Mutant awakening: My evolution knows no bounds

At the heart of this desolate planet stood a massive tower—a structure twisted from charred rock and the remnants of long-forgotten battles. Red flames crackled along its jagged surface, casting an eerie crimson glow over the barren wasteland below. At the tower's pinnacle, an immense flame roared, its ominous light stretching across the horizon—a symbol of the fearsome power and unyielding terror that ruled this world.

Inside the tower's shadowy throne room, a dark figure sat upon a throne carved from bones and skulls, his gaze piercing and predatory. He clutched a goblet filled with a thick, dark liquid that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. His eyes gleamed with a cruel intelligence, surveying the room with an air of absolute authority.

The towering doors groaned as they opened, and a cloaked figure slipped inside, immediately dropping to his knees before the throne. "My Lord," he murmured, bowing his head low. "I come bearing news of… the former Clan Head. The Apex Mutant."

The man on the throne, clad in a long black robe, sat up straight, brushing his dark hair back to get a clearer view of the man kneeling before him.

"Speak, loyal servant," he commanded, his voice thunderous and deep, shaking the throne room slightly with its intensity.

"The priest who once served the former Clan Head claims he sensed the power of the Apex Mutant. As we all know, the Apex Mutant died several years ago in the human world, so this must be a successor. The Apex Mutant chose a host before his death, just as he promised, and that host has begun his growth. In time, he will be as powerful as the Apex Mutant once was." The servant's voice was steady as he kept his head bowed, his loyalty evident.

A troubled expression darkened the face of the man on the throne as he absorbed the news.

"A host? Are you certain of this?" he demanded, his voice resonating with the same menacing tone.

"The priest has never been wrong, my Lord. He confirmed that there's a host in the human world," the servant affirmed audibly.

"Damn it. Even after death, that bastard continues to torment me. I have worked tirelessly, spilled countless drops of blood, and clawed my way to my position as Clan Head. I can't let some human vessel destroy all I've built."

"If this Host continues to grow, his powers will surpass not only mine but those of all the lieutenants under my command. If that happens, he'll surely take over my throne and claim the Clan Head title." The Lord's voice was tinged with fury as he glowered, a dark look clouding his face.

"What should we do, my Lord? How should we proceed?" the servant asked, his voice laced with concern.

"We have to eliminate this host before he grows any stronger. If we find him now, before he reaches his peak, we might still have a chance to kill him," the Lord replied, his tone edged with urgency.

"But how do we travel to Earth, my Lord? All our scientists have failed to create a portal or open a new rift leading there. As it stands, I don't think we have the means to make a move," the servant articulated, his head still bowed.

"Then we'll have to wait for the humans to open a portal to the Crimson Coffin," the Lord replied, sipping from the goblet.

"But, my Lord, we haven't seen one of those portals in years. I believe the humans finally learned that venturing here is suicide—no one who enters survives," the servant murmured.

"If there's one thing I learned during my time on Earth, it's that humans never truly learn. No matter how dangerous it may be, they will try again. Greed drives them, and when they realize that valuable artifacts lie on this planet, they will undoubtedly return. All we must do is wait. And when that portal opens, you'll seize the opportunity, cross through, and bring that host to me," the Lord ordered, his voice resounding through the room. The servant nodded in firm affirmation.

"Also, ensure the Fifth Clan's leader doesn't catch wind of this. We both know how they are. If they find out about this host, they'll do everything in their power to protect him," the Lord added, his tone hardening with finality.

"I will do as you command, my Lord," the servant replied, rising to his feet. He bowed his head once more before turning and slipping out of the room.

With the servant gone, the Lord leaned back against his throne of bones, raising his goblet to his lips. As he drank, his mind filled with dark thoughts.

"A host, huh?" he muttered, a cold smile twisting his lips. "He must die if I am to keep ruling the Crimson Coffin."

---

A week had passed since Sensei Josh's death, and surprisingly, no one spoke much of it. The students were content with the new sensei, who proved far more skilled than Josh, leaving them indifferent to his mysterious fate.

Kara, however, knew Silas was responsible, and once again, she had covered for him, ensuring nothing linked back to him. After a few days, the incident faded into oblivion, and Silas had already moved on.

Dressing for the day, he made his way to the cafeteria to meet his group. Today marked the start of his punishment for supposedly buying energy pills from the Blood Market.

Of course, Silas hadn't actually bought any pills, but this accusation was far better than the academy discovering what really transpired.

Silas filled his group in on the punishment over breakfast, and afterward, he headed to a different part of the academy where the staff assigned to oversee his "work" awaited.

The area was a construction site filled with half-finished buildings, scattered equipment, and machinery. When Silas arrived, he noticed a group of staff members standing a few meters away.

"All female?" he mused, mildly surprised as he walked toward them.

There were four women, each dressed in the standard navy blue staff uniform. Silas's eyes flickered over them, taking in their appearances.

Each woman was strikingly beautiful, with captivating figures that would draw any man's attention. However, Silas noticed something peculiar.

"Grade 1s," he observed, glancing at the skill slots on their belts, each displaying a single glowing bar.

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