Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 85: First Victim

The machete split in Dylan’s hands felt like it had lost some of its weight. He could already see his prey torn to shreds, as if some force buried deep within him was urging him to end the beast’s life. A simple urge. Primal.

The adrenaline surged. And so did his strength.

He didn’t need to draw much from his core of spiritual essence—his body was doing the boosting on its own. His muscles tensed with an intensity he had never known. His steps ripped through the grass, and each stride propelled him faster toward his target.

He charged. And yet, his face stayed blank. Cold. Calculating.

Just before impact, Maggie reentered the beast’s line of sight.

The elk’s massive eyes locked onto her—its mistake.

She planted her feet in the ground, twisted her hips, and raised her axe with both hands. In a silent scream, she let her entire weight crash down on the creature. The blade bit deep into flesh, slicing through coarse fur and knotted tissue with a wet snap.

A wide gash opened along the elk’s flank.

The beast bellowed—a deep, guttural cry that echoed across the cemetery. Driven by pain, it pushed up onto its hind legs, its massive body rising until it nearly doubled in height.

It rose like a living mountain, then slammed its hooves down toward Maggie.

She reacted in time. She staggered, sprang backward on her toes, narrowly escaping death. The impact struck the ground where she had stood a heartbeat earlier, cracking it wide open.

But Dylan was already there.

He lunged into the shadow of the colossus, leapt, and grabbed one of the beast’s antlers with both hands. He felt the rough wood scorch his palms, but he didn’t care. He pushed with all his weight, dug his heels into the dirt, and pulled.

The creature’s neck twisted under the force. Its head was torn from its natural axis, its legs slipped, throwing it off balance.

And that was all Maggie needed.

Freed from the shock, she launched forward again, axe raised, and struck.

This time, she aimed for the neck.

The neck was long, twisted from Dylan’s brutal pull. An opening. Unstable. Slipping. But real.

Maggie knew she had only one shot. Dylan wouldn’t last much longer—he was already forcing past his limits, his arms trembling, his footing slipping on the blood-soaked dirt.

So she jumped.

The axe rose high into the air, catching the pale glint of daylight filtered through the mist. And she brought it down with her. In a silent cry, Maggie let all her weight, her rage, her fear, her authority, her wound—everything—fall into that single blow.

The blade tore through fur, then flesh, then bone.

A dull, deep sound. Like something ancient breaking.

She didn’t stop until there was nothing left to cut.

The beast’s head separated with a wheezing hiss, as if the air itself refused to leave the lungs of a body that didn’t yet know it was dead.

The force of the impact sent Dylan crashing to the ground. He rolled to the side, still clutching the beast’s head, eyes blank, tongue dangling, his hand still gripping the antler like he’d forgotten to let go.

And then, finally, came silence.

A total silence. No cries. No wind. No movement.

The beast’s massive body collapsed with a wet thud, raising a cloud of black dust and torn-up earth. The ground vibrated beneath their feet, as if registering the end of something greater.

Maggie straightened slowly, breathing hard, her axe sticky with blood. She was limping. But still standing.

Élisa appeared from behind a boulder, breathless, her two daggers bloody in hand. She said nothing. For now, she just watched the scene, muscles tight, ready to jump in if needed.

But there was nothing left to kill.

Dylan remained on the ground a few seconds longer. His fingers slowly uncurled. At last, he let go of the severed head, which rolled a short distance and came to a stop between two stones.

He didn’t feel like talking.

He just wanted... to breathe. To feel his heart beat. To make sure he was still there. That the voice deep inside him hadn’t taken over.

At least, not yet.

Maggie stepped toward the still-warm corpse, her breath still ragged. The beast’s massive body lay on its side, shaking with residual spasms. Blood still pulsed weakly from the place where the neck had been severed, pouring in thick sheets onto the dusty ground.

Without a word, she grabbed one of the rear legs and pulled it toward her. The muscles were hard, tense, and the weight was immense. She gritted her teeth, raised her axe, and struck.

Once.

Twice.

The third blow finally severed the tendons. A dull crack echoed, and the limb gave way, partially detached from the thigh. Maggie straightened with a grunt, arms outstretched, breath ragged.

Dylan rose too, still a bit dazed but already moving. He circled the corpse, planted his foot on the beast’s thick torso to gain leverage, and struck as well. His machete sank into the flesh, struggling through the dense muscle fibers.

"I like your mindset," Élisa said, stepping closer, a faint smile in her voice. "This forest is really shaping you up."

She hadn’t come to help butcher the kill. She walked past the two of them, kneeled beside the beast’s belly without hesitation. Without blinking, she stabbed a dagger deep into the abdomen, all the way to the hilt.

Then, with clinical precision, she cut downward.

The skin split, the flesh opened into two bloody flaps, and the entrails began to spill out onto the ground with a wet squelch. The stench was strong, suffocating.

But it didn’t bother her.

She plunged her hand inside, searching calmly and precisely, ignoring the heat, the slimy textures, the blood climbing up to her elbow.

And finally, she found it.

Her fingers closed around something hard, pulsing, smooth like glass and warm like a living heart. She slowly pulled it from the body.

An anima gem. Pure. Dark. Vibrant.

A fragment of crystallized essence, still charged with the beast’s vital memory. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

She held it for a few seconds in her palm, studying it. Then she turned to Dylan and offered it to him.

"Now that we’ve got the stone... and something to eat," she said, wiping her arm on her torn pants, "let’s head back to our hideout."