Chapter 215: Conflicts

Chapter 215: ConflictsThe severed tentacle slammed into the ground beside Bruce, the force rattling his bones. Relief barely had a moment to sink in before dread surged through him again.

Before his eyes, the octopus-Werewolf hybrid’s mutilated limb regenerated almost instantly, growing back as if nothing had ever happened.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me!" Bruce gasped, his voice shaking.

They had known these mutated beasts were dangerous, but this—this was something else.

The higher-level creatures didn’t just fight—they were practically invincible with regeneration capabilities far beyond what anyone had anticipated.

Lyra, now squared off against the towering creature, looked like an ant facing a giant, even inside her sleek mecha.

Without warning, the beast launched a deadly attack, spewing a corrosive green liquid that rained down from above.

The acid splattered across the battlefield, sizzling through mecha armor like it was paper. Those fortunate enough to only catch a few drops retreated quickly, but those directly doused were disintegrated, leaving nothing behind—not even the bones.

Reacting with lightning speed, Lyra launched herself out of her mecha before it could be hit. She summoned shimmering energy shields beneath her feet like stepping stones in midair.

Then, she raced toward the beast’s head, her energy blades flashing in her hands.

Moving with deadly precision, she slashed through the air, her blades cutting so swiftly that only streaks of light could be seen.

In one fluid motion, she sliced through the creature’s toxic-spewing mouth, severing it cleanly.

The beast immediately began to regenerate, its tissue knitting together grotesquely. But Lyra wasn’t done.

She hurled a concentrated surge of deep green energy into the gaping wound.

The regeneration process went haywire, causing the beast’s body to swell and contort, mutating uncontrollably.

Within seconds, the creature exploded in a violent display of blood and flesh, its remains splattering across the battlefield in a grotesque rain of gore.

Watching from the shadows, Ivo’s dull gray eyes gleamed with a strange mix of anger and excitement.

"So, the rumors are true..." he muttered under his breath.

His moment of stillness didn’t last long.

A chill crept down his spine as Lyra’s gaze locked onto him, sharp and unrelenting.

Without wasting a second, he tapped the side of the beast he was riding. It spread its enormous wings and shot into the sky, carrying Ivo away in a desperate attempt to escape.

"Target sighted—it’s Ivo!" Wolf’s voice erupted over the comms, excitement bleeding through his usually calm demeanor. "Everyone, after him!"

But before they could act, one of the Legion of Nebulae’s commanders cut in, "Ivo is our target. You handle the beasts!"

The power-hungry faction was looking to snatch the credit for themselves.

’Damn them’

, Wolf cursed silently. He knew exactly what the Nebulae commander was playing at—they wanted to claim the glory, leaving the rest to clean up the chaos.

Wolf wasn’t about to let that happen, not after everything his team had sacrificed.

"We’ve already neutralized most of the threat," Wolf shot back. "You’ve got the resources to finish the job. We’re going after Ivo!"

With that, Wolf didn’t wait for a response. He and the remaining T9 members jumped onto their hoverboards and shot off in pursuit of Ivo.

There was no way they were going to let the leader of the Psycos slip through their fingers.

Reluctantly, the Nebulae commander barked orders for his troops to assist. They couldn’t afford to lose face now.

High above, Ivo’s monstrous mount soared over the vast plains, its wings cutting through the air with terrifying speed. Behind him, soldiers in white uniforms and various squads followed closely, racing to capture the fleeing criminal mastermind.

"We need to take down that beast before it gets too far!" Wolf’s voice crackled over the comms, urgency creeping into his tone as they struggled to keep pace.

Suddenly, a blur shot past Wolf, leaving him squinting in surprise.

It was Lyra.

"That rookie is really trying to show off," Wolf muttered under his breath, pushing his board to its limit to keep up.

Lyra, undeterred and single-minded in her focus, closed in on the creature.

Reaching out with her psychokinesis, she made contact with the beast’s mind.

The second Ivo sensed her intrusion, it was already too late—Lyra wrested control from him in a heartbeat.

The creature, now confused and disoriented, thrashed wildly in mid-air before spiraling out of control. It plummeted toward the ground, dragging Ivo down with it, both crashing into the dense forest below.

A tense silence fell over the air as every soldier locked their sights on the fallen target. They dived toward the forest like hawks on wounded prey.

Lyra hit the ground first, but as she readied herself to move in, Wolf’s furious voice blasted through her earpiece. "Lyra, stand down! I ORDER you not to act alone!"

’Now’s not the time for this,’ Lyra thought bitterly, ignoring the command.

She rushed forward, weaving between the trees. Her instincts screamed that time was running out.

The forest felt wrong, heavy with a strange, unnatural tension.

She wasn’t the only one who felt it. Wolf and his team stormed into the clearing just behind her, their boots crunching on the undergrowth.

"You reckless fool!" Wolf thundered, stomping toward her. He grabbed her arm harshly, his large frame towering over her like a scolding parent. "When you’re under my command, you follow orders. Or I swear, you’ll regret it."

His voice dripped with anger, but as he met Lyra’s eyes—cold, unreadable, like the depths of a dark ocean—his grip slackened. A shiver ran down his spine.

Lyra’s reply was low, but firm. "Understood, sir."

Wolf’s grip on Lyra’s arm tightened, his voice dripping with condescension as he glared at her. "Your eyes say otherwise," he muttered, suspicion etched into every word.

Lyra’s ambition and undeniable strength gnawed at his insecurities, threatening his authority in ways he could barely admit to himself.

Before he could dig deeper into his interrogation, one of his soldiers interrupted with an urgent report. "Sir, Ivo is just up ahead."

Seizing the opportunity to redirect the situation, Lyra kept her expression neutral as Wolf released her arm.

With a patronizing smirk, he patted her cheek mockingly. "Good choice," he sneered.

Then he hopped back onto his hoverboard, speeding ahead.

He was confident that Ivo would be easy prey. In his mind, the Psycos leader was nothing more than a weak beast-speaker, no match for his team.

Lyra, ever composed, fell in line behind the others, maintaining a low profile.