Endless Evolution: Last Star Chapter 1578 1578: Old Horn

Liliane's squad stood poised to depart from their outpost and venture into the Primal Lands. Yet, would that truly suffice to seize just one K4-Phantom?

As the door swung wide, the man stepped back into his quarters high in the tower.

"Have they accepted the mission?" the woman inquired, her wine glass tilting gently in her grip.

He gave a firm nod.

"Naturally. They're prepared to execute any command you issue. Liliane in particular—she'll make a formidable fighter after a few more decades."

The man started to add more, but the woman cut him off abruptly:

"That's insufficient."

"Eh?" The man blinked repeatedly, puzzled. "Miss, this marks the fifth squad, with seven mighty Lords. Any one of them could shatter every bone in Adam Vinter's frame. Surely that's more than adequate to ensure their operation succeeds?"

The woman sipped her wine, averting her eyes.

"Don't be absurd. Do you believe we're the sole ones who see his worth? To us, Adam Vinter poses a grave threat, but to the humans, he's a prodigy they must safeguard."

"B-But..." The man stuttered. "He's deep in the Primal Lands now! Frida can't shield him there!"

The woman whipped around, fixing him with a sharp glare.

"Last time, that changed nothing. He was right in the heart of the Dark Shore. The First Star handed us an opening to eliminate him, yet we squandered it! Flanked by two Lords and a Second Rank Phantom, he proved untouchable. Our forces had no hope."

The man bowed his head low.

"My regrets. I hadn't considered that. Miss, if you'd like to deploy extra troops for this task, perhaps I should approach the fourth or sixth squad? I'm confident they'll consent to team up with Liliane's group."

Oddly, she rejected the suggestion. A different scheme occupied her thoughts.

"The Primal Lands, eh? I'll reach out to the Old Horn. Bargaining with him will prove far tougher than dispatching another squad, but if that savage beast tackles the job, victory in the mission becomes all but certain."

"The Old Horn? Hmph... That stubborn relic will no doubt request something excessive. Still, if this eliminates a looming danger for good, it's a wise choice."

The woman inclined her head, her expression growing intense.

"Precisely. And luckily, our reserves abound. You can leave. I'll handle this myself."

The man dipped into a deep bow.

"Understood!"

With no more words, he exited her room, leaving her lost in contemplation.

"Tch, I hated resorting to this, but I can't ignore the chance. During this World Wipe, troubles will pile up. If I can erase one brewing threat immediately, I have to act."

She placed her wine glass on the balcony ledge and moved toward another section of her tower.

A massive crimson emblem adorned the wall, etched with complex symbols and archaic runes.

At its core loomed an image of a blood droplet cradled between two palms.

The woman shut her eyes as the energy surge ignited the emblem.

Crimson vapor coiled about her while vivid stars emerged within the swirling power.

She gradually lifted her lids, focusing on a single star.

"Alright, Old Horn, time to witness your full prowess."

Her finger brushed the star.

...

Right then, in a remote corner of the Primal Lands, atop a vast stone seat draped in animal pelts, a towering three-meter figure slumbered.

His flesh bore a ghostly blue hue, his chest exposed, and his skull fused traits of bull and lion. This beast embodied its true shape, which oddly mirrored the humanoid guise of fellow monsters due to its traits.

Yet his skull, hooves, talons, and tusks marked him unmistakably as no human—more akin to the legendary minotaur.

Tremble. Tremble. Tremble.

A scarlet glow emanated from the pouch of his loose trousers, rousing his slate-gray eyes.

"Grh?" The creature scowled. "What's this disturbance?"

He rubbed the nape of his neck, grazing his horn. A second jutted nearby, snapped off at the root.

Wearing a groggy grimace, the monster fished the relic from his pocket: the crimson droplet now ablaze with glowing runes.

He gripped the crimson droplet tight, unleashing red vapor that drifted outward.

Moments later, a feminine voice echoed through the cavern:

"It's been ages, Old Horn."

The Old Horn grimaced.

"You realize I can only hear you, not behold you? Though... we both know there's little worth seeing anyway."

"Oh, as ever, your tongue runs wild." The woman sighed.

Had any other soul mocked her so boldly—even a Lord—their end would be swift, but the Old Horn stood apart.

"Tch. Out with it—what's your aim? How many years since our last chat? Surely not to prattle about the skies, right?"

The woman dipped her head solemnly.

"Indeed. I seek your aid. You're holed up in your den in the Primal Lands, as usual. Correct?"

"Hah, where else? This is my domain!"

"Then, two visitors now roam your territory. Slay one and seize the other unharmed, then deliver them to Liliane's fifth team."

The Old Horn arched a brow.

"Liliane? That young one leads now? Huh, not what I'd foreseen."

"Yes, she's skilled, but she needs much growth to claim the pinnacle one day."

The Old Horn hawked a glob onto the floor and wiped his lips.

"So, which Phantom is it? If it's elite stock, cut this link and stay away forever."

The woman squinted.

"No need for alarm. Merely a basic K4-Phantom—Adam Vinter."

The Old Horn blinked in bewilderment, several times.

"W-What?"