ocean-life Chapter 171 Extinct
Chapter 171 Extinct
Charleston leaned back in his chair, his expression hardening at the mention of a name that struck him like a lightning bolt. It was a name he hadn't heard in years—a name tied to memories he had buried deep. Kara. His daughter. The daughter who had stormed out of town, consumed by frustration and bitterness, after failing to surpass her younger brother. She had left because the town mocked her, branded her a failure, and turned their backs on her. Even Charleston, her own father, had been among those who looked down on her. Stay updated via My Virtual Library Empire
Kara's inability to control her mutant ability had been a bitter disappointment. She relied on mutant weapons and armor to survive—a stark contrast to the raw, unbridled power her younger brother had wielded effortlessly. Charleston had judged her harshly, his pride blinding him to the pain his words inflicted. But the moment she left town, regret began gnawing at his conscience. He hadn't just lost a daughter; he had driven her away.
Years had passed in silence. No letters, no messages, no signs of Kara. And he doubted she even knew the bitter truth—that her brother, the golden child of the town, was dead. He had died a hero, standing his ground when a collapsing realm unleashed a horde of mutants. Instead of saving himself, he chose to defend the town. His sacrifice saved countless lives but cost him his own.
"Kara is no longer one of us," Charleston said after a long pause, his voice heavy with resignation.
"What do you mean by that?" Collins asked, leaning forward with a frown. "She's your daughter, for crying out loud!"
"She was my daughter," Charleston snapped. "Not anymore. If she still cared—if she was still part of this family—she would have returned when my son died. But where was she? Nowhere to be found."
Collins shook his head. "Sir, with all due respect, she probably has no idea he's dead. You know how isolated this town is. Almost everything that happens here stays here. If Kara knew about his death, I'm certain she would have come back, at least for the funeral."
Charleston's jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the armrest of his chair. Collins' words stung because they carried a grain of truth.
Collins continued, undeterred by Charleston's silence. "Even if she does come back, she's still your blood. And who knows? She might be stronger now. It's been years since she left. Maybe she's learned to control her powers. Maybe she's even stronger than anyone in this room."
Charleston scoffed, his voice rising in frustration. "Even if she has improved, what makes you think she'd be any use to us? She couldn't control her powers back then. What's changed? She'd be a liability, not an asset."
Collins held his ground. "With all due respect, sir, we're not in a position to turn down help. War is coming, and this town can't rely on the Eternal families for aid. We don't have the resources to hire a guild, either. We need every warrior we can muster, even if that means swallowing our pride and reaching out to Kara. Call her. Tell her what's happening here. Ask for her help."
Charleston stared at Collins, his expression unreadable. The room was silent except for the faint ticking of a clock. Collins' words lingered in the air, pressing on Charleston's shoulders like a weight he couldn't shake. After what felt like an eternity, Charleston let out a long sigh.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I'll call her."
Collins nodded, satisfied, and rose to his feet. "In the meantime, Matt and I will patrol the town. We'll take some Rotors to ensure everything's secure and report back if there's trouble."
Charleston waved a hand dismissively. "Do it."
With a slight bow, Collins left the room, Matt following close behind. Once the door clicked shut, Charleston pulled out a small communication device from his pocket. He stared at it, his hand trembling slightly. Doubts and memories swirled in his mind, but before he could act, another voice broke the silence.
"How did he get here so quickly?" someone muttered, their voice barely above a whisper. "No one even sensed his presence."
Bizon turned to the room, his expression unreadable, though his voice carried a calm authority. "Apologies for the mess. I couldn't stand to hear that bastard disrespect the leader any longer."
Charleston straightened slightly, his eyes meeting Bizon's. "Don't worry about it, Bizon. It's not a problem," he said evenly. "What brings you here?"
Bizon rested a hand on the hilt of his blade, his piercing gaze scanning the room. "I'm sure Matt has already informed you about the massacre on Spring Island."
Charleston nodded grimly. "He said the creature killed everyone. Not a single survivor. No witnesses. We have no clue what we're dealing with."
Bizon's voice deepened, his words deliberate. "That's true, but I may have a lead. When we arrived at the island, it was engulfed in flames and smoke. At first, we assumed there had been a gas leak or an explosion during the attack. But the more I investigated, the clearer it became that this wasn't caused by chance. The fire was deliberate."
Charleston frowned. "Deliberate? You're saying the creatures set the fire themselves?"
"Exactly." Bizon's tone carried a note of certainty. "The rock sealing the entrance to the cave where the eggs were kept wasn't just broken—it was scorched. Burned clean through. And there were no footprints anywhere on the island, only ash and charred ground. That means the creatures didn't walk—they flew. We're dealing with a mutant species that can use fire and has the ability to fly."
Charleston's eyes widened, realization dawning. "A dragon-type mutant."
Bizon nodded. "Precisely. I thought they were extinct, but it seems we were wrong. It's likely their mother laid the eggs in that cave before she was killed."
Charleston's chest tightened as the implications sank in. "If they're dragon-types, then they can cover vast distances in no time. They could come here next."
"Exactly," Bizon said. "Once they finish feeding on the corpses at Spring Island, they'll be looking for their next target. And this area... it's the closest one."
The room fell deathly silent, the weight of Bizon's words pressing down on everyone present. Charleston's hands trembled slightly as he reached for his communication device. Without another word, he began dialing a number—a number he hadn't used in years.
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