Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

Immediately the mimic arrived at the top of the mountain, it screeched before tossing Stark forcefully into the forest.

Stark held his head in his hands as he tore through the branches.

Swoosh!

His body tumbled, a large branch exploding on contact before he collided with the floor and rolled several times across the muddy dirt.

"Shit!" Stark cursed as he stood up, his body fraught with pain.

He raised his sword in front of him, taking tense breaths as he observed his environment.

Unlike the part of the forest Kael was in, this area had a thick canopy of leaves that blanketed out the moonlight, allowing only thin streaks to pierce through.

It was difficult to see anything, and save for the rain slipping through the leaves, there was not a single sound.

'Kael said the adults would be at the lower parts of the mountain.'

He had not come here mentally prepared to fight an adult mimic, especially after Kael's earlier assurance.

Stark clenched his jaw as he tried to pierce through the darkness. That was when he saw something—

Multiple yellow eyes glowing ferociously through the space all around him. A low tremorous growl came a second later, reverberating through the area.

The mimic had not brought him here to fight him… it had brought him here to be devoured.

All around him were countless monsters, beasts known as mountain ambers.

As the eyes began to move, tens of beasts slowly circled him. Stark could make out their feline bodies, silver claws that gleamed now and then, and fangs—canines far too long to fit into their mouths.

He was in a precarious position: one man versus tens of beasts, and he couldn't even see properly.

Still, Stark was no pushover.

"Come."

A small gust of wind rushed past as four figures suddenly materialized out of thin air.

The first two, wielding their battle axes like murderous fiends, were Shifu and the unnamed goat man.

Standing at his back was a beast with rough fur and a mouth packed with vicious teeth. The dire wolf raised its head to the sky and howled, a piercing cry that caused the panthers to freeze for a moment.

And finally, a little round spirit floated at his side, glaring at the panthers with a cutely terrifying stare.

"Come on, pussies, let's play."

The monsters snarled and lunged, their bodies a blur of shadows as they charged.

His spirits moved as well, charging into the fold.

Clang!

His dagger met terrible claws, the mountain amber scratching at it ferociously, leaving little scuffs on the blade.

Stark slashed with his sword, nearly taking off its head, but the monster was far too nimble, its reflexes greater than any cat.

Its body twisted like a snake as the blade sliced off the tip of its ear, then it blended with the darkness, vanishing from view.

All around him, Stark was surrounded by the sounds of battle—the explosive clash of axe and claw, teeth grinding against bone, and the howl and roar of beasts.

Meanwhile, multiple panthers circled him, each one growling low as they stalked.

All they had to do was close their eyes, and they completely vanished from view.

That was the way mountain ambers fought. They stayed in the darkest parts of the mountain and leapt out when you least expected it.

But throughout the past three months Stark had trained not only his body but his senses as well.

All he had to do was discard his eyes. He closed them, listening to the pit-pat of rain, searching for points of distortion.

Places where the rain stalled just before landing… the quiet breaths that pierced through all the noise… the crushing of leaves.

Swoosh!

Stark twisted his body, his blade lashing out like a serpent's bite.

Behind him, an amber was mid-pounce, jaws wide open, fur dripping wet, claws outstretched.

The blade met its head with terrifying force, splitting its skull from center down, spilling brain matter onto the ground.

Still moving, he bent low, grabbing the tail of an amber that had missed its lunge.

The beast let out a cat-like whimper as Stark pulled its tail back—using its body as a whip, he slammed it into another panther before driving his blade into its stomach.

The next few moments were tense, swift, and bloody. There were cries of beasts, flashes of lightning, bursts of steam, sprinkles of blood, and the ever-present gleam of two blades—

A dark blue dagger and a blackened sword.

Soon, the forest was still, and Stark took a deep breath, panting heavily.

"I should meet up with the others."

Although they had Kael with them, all it took was one mistake for someone to lose their life.

There was also the mimic that had dropped him off… if it returned to join them, their situation would become dire.

Stark sheathed his sword.

He lifted his hands, pulling all the spirit stones to himself, but this time he did not consume them.

Entering the process of ascension right now would only expose him to dire risks.

Instead, he handed them to Chubby. "Eat this. You'll spit them out later, okay?" Chubby nodded and swallowed them.

"Let's go!" he shouted through the rain, and both he and his spirits began their charge.

The dire wolf galloped in front, fangs bared as it led the procession, while Shifu and the second goat man flanked Stark's sides.

They had only managed a few steps when the forest exploded.

The mimic, still in the form of the soul eater, descended like lightning, shattering the trees as though they were matchsticks.

His dire wolf howled in surprise as the soul eater plunged its talons into its back, and with two massive flaps of its wings, lifted it off the ground along with a large tree trunk.

It was an eerie sight.

Stark dismissed his wolf immediately, but he was too late—the beast had already been destroyed by the creature's claws.

The soul eater cut through the air like an arrow, its massive body moving too fast for reason, before curving mid-air and returning with terrible force.

Along with the tree trunk.

And then it tossed it—right at them.