Chapter 57: The Shatterwing Butterfly


    Out of curiosity, Han Ming quietly climbed up a tree to get a better view.


    In the distance, along the path they had come, he saw flickering lights. It was a group of about twenty people carrying torches, heading their way.


    *Damn it!* Han Ming thought. *Why now? If they discover the beast’s trail, it’ll be trouble.*


    He climbed down, his mind racing. They needed to act fast, or else this unexpected group could complicate things.


    Han Ming turned his attention to the man Reid had sent to investigate the frozen tree.


    The man was now about twenty meters away from the icy tree.


    As everyone watched nervously, something unexpected happened.


    The man suddenly swayed, then collapsed to the ground without warning.


    "What’s going on!?"


    Everyone was stunned. How had the man died? He only had a thin layer of frost on him—nothing fatal. What had killed him?


    Within moments, another member of Reid’s group collapsed, twitching briefly before going still.


    "Run! Get out of here!" Reid shouted in panic, turning to flee.


    But before he could take a step, he too swayed and fell to the ground.


    The remaining men were terrified, completely baffled by what was happening. One of them, overcome with fear, sat down and opened his mouth to scream, but before he could make a sound, he too went limp, lifeless.


    Han Ming, watching from a distance with his water magic-enhanced vision, felt a chill run down his spine. He saw it clearly—a small, tri-colored butterfly fluttering gracefully through the air. The butterfly landed lightly on a man’s forehead, and the man instantly dropped dead. The butterfly then vanished, only to reappear moments later on another man’s hand. A gentle touch of its delicate legs, and that man too fell lifeless.


    *What the hell is that thing!?*


    Han Ming was speechless. This butterfly clearly wasn’t the ice-elemental beast he was after. It didn’t radiate any cold energy, and it could teleport!


    What was going on?


    The surviving mercenaries finally realized what was happening and began screaming in terror, fleeing toward Han Ming. But they couldn’t escape their fate.


    The tri-colored butterfly continued its deadly dance. It would land on a man, kill him, then vanish and reappear on another. Each time its delicate legs touched a person, that person would drop dead.


    The mercenaries were only a few dozen meters away from Han Ming, but that short distance became an insurmountable barrier of death.


    By the time the last mercenary reached within twenty meters of Han Ming, he too collapsed.


    Han Ming’s heart raced. He kicked off the tree trunk, trying to put distance between himself and the butterfly, but to his horror, the creature was already in front of him, its tiny legs poised to touch the tip of his nose.


    Han Ming’s eyes widened in terror. He pushed off with all his strength, leaping backward to avoid the deadly touch.


    But as soon as he landed, the butterfly was there again, mere centimeters from his face.


    Han Ming turned and ran. Even without combat aura, his strength rivaled that of a first-tier War Madness. In terms of raw power, he might even surpass a third-tier War Madness. His speed far exceeded that of an ordinary first-tier warrior.


    Han Ming sprinted with everything he had, layering ice shields around himself as he went. His magic crystals were draining rapidly, but he couldn’t stop.


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    The tri-colored butterfly kept pace effortlessly. Each time it landed on one of Han Ming’s ice shields, the shield shattered like a soap bubble.


    Han Ming kept casting new shields, but they were destroyed almost as quickly as he could create them.


    He raced through the night, his speed turning him into a blur. In all his time in this world, he had never run for his life like this.


    The butterfly seemed to grow impatient. Instead of breaking one shield at a time, it now destroyed two with each touch.


    Only Han Ming, with his extraordinary sensitivity to magic elements, could keep up with the demand for new shields. Anyone else would have been dead by now.


    But even Han Ming couldn’t sustain this. The butterfly was breaking two shields at a time, and his magic was running out.


    Despair crept into Han Ming’s heart. He had come here for the ice-elemental beast, only to be ambushed by this terrifying butterfly. The butterfly was far more dangerous. At least the ice beast couldn’t teleport!


    As Han Ming ran, he noticed something. Up close, he could see faint frost marks on the butterfly’s abdomen. It was injured, likely from a fight with the ice beast. That explained why the ice beast’s trail appeared and disappeared. The two creatures must have been battling, both severely wounded. But why were they fighting?


    Han Ming didn’t have time to ponder this. His life was on the line.


    Just as he was about to exhaust his last bit of magic, he saw figures in the distance—the group with torches he had spotted earlier.


    Relief washed over him. He crushed a magic crystal in his hand, absorbing its energy in one desperate burst, and cast one final ice shield. Then he sprinted toward the group.


    "Second Brother, let’s stop here for the night. We’ll continue tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll make a good haul."


    "Agreed. This trip has been profitable. We’ll get a good price when we return. Now—wait! Who’s there!?"


    The group noticed Han Ming’s rapidly approaching figure. His speed was terrifying.


    They drew their weapons, but Han Ming was already among them. He grabbed four people by their arms and took off running back toward Blackstone City.


    The rest of the group, realizing their companions had been taken, shouted and gave chase.


    But as they ran, members of their group began to fall, one by one.


    Han Ming had successfully diverted the butterfly’s attention. He glanced back and saw the group dwindling rapidly. Only a dozen or so were left.


    The four people Han Ming was dragging along couldn’t resist. The wind roared in their ears as they were carried at breakneck speed.


    Behind them, the remaining members of the group continued to fall. Shouts and screams echoed faintly in the distance.


    "What’s happening!? Who’s attacking us!? Show yourself, you coward—ah!" The voice cut off abruptly.


    Han Ming looked back and saw only a few torches still flickering on the hillside. As he watched, another torch went out.


    *Damn it!* Han Ming thought. *I need to get to Blackstone City!*


    After what felt like an eternity, Han Ming heard a faint gasp. One of the people he was carrying had died.


    *It caught up already!?*


    Han Ming’s heart nearly stopped. He was running at full speed, and the butterfly had been delayed by nearly twenty people, yet it had still caught up.


    Blackstone City was now in sight.


    Han Ming tossed the dead body aside and threw one of the living men into the air. He crushed another magic crystal, absorbing its energy to cast more ice shields.


    The man Han Ming had thrown didn’t even hit the ground before the butterfly touched him, killing him instantly.


    Han Ming didn’t hesitate. He cast another shield and threw the next man into the air. That man too died before he could land.


    Shield after shield, Han Ming kept going until the last man was dead. By then, he had four layers of ice shields around himself.


    Normally, Han Ming wouldn’t use so many shields in a fight. It would hinder his vision, slow his reactions, and drain his magic. But this wasn’t a fight—it was a desperate escape.


    Han Ming’s legs felt like jelly. He had pushed himself to the limit, covering in minutes what would normally take two days. His body was on the verge of collapse.


    The butterfly shattered two of his shields. Han Ming cast another, frantically absorbing energy from his crystals. The rapid absorption left him dizzy and disoriented.


    Blackstone City was right in front of him.


    *Run! Run! Run!*


    That was all Han Ming could think.


    Two more shields broke. Han Ming cast another and dashed through the city gates.


    He didn’t stop. As the last two shields shattered, he burst into an inn, crashing through the building and out the other side. Several sleeping patrons were sent flying.


    The commotion woke the inn’s occupants, and lights began to flicker on. But as they did, more people began to drop dead.


    Han Ming didn’t stop. He raced through the city’s widest street, finally reaching the far side of Blackstone City. He leaped onto the city wall and collapsed, gasping for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and he couldn’t move a muscle.


    Blackstone City, though not densely populated, still had around two hundred thousand people. Han Ming doubted the butterfly could kill them all.


    After half an hour, Han Ming finally caught his breath. His limbs ached, and the overuse of magic crystals had left him with a splitting headache.


    "What the hell was that thing!?" Han Ming muttered.


    "Shatterwing Butterfly," a voice answered.


    Han Ming jumped in fright, scrambling to his feet. He turned to see Katheryn, the elf, standing there. She was as stunning as ever, radiant and ethereal.


    "What!? You’re still following me? It’s been a year. Shouldn’t your injuries be healed by now? And what’s a Shatterwing Butterfly?"


    Han Ming was baffled. Katheryn had claimed she was hiding from the dragons and recovering from her injuries. But a year had passed. He thought she had left long ago.


    Katheryn’s expression was grim. "I’m just as confused. The Shatterwing Butterfly shouldn’t exist in this realm. It’s a creature from the demon world. Its appearance here means something has gone terribly wrong."