Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 98: No Less Lethal than Blades

The tracker didn’t back down. On the contrary—he faced them head-on.

His breath whistled through his curved fangs, and his carapace gleamed under the mist like a slick, armored shell. He wasn’t injured enough to flee, but he was hurt enough to be dangerous.

Maggie charged at him—without her axe—but her body spoke for her. And it was no less lethal than blades.

Her fists clenched, her muscles coiled. She dodged the first tail strike, dropped low, rolled to the side, then struck the underside of the monster’s jaw with the flat of her palm.

The impact cracked like a blow against stone.

Her punch wasn’t strong enough to break it. But strong enough to throw it off balance.

That’s when Élisa jumped back into the fight. Despite the pain in her shoulder, she leapt onto the creature’s back and drove one of her daggers into a joint. A metallic scream ripped through the monster’s throat, raspy and distorted.

It reared back instantly.

And this time, Dylan lunged forward.

He aimed for the opening Élisa had created and, in one fluid motion, plunged his machete to the hilt into the soft flesh just beneath it.

The tracker’s scream was muffled, twisted by pain.

It thrashed. Pushed off a shattered slab. Tried to leap clumsily away.

But Maggie caught one of its front limbs and yanked it back down with brutal force.

The impact echoed like a sack of meat dropped from a great height.

It didn’t have time to get up.

Maggie knelt down, one knee crushing its chest, pinning it. She grabbed a dagger from the ground.

She aimed between the eyes.

But she didn’t need to be precise. It didn’t matter where the blade landed—the result would be the same.

So she struck.

The dagger sank into its skull with a wet crunch.

The tracker twitched one last time... then went still with a final breath.

Silence fell, heavy with tension and the trio’s ragged breaths.

Dylan stayed crouched, arms trembling, his face covered in sweat—and someone else’s dark blood.

Élisa, panting, collapsed onto her side, her arm already numb.

Maggie stayed standing. She straightened slowly, picked up her axe from where it had fallen, and strapped it back on her back.

"He made us lose too much time," she said simply.

No one answered.

Who could’ve, anyway?

Maggie was right. The real fight hadn’t even begun yet. That was just a warm-up.

They didn’t have the luxury of exhaustion. Not now.

The awakened creature—the one they’d chosen to face—was waiting for them out there... somewhere in the fog.

And unlike this one, it wouldn’t make any mistakes.

⸻

They hadn’t even taken time to eat.

Not because they forgot. More like a choice.

They had preferred to absorb the essence of the gems recovered from the tracker—just enough to heal a bit, regain some strength—then get back to work. The strategy for approaching the third-rank awakened beast had to be laid out, clear, and ready to shift into disaster-mode.

It wasn’t that they weren’t hungry. Far from it.

But fear, anticipation, and that electric tension that hadn’t left their guts... it weighed heavier than an empty stomach.

And Maggie had been clear.

"I don’t want this to be my last meal."

She’d dropped the line flatly, without looking up, while wiping her blade clean of tracker blood. Her tone had left no room for argument.

And the others hadn’t challenged her.

Not just out of respect—though she commanded more than most. She had that kind of presence that was hard to ignore, and her words carried more weight than they realized, even as they followed them.

So they stayed quiet.

They kept their rations in their packs. Settled for the bland taste of the gems, their artificial warmth running through their veins like a substitute for real life.

And they went back to the plan. Eyes fixed eastward.

Toward the battle ahead.

⸻

They’d taken shelter under the hollow trunk of a long-dead tree, just a few meters from the last visible landmark before the mist became too thick again. Silence hung heavy, broken only by the rustling of dry leaves under their boots or the clinking of weapons being checked one last time.

Maggie sharpened her axe with slow, mechanical movements. Her gaze stayed fixed straight ahead, where the silhouette of the third-rank awakened beast could barely be made out through the gray morning veil.

Then she spoke, bluntly, in her raspy voice.

"You don’t have to come."

The words left a silence behind them.

She finally looked up, eyes locking with Dylan’s, then Élisa’s.

"I’m serious. That thing... it’s nothing like what we’ve faced so far. Even if we’re stronger now, we’d barely stand a chance against another awakened second-rank diablotin. So imagine a third-rank."

She paused. The tension in her jaw said everything her words didn’t.

"If you come, you might not make it back."

Dylan, sitting cross-legged, didn’t answer right away. He held his machete across his knees, thumbs resting on the edge, lost in thought.

Élisa, next to him, was wrapping a bandage around her injured arm, her lips tight, eyes down, focused on the wound.

Then Dylan exhaled and looked up.

"You know..."

He tapped the blade thoughtfully.

"...back in prehistoric times, humans used to fight creatures way stronger than them. Bare-ass naked, with three rocks and a stick."

Maggie raised an eyebrow.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

Dylan gave a tired smile.

"No. But it proves we can survive. Not by being the strongest. By being the smartest." He nodded toward the terrain. "We plan. We trap. We adapt if we have to. Like them. Like the first humans."

Élisa finally lifted her head.

"And someone’s gotta claim that gem."

She looked Maggie dead in the eyes.

"You might be the toughest of us, but you don’t own bravery."

Maggie looked at her, then at Dylan, then toward the forest. For a long time.

Finally, she muttered a curse under her breath, stood up, and slung her axe over her shoulder.

"Fine. But you follow MY orders. First screw-up, I knock you out myself."

Dylan let out a small laugh.

"Got it, boss."

Maybe they weren’t ready.

But they were together.

And sometimes, that made all the difference.