I’ll Surpass The MC

”We have no idea how long it might take or if he’s even there at the bottom of the Abyss Fall!” Orakha shouted as he fell towards the Abyss Fall alongside Virala, “Won’t the influence send your stack out of whack?”

“That’s the best part about being a Mystic Human.” Virala grinned as he covered the duo with a submarine made out of Tratham, “Even if our bodies are split apart, we can easily recover the stack without issues. We have no influence to worry about.”

With a tug of his tail, a large amount of Parute Fruits stored in the tell fell into the submarine whose lid closed up as the duo took seats within. Psychokinesis whirred to the extreme, unleashing a powerful thrust as the submarine plunged deeper into the Abyss Fall, going against the water currents.

Phells were pushed to the side as the submarine brushed past them. Some of them exploded, purposefully plunging their needle-shaped noses into each other in an effort to harm the speeding object past them.

However, even the force behind their explosion was kept at bay by the force of psychokinesis constantly radiated by the submarine. As their surroundings darkened, Orakha regained his cool and asked, “Isn’t the risk too much?”

“I can revive when I get killed, but you’ve come with your mature body.” He expressed his worry, “If this body of yours gets killed, your accumulations would be halted to a large extent.”

“Well, this is the path Inala had used, so I’m sure there’s something at the end of this line for us,” Virala said and casually chucked a few Parute Fruits into his mouth. “I don’t think he would die a dog’s death anywhere outside an Influenced Region. So, I’m pretty sure he’s alive.”

The duo continued to travel through the darkness for four months before they noticed a light, soon entering the hollow section underground. Propelled by Virala’s Mystic Grade psychokinesis, the submarine was faster than Inala’s, shortening the almost year’s journey to around five months.

As they travelled through the stream of water, the figure of a planet farther away became highlighted in their vision. Staring at it, Virala commented, “See! I knew there was something here.”

“This place is…?” Orakha stared at the various streams of water heading towards the planet. He focused on the design of the landmass on the planet, immediately recalling an illustration published in Sumatra Chronicles, “This is the Ravaged Federation!”

“Inala is making plans for the Fourth Major Disaster?”

“Hahaha! Of course, he would do something like that.” Virala burst into laughter as the submarine continued to approach the planet. He then stared a Orakha to say, “Can you mimic the presence of a Ravaged Tribesman? It seems the oceans of this planet are filled with Phells. Since we came here to find Inala, it won’t be nice to wreak havoc.”

“Give me a few minutes,” Orakha said and began to arrange his Human Avatar, gradually modifying the presence he released. He absorbed some of the Tratham from Virala’s submarine and used it to make the changes.

Following that, he released the presence of a Ravaged Tribesman and coursed it through the submarine, observing the Phells drop their aggressiveness towards them. “I can maintain this effect on you within my Spirit Weapon range. So, stay close to me. Otherwise, the Phells will try to jump you.”

“Alright,” Virala nodded as the submarine landed in the middle of the ocean, following which he steered it towards land, approaching the closest city, Myorc City. In a mere five months, they had completed the journey.

He retracted the submarine and walked alongside Orakha, observing a couple of Mystic Eaters take refuge in his clothes, coiling around his midriff to generate the presence of a Ravaged Tribesman. “Let’s start searching for Inala.”

“I don’t think that would be necessary anymore,” Orakha said and pointed at the people on the shore making inspections on their ships. It was daybreak and they had just returned from their fishing trip, hauling large batches of Phells from the ocean.

Of the people working there, one middle-aged man stared at the duo of Virala and Orakha, waving at them.

“Do you know who he is?” Virala asked as he stared at Orakha, “He’s behaving familiarly with us.”

“First time I’m seeing him.” Orakha stared at the Mystic Eater concealed in his sleeve, stating upon observing its reaction, “He’s a Ravaged Tribesman and doesn’t have any similarities to a Zinger.”

“The two of you must be newcomers.” The middle-aged man was Rattac, the enthusiastic individual who welcomed Inala. Staring at the duo, he exclaimed in awe, “Long ago, I met a guy who came from the ocean similar to the two of you.”

“Did he say his name?” Virala asked.

“Let me say a few things about the Ravaged Federation first.” Rattac said and welcomed the duo to the place, “Even in the Ravaged Federation, our Myorc City prides itself in being extremely open and easygoing about life.”

He brought the duo to the entrance of Myorc City, greeting the people along the way.

“Did you see it?” Virala whispered to Orakha as he transformed his ears alone into the Empyrean Boar King’s for an instant.

“Yeah…” Orakha nodded, watching the bodies of his Mystic Eaters faintly tremble in response, “The frequency isn’t audible to human ears, but this is the Zinger shriek.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NøᴠᴇlFire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“He’s here, alright,” Virala smirked and eyed everyone the Rattac had greeted using the Zinger shriek alongside his normal voice. “And judging by what I’m seeing, he has established an underground force.”

“Do we interrogate?” Orakha said, raising a Mystic Eater, intending to capture Rattac, “It’ll take me two seconds to subdue him.”

“Don’t,” Virala grabbed Orakha’s hand and said in interest, “Let’s wait and see what happens. They’re probably on their way to relay news of our arrival to Inala.”

“What if he hides himself further after hearing about us?” Orakha asked, “Even in the Brimgan Empire, he hid himself very well. None of us had any idea about his second identity as Amita Brimgan.”

“We’ve come here this time to tell him about the changes. I don’t think it’s in Inala’s nature to avoid a confrontation.” Virala expressed calmly, “But if he doesn’t even dare face us even after we arrived with non-hostile intentions, then we’ll do as we please.”

He smiled and looked around, “The Sanctuary is somewhere on this planet. We’ll know the routes leading to it once we interrogate a couple of natives. We can force ourselves into the picture here.”

“As a society, we value freedom the most. That’s why we live minimalistic lives free of worries. There’s no issue of food thanks to the infinite supply of Phells.” Rattac continued to introduce the various social and cultural rules of the place as the trio walked through the city streets.

Orakha noticed many women working on the terraces of the houses watching them, sending them flirtatious glances. Some of them were open about their desire to mate with the newcomer duo.

Spontaneously in response, Orakha stared at Virala, stunned to see the latter sporting a calm expression, “I thought you would have been behaving like a rabid dog in heat by now.”

“Hmm?” Virala stared at Orakha and chuckled, “I like banging women, but not every female I come across. Upon becoming a Mystic Human, my standards have changed. I’m only into banging princesses, queens, and empresses.”

“It was my mistake to ask.” Orakha used a Mystic Eater to dig into his ear to clean the rot that he heard just now. He then focused on striking a casual conversation with Rattac, intending to probe out more about the place.

“As you’re sensing, everyone here is a Ravaged Tribesman.” Rattac said as he pointed at the City Lord’s house, “We have an entrance leading to the Comb from there. We engage in divine battles and the winner consumes the genetics of the loser.”

“We have kept up this tradition for tens of thousands of years. Everyone here has a dominant gene characteristic of at least a couple dozen races.” He stopped upon arriving at the entrance of the City Lord’s house, “I’ll introduce you to the City Lord. He’s the strongest and oldest existence of Myorc City. He’ll be happy to clear any of your doubts and will also help integrate you into this place.”

“We have newcomers? Now, that’s the second time I’m witnessing this.” The voice of an old man resounded from inside as a hunched figure walked out. His wizened eyes stared at Viral and Orakha to say in surprise, “If my old eyes were failing, I would have assumed the two of you are brothers with the lad that arrived a few years ago.”

“If memory serves right, that was almost nine years ago, I think.”

‘This guy is strong!’ Orakha thought, feeling the old man’s presence stab at him like blades, robustly powerful and sharpened to their extreme. ‘He’s only a step away from becoming a Clansman.’

“We arrived here while searching for clues of that guy.” Virala got to the point immediately, “We’re not exactly brothers, but you can consider us cousins.”

“Cousins, I see.” The old man, Pettenac said, his gaze hinting at an uncontrollable desire for an instant before subsiding into calmness. “Judging by the strength of your presence, I think in terms of status, you were on par with Inala at the Quip Tribe, right?”

‘I believe that’s the name he gave to his force.’ Virala recalled the scene of the Quip Clansmen facing the Bludders at the Dralh Sea, smiling as he nodded, “It’s more or less similar.”

“Elder, may we know where he is currently?”

“He’s dead.” Pettenac sighed, lamenting at the loss, “A pity that he didn’t survive his first entry into the Comb. I was looking forward to his feats, but alas, things don’t go always according to plan. That’s fate.”

“He’s…dead?” Orakha blurted out in shock, “That’s impossible. He’s strong.”

“The Comb matches fighters capable of killing each other. There’s always a chance of death, no matter how strong you are, since the Comb’s matchmaking is terrifying.” Pettenac sighed as he pointed into his house, “Come join me for a short chat.”

“I wish to know more about the outside world, especially about the Celestial Boar.”

“We don’t mind that,” Virala said, still maintaining a gaze of disbelief at the news of Inala’s death. It was just an act though as he could still feel the faint vibrations from the Zinger shrieks being maintained in the backdrop. ‘Considering how active their communication is, Inala’s more than just alive. He’s prospering!’

Without relying on the senses of the Empyrean Boar King and the Mystic Ewworm, it was impossible for Virala to sense the Zinger shrieks, especially since it had been improved to an extent the soundwaves were too faint to be felt by an average cultivator.

However, Virala was only able to sense the soundwaves from the shrieks and not the content in them, since he wasn’t a Zinger, ‘It might be useful to have some Mystic Humans become Zingers for ease of communication. But there might be dangers involved, since I fear Inala can control the race of Zingers.’

He had no idea about the extent of Inala’s power mechanisms after becoming the Royal Zinger and how much he controlled the race of Zingers, but he knew better than to take unnecessary risks that could jeopardise the security of his Mystic Humans.

The conversation lasted two hours, at the end of which, Virala and Orakha were informed of all the basics that they needed to live as part of Myorc City.

“Get accustomed to the place for a few days and then you can attempt to enter the Comb,” Pettenac said, hoping that at least a few women could get pregnant with the duo’s seeds by then. It was the same intentions he had when facing Inala as he pointed at Rattac, “He’ll guide you to your houses.”

“Thank you for your help, City Lord.” Orakha bowed respectfully and followed Rattac.

The duo of Orakha and Virala were silent during the journey, following Rattac who meandered through the crowded streets and stopped at a one-storey stone house, “Please enter.”

“There is just one empty house here,” Orakha muttered upon looking around at the occupied houses on the street. He then pointed at Virala, “It might be better if we were assigned houses next to each other.”

“Of course,” Rattac chuckled in response, “Your assigned houses are on another street. I’ve brought you here for another purpose.”

He bowed formally and pointed at the house, “Please enter this establishment, respected Mystic Paths.”

“He’s waiting inside.”

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