Talented Martial Hero novel Chapter 617

The gray chain surged toward Darren, its rattling sound like the din of an avalanche.

Darren went into a frenzy as he tried to dodge, but the undulating fetter seemed to know what he was thinking and adjusted its course.

He was trapped in the void with this thing. As it had been before, no matter how he tried to escape, he was running on the same spot.

Before he knew it, the chain had wrapped itself around him several times.

The next instant it tightened, and his limbs couldn't move. He was caught. Then he was moving, being dragged along behind the armored clay figurine as it ponderously approached the space cracks.

Darren was in a cold sweat.

Few things could put such a fear into him. But now, before this thing's terrible might, he was as vulnerable as any ordinary man.

Thick, dangerous-looking clouds gathered in the sky. A frigid wind rolled across the landscape, stinging Darren's face and sending shudders through his body.

Before him, the black space crack loomed like the mouth of some giant, ferocious monster, getting ready to swallow him alive.

As they came closer, Darren peered inside the space crack.

At the far end of the dark expanse, he beheld what seemed to be a field of pinpoints of light. It looked like nothing so much as a star-filled night sky.

"Is... Is that another world?" he breathed in astonishment.

The terrific clattering of more chains interrupted his thoughts.

The armored clay figurine stopped, staring blankly into the space crack as though waiting for something.

Meanwhile, the noise was coming closer and closer.

"What a horrible sound!" he cried, though his own voice was swallowed up in it.

It was a titanic din, like the collision of mountains.

A moment passed. Just as Darren began to think the noise would drive him mad, he happened to look into the space crack again. What he saw made him sweat harder than before.

From the distant starry void came an entire crowd of beings; all of them were clay figurines like the one that had captured Darren.

They were similarly armored, but the dark auras that surrounded each of them were even stronger and more intimidating than that of the first one.

Dozens of clay figurines formed a team, and each team pulled a gray chain that was ten feet thick. There looked to be total of eighteen groups.

Faced with this sight, Darren's alarm over his own capture was overpowered by sheer curiosity. Someone or something was being held captive by those eighteen enormous fetters.

The questions of who or what that was, and why, now utterly absorbed Darren's mind.

He and his captor waited for two hours, motionless as they watched the bizarre procession moving under the starry sky.

By the time two hours had passed, two hundred feet of the chains had gone by.

Their holders seemed to be struggling, as a few hundred mortals would if tasked with carrying a stone weighing tens of thousands of pounds.

Interestingly, the chains gradually thinned out as one went farther down their length.

By the time the end was reached, they were small enough to bind an ordinary man.

To Darren's shock, that turned out to be exactly what they were doing.

The captive was not much to look at: a withered old man whose bowed head was veiled by his long, disheveled mess of gray hair. His clothing, some kind of gray linen, was in tatters.

All in all, he looked like nothing more than a beggar.

"Who in the world is that?" Darren asked himself. "How could it possibly take all of these armored clay figurines to capture and hold him?"

Darren himself had the combat power of a seven-star grand warrior on the top level. He could hardly withstand a single blow from the clay figurine before him. It was so strong, in fact, that he couldn't even move once it had tied him up.

Yet this one was much weaker than any of those that had appeared under the starry sky.

And eighteen teams of them were needed to imprison a beggar? Impossible.

Despite his lowly appearance, this old man obviously possessed unimaginable power.

Darren could not help but speculate. 'Is he a senior holy warrior? Or the holy emperor?'

Then again, the witcher had said that there was no holy emperor in this world, so how could he be that?

Hundreds of the clay figurines moved along with the old man. Darren realized then that if he waited too long, they would all pass him by.

If he let that happen, he might never see that mysterious prisoner again. More pressingly, Darren was still a prisoner himself, and he didn't want to find out what these creatures intended to do with him.

Unable to think of anything else he could try, Darren mentally commanded his sword and blade cores to move.