a small voice inside him — muffled, stubborn — was secretly hoping for it.

Not that he wanted to be attacked. Not really.

But part of him expected it. Like it was inevitable in a world like this.

And to be honest... some twisted, reckless part of him wanted it.

Because even after staring horror in the face, even after breathing death on the battlefield, Dylan was still a 21-year-old guy.

With all the messed-up dreams and raw impatience that come with it.

And when he glanced at Élisa, he saw it — she felt the same.

She was like a volcano under the skin.

Her whole body hummed like a drawn bowstring, fingers dancing absentmindedly on the hilt of her dagger, golden eyes scanning the woods with hunger.

She was older, more experienced. But right now, she looked... thrilled.

She didn’t hide it. She lived every second to the fullest.

Like adrenaline was her native language.

And yeah, she was clearly vibing with the same buzz as him.

The group was now heading toward the Heroes’ Cemetery.

Not exactly a comforting destination, despite the poetic name — especially not in a red zone like this one.

The trip would take them a good day. Maybe two... if nothing went wrong.

But "nothing wrong" was just a hollow phrase here. An illusion.

In these woods, everything that breathed wanted to eat you, poison you, or use your guts as playthings. Sometimes all three.

That’s why they’d set out before sunrise.

The idea was simple: outrun the monsters.

Cross their hunting grounds before they noticed.

It was Maggie’s idea — Élisa backed it without hesitation. And Dylan... well, he followed.

Not because he lacked initiative, but because those two, sometimes, shared one terrifyingly efficient brain.

When Maggie and Élisa agreed on something, it was either genius-level strategy... or complete madness that somehow worked.

Dylan kept his guard up. Not just for the monsters — for his two teammates too.

He knew one of them thought like a born tactician, and the other had the instincts of a predator in heat.

Together, they could wipe out an army. Or trap one in silence and shadows.

"Women to be feared," he thought, trailing behind his commander.

No irony. Just weary lucidity.

The march continued, stretching through gnarled trunks, dark ferns, and the nervous clicks of insects.

Every step felt heavier. Not from exhaustion, but from something else... that creeping sense that something was waiting.

And then — no more trees. Not even ground.

They stumbled out into a space so sudden, so unreal, it almost knocked the breath out of them.

Ahead, the earth just... ended.

Not gradually. Not with a slope.

It stopped dead — a cliff, sharp and gaping, sliced into the world like by a divine blade.

And there, stretching endlessly, the chasm opened before them.

A chasm drowned in a sea of clouds too thick to see the bottom.

A wall of cottony mist, shivering constantly — like the sky itself was collapsing into it.

At the center, a waterfall. But not like the ones you see in books.

This one fell endlessly, so deep they couldn’t even hear its impact.

Just a faint ripple... timid... almost imaginary.

As if the fall caressed the earth instead of smashing into it.

The sun pierced the clouds from behind, casting golden halos along the cliff’s edge.

It was bright. Almost divine. But no one smiled. freeweɓnøvel.com

No one spoke.

It was too vast. Too silent.

A natural sanctuary no map could hold.

A place that whispered: "Stop. Look. You are nothing."

Dylan felt his breath hitch.

His blood boiled at the sheer weight of the sight.

"And to think this... is just the leftover scar of a battle between high-ranking creatures."