"Run!" someone shouted.
Everyone instinctively turned around and bolted.
"F-Follow me!" the old Guide barked, leading the charge.
Panic took over. Feet pounded the scorched earth as the group scattered like frightened deer.
But Alvin didn't move.
His eyes remained locked on the Aberration as it lumbered forward.
'It's fire-type… definitely Tier 4. But it's off—stronger than a typical Tier 4, but not quite at the peak of the rank.'
He narrowed his eyes.
'Running won't save us if it uses an area-of-effect spell.'
He had read that some Aberrations could use techniques or magic, depending on how much intelligence they retained.
As it moved, the ground it touched blackened and burned, leaving a trail of scorched stone in its wake.
"W-what the hell?" someone exclaimed.
"Why are we back here again?!"
"H-how...?" The Guide stared at the path behind him, stunned.
They had been running away—but somehow ended up where they started.
