Poison God's Heritage

Chapter 876 Dread Princess

The creature's final, pitiful scream echoed briefly, then faded into the eerie quiet that followed. The air, once thick with tension and danger, now felt oddly still. Blackened ichor dripped from the remnants of the tentacles, staining the grass beneath our feet with dark, viscous pools that smelled of decay and corruption.

"Got the kid?" Liang Yu asked, her voice calm as she wiped a splatter of the foul substance from her robes, the pungent scent lingering in the air. She moved with the ease of someone used to cleaning up after battles, her demeanor composed, almost too casual given the chaos we had just fought through.

"Yeah, but..." I glanced down at the boy in my arms. His small frame had gone completely limp, his head lolling against my chest as if he'd collapsed from the sheer intensity of it all. "Looks like he passed out," I muttered, shifting him slightly to get a better look.

"Again with the kids," Law said, approaching with his arms folded, a faint smirk on his lips. "You really suck at this." He gave the boy a gentle nudge with his foot, as if trying to gauge whether the kid was truly unconscious or simply playing possum.

The boy stirred faintly, his eyelids fluttering as he hovered between consciousness and whatever terrifying nightmare the encounter had sent him into. But almost as soon as his eyes opened, they squeezed shut again, tight with fear, his body tensing as if expecting more danger.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"I know you're awake," I said softly, my tone as calm and reassuring as I could manage. I crouched down, gently lowering him onto the soft grass, hoping to ease his panic. His breathing quickened, his small chest rising and falling rapidly. "We're not here to hurt you," I added, though I could see that words alone wouldn't be enough to break through his terror.

The boy's eyes remained squeezed shut, his tiny fists clenched tightly. His lips trembled, and though no sound escaped him, the fear radiating from him was unmistakable. His whole body seemed locked in a silent scream, paralyzed by the horrors he'd witnessed.

Law arched an eyebrow, casting a sideways glance in my direction. "Solarous language, huh? Guess we should have brushed up on it before landing here."

I nodded in agreement, reaching into my pack and pulling out the small translator device we had acquired back at the Bastion. It had come in handy more times than I cared to admit. Without a word, I passed out earpieces to the others, the subtle hum of the device activating as we each slid the tiny buds into our ears.

The boy's eyes opened cautiously, darting between us as if trying to gauge whether we were still a threat. His small body trembled with fear, but there was a flicker of understanding now, a glimmer of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, we weren't the monsters he had feared.

"You're... not bad people?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet rustle of the grass around us.

I raised an eyebrow, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "Do we look like bad people?" I asked, keeping my voice light and friendly, though my mind raced with a dozen different questions. This boy, whoever he was, clearly had some kind of understanding of the threats in this land—and I needed to know more.

The boy frowned, confusion knitting his small brow. He seemed torn between his fear and the desire to believe me, but the wariness in his gaze remained.

"How are you still alive?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. He scanned our clothes, noting the unfamiliar style and the lack of any tribal markings or symbols. "You don't... wear the clothes of any tribe I know."

I froze, the boy's words striking like a bolt of lightning. Dread Princess? What was he talking about? My eyes darted back to Tao Yang's image, confusion flooding my mind.

"Dread Princess?" I muttered under my breath. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"I'm coming over, I need to see this," Tao Yang said.

The boy after hearing those words increased the pitch of his screams, his cries grew louder, more frantic. His voice pierced the quiet grasslands like a siren, carrying far beyond where we stood. "LET ME GO! FATHER! HELP ME!" His desperate pleas echoed across the field, carried by the wind like a cry for help sent to the heavens themselves.

I barely had time to react when I heard movement—a rustling in the grass that wasn't caused by the wind. Figures began to emerge from the tall stalks, stepping forward one by one, their silhouettes dark against the fading light of the day. They moved cautiously, but with purpose, their weapons at the ready.

A dozen or so people—men and women, armed with crude weapons—formed a loose semicircle around us. Some carried bows, others held spears tipped with Soulsteel, the sharp edges glinting ominously in the dimming light. Their faces were hardened, their eyes cold and distrustful, like a pack of wolves ready to defend their territory.

The largest of the group, a towering man with muscles that bulged beneath his leather armor, stepped forward. He held a long spear in one hand, the other clutching a slingshot, both weapons aimed at me with deadly precision. His gaze shifted briefly to the boy, who immediately ran to him, hiding behind his legs as if he had found the only safe place in the world.

"What's this?" Meng Hao said, and you could feel the annoyance appearing in his eyes.

After all, these weapons, even if they shot at us for a thousand years without stop, they wouldn't even cause us any harm.

I sent a message via divine sense, "Don't harm or hurt any of them, act like them, act as if you were mortals," I said as I raised my hands up.

The rest of the crew understood my intentions immediately. Liang Yu immediately released the boy who ran up to the most muscular of the people, and hid behind him.

"The Dread Princess!" the boy said, and almost in unison everyone gasped, "They're friends with her! And she is coming this way!"

The man's voice was rough, tinged with suspicion as he spoke. "Are you friends with the Dread Princess?" His question was less of an inquiry and more of an accusation, the implication clear in the way his eyes narrowed, his stance tightening with readiness.

"Misunderstanding," I muttered, raising my hands slowly in a gesture of peace. The last thing we needed was another fight, especially not with a tribe of hostile survivors who clearly had their own agenda. "We don't mean you any harm."

The boy peeked out from behind the large man, his wide, tear-streaked eyes locked on mine. He whispered something under his breath, too quiet for me to hear, but the tremble in his voice betrayed the fear still gripping him.