The Bigshot's Superstar Wife

Chapter 42: Another Fight!

The rain had eased into a steady drizzle as the night deepened, the rhythmic sound against the tents providing a fragile sense of calm.

However, the weight of unease hung thick in the air.

Athena and Mors stood just outside their shared tent, their gazes fixed on the faint glow of the remaining operational camera bots stationed around the unconscious crew.

A flicker of motion caught Mors’ attention. "Someone’s coming," he said, his voice low but alert.

Athena turned toward the direction of the movement. Emerging from the shadowed forest, four figures stumbled into view, their exhaustion evident in the way they carried themselves.

They were drenched and battered, their clothes torn and muddied from whatever trials they had faced to reach the site.

"Finally, some others made it," Athena murmured, relief tinged with suspicion.

Mors stepped forward, raising a hand in greeting. "Who’s there?"

One of the figures, a man with a deep gash across his arm, called back. "Participants. We’ve been walking for hours. Are we the last to arrive?"

Athena shook her head. "No. There are still others unaccounted for."

The group reached the clearing, their breaths heavy.

One of them, a young woman clutching her side, asked, "What happened here? Why is everyone...?" Her voice trailed off as she noticed the unconscious crew.

"They’ve been affected by spores from infected plants," Mors explained. "We’re monitoring them, but so far, they haven’t woken up."

A tense silence fell over the group as the implications sank in.

"Are we safe here?" another participant asked, his eyes darting nervously to the dark forest beyond.

"As safe as we can be for now," Athena said. "Get some rest. We’ll reassess in the morning."

The newcomers found spare tents and settled in, their exhaustion overtaking their fear.

Inside their tent, Athena and Mors sat cross-legged, the dim light of a portable lamp casting shadows on the fabric walls.

Athena tinkered with the tablet connected to the camera bots, her brows furrowed.

When can we go home?

The peace didn’t last.

A loud, unnatural screech shattered the morning stillness, reverberating through the trees.

Mors bolted upright, already reaching for his weapon, while Athena grabbed her sword from its space.

Outside, the air was tense, the wind carrying a faint, sickly odor that made her stomach churn.

"They’re here," Mors said grimly, his voice steady despite the tension.

Athena cast a quick glance at the tents of the other four who had arrived last night. "Did they wake up? They can’t just be hiding in fear, right?"

Mors shook his head as they moved into position. "No, they fell unconscious sometime during the night. Probably the same spores that affected the crew."

Athena frowned but said nothing, focusing instead on the sky above.

A shadow loomed, large and menacing, followed by the screeches of infected creatures that seemed to echo from all directions.

Her breath hitched as the first wave of flying beasts descended.

These creatures, once majestic birds, now had rotting flesh clinging to their bones, with eyes glowing an unnatural crimson.

Their wings, tattered yet strong, sent gusts of foul-smelling air as they swooped down.

"This is new," Athena muttered, her grip on her sword tightening.

"Flying Zergs," Mors said, his expression dark. "They’re faster and harder to hit. Watch the skies."

The beasts dove toward them, talons extended, their screeches deafening. Athena slashed upward with her sword, its dark energy cleaving through the first creature.

The moment it perished, its body dissolved into a flurry of red butterflies that scattered into the mist.

Mors wielded his weapon with deadly precision, bringing down one after another. "Stay close," he barked.

Athena gritted her teeth, her movements swift and fluid. Each strike was deliberate, her sword feeding on the dark core of the fallen beasts.

The air shimmered with glowing butterflies, their eerie beauty starkly contrasting the violence of the battle once again.