My Maids are All Final Villainesses

Chapter 74: Dangerous Training Ground 2/2

The silence that followed the projection did not last long.

The Shaman lowered his hand slowly, and the image faded like mist under the sun. The younger generation remained frozen, their eyes still fixed on the empty space where the scene had been moments ago.

Then one of the Warchiefs stepped forward.

"You have seen it."

His voice was steady, but the meaning behind it carried far more than simple acknowledgment.

"That is the strength of the being who now stands as the Young Warchief of the Bersuka Tribe."

Another Warchief continued immediately.

"Do not misunderstand what you witnessed."

He looked across the gathered youths, his gaze heavy.

"That was not a fair battle."

A third spoke, his tone colder.

"That was not even a battle."

The Shaman finally raised his head.

"That was domination."

The word settled deep into the hearts of everyone present.

Then one of the younger warriors spoke, unable to hold back.

"But... the former Bersuka Warchief..."

His voice trembled.

"He was the strongest among the tribes..."

A Warchief turned toward him.

"Yes."

The answer was simple.

"And even we..."

He paused.

Then spoke more firmly.

"We could not defeat him."

The gathering stirred.

Another Warchief stepped forward.

"You think his strength was exaggerated?"

He shook his head.

"It was not."

He lifted his hand slightly, as if recalling something distant.

"We have fought him."

"Not once."

"Not twice."

"Many times."

"Training clashes."

"Territorial disputes."

"Trial battles."

"Demonstrations of power."

His eyes darkened.

"And every time..."

He let the words hang for a moment.

"We lost."

The younger generation fell silent again.

Another Warchief added.

"He was not someone you could overcome through numbers."

Another voice followed.

"He was not someone you could outlast through endurance."

Another.

"He was not someone you could outthink through strategy."

Another.

"He was not someone you could overwhelm through coordination."

The Shaman spoke once more.

"He broke everything."

His voice carried a strange calm.

"Formations."

"Techniques."

"Magic."

"Even the will of those who stood before him."

The Warchiefs nodded one by one.

"We have seen warriors far stronger than you stand before him."

"We have seen them fall."

"We have seen them broken without resistance."

"We have seen them lose their courage before even making contact."

"We have seen entire groups collapse under his presence alone."

The words continued, each one heavier than the last.

"And yet..."

The first Warchief looked back at the empty space where the projection had been.

"He was killed."

A long breath escaped him.

"By that."

The younger generation did not speak.

They did not need to.

The memory was still clear.

Too clear.

Another voice from the crowd suddenly broke the silence.

"I... I saw something."

All eyes turned toward the speaker.

A young warrior stepped forward hesitantly.

"I was sent to the eastern side of this continent."

His voice shook, but he forced himself to continue.

"At first... everything was easy."

He swallowed.

"We hunted beasts."

"We trained."

"We grew stronger."

He clenched his fists.

"I thought this place was nothing."

His expression twisted slightly.

"Then... I found it."

Someone asked quietly.

"Found what?"

The young warrior’s face turned pale.

"The Bersuka."

The crowd stirred again.

He nodded quickly.

"Yes... their group..."

"They were ahead of us."

"They were stronger than us."

"I thought I could learn from them..."

His breathing became uneven.

"But when I arrived..."

He stopped.

Then forced the words out.

"They were all dead."

Silence.

"The ground was covered in blood."

"The beasts were gone."

"Everything was destroyed."

His eyes widened as if reliving it.

"And at the center..."

His voice dropped.

"The head of the Bersuka leader..."

His lips trembled.

"It was... impaled into the ground."

The image alone made several of the younger warriors step back.

"I did not stay."

He shook his head repeatedly.

"I did not dare stay."

"I ran."

"I ran without looking back."

Another voice spoke from the side.

"That’s not the only thing."

A second young warrior stepped forward.

"We tried to work together."

He glanced at the others.

"Different tribes."

"Different groups."

"We thought numbers would help."

He laughed weakly.

"It did not."

He looked down.

"We entered a forest."

His brows furrowed.

"At first, it looked normal."

"Trees."

"Paths."

"Shadows."

"But then..."

He inhaled sharply.

"The forest moved."

The crowd fell into silence once more.

"The ground beneath us changed."

"The trees... they were not still."

"They closed around us."

"They separated us."

"They trapped us."

His voice grew strained.

"We tried to escape."

"We tried to fight."

"We tried to regroup."

He shook his head.

"It did not matter."

"They kept coming."

"What?"

"The trees."

"They moved like living things."

"They crushed."

"They pierced."

"They dragged people away."

His hands trembled.

"I saw one of my companions get pulled into the ground."

"I saw another get pierced through the chest by roots."

"I saw someone try to burn everything... but the flames turned back on him."

His breathing became ragged.

"I ran."

"I did not stop."

"I did not look back."

He closed his eyes tightly.

"I was the only one who made it out."

Another voice spoke from the back.

"That forest..."

"I saw it too."

A third young warrior stepped forward.

"But that’s not the worst."

Everyone looked at him.

He swallowed.

"We found a ruin."

"Stone structures."

"Old carvings."

"It looked abandoned."

He laughed bitterly.

"It was not."

He raised his hand slightly.

"There was a statue."

"A single figure carved from stone."

"It stood at the center."

"We approached carefully."

"We thought it was just a relic."

He closed his eyes briefly.

"The moment we stepped closer..."

His body stiffened.

"We could not move."

The words came out slowly.

"Our bodies froze."

"Our mana stopped flowing."

"Our thoughts slowed."

His voice trembled.

"We tried to activate Berserk Mode."

"It did not respond."

The shock in his voice was clear.

"It did not respond at all."

The crowd reacted immediately.

"That’s impossible."

He shook his head.

"I know."

"But it happened."

He continued.

"We stood there."

"Unable to move."

"Unable to fight."

"Unable to run."

His breathing became shallow.

"And then..."

He hesitated.

"A beast charged through the ruins."

"It crashed into the statue."

"The impact broke something."

"Our bodies released."

"We ran."

He clenched his fists.

"We ran as fast as we could."

His voice lowered.

"I did not look back."

"But I heard them."

His eyes darkened.

"My companions..."

"They did not all make it."

Silence followed again.

More voices began to rise.

Each one carried a different story.

A different horror.

"We encountered a lake that swallowed those who touched it."

"A mountain that echoed voices until people lost their minds."

"A cave where shadows moved without light."

"A valley where the ground itself devoured anything that stepped on it."

"A beast that split into copies when attacked."

"A storm that burned instead of soaked."

A pattern began to form.

None of these places were normal.

None of these encounters were simple.

And yet—

They all existed within the same continent.

The same place they had called a training ground.

The same place they had once believed was weak.

The same place where the new Bersuka Young Warchief now walked freely.

If Clay were present, he would recognize parts of these stories.

Fragments.

Hints.

Pieces of something larger.

Enemies.

Obstacles.

For others, they were nightmares.

For him, they were simply things that existed.

The Warchiefs listened to all of it without interruption.

Then the Shaman stepped forward again.

"This continent..."

He paused.

"Is not simple."

One of the Warchiefs nodded.

"And with an existence like the new Young Warchief..."

Another added.

"It is likely..."

"There are more like him."

The words struck deeper than anything before.

The younger generation felt it clearly.

Fear.

Not just of one being.

But of the possibility that he was not alone.

The Shaman closed his eyes briefly.

Then opened them again with resolve.

"Now..."

His voice carried authority once more.

"This is what we will do."