Chapter 53 Instinct: This is the most cost-effective approach for him personally...

The unexpected happened at this time.

Surrounded by numerous monsters, Tarasco, already exhausted from the relentless battle, failed to notice the hidden danger in time.

When a medium-sized Tibetan scorpion charged at you, its stinger raised high, it was already too late.

Catherine's pupils widened instantly in terror. She hadn't forgotten the "Devil's Forest Monster Compendium" she had memorized before, so she knew clearly that the Hidden Scorpion moved extremely fast, and when you spotted it, it often meant that your life had already begun its countdown.

Admittedly, given the scorpion's movement direction, its stinger would only strike Tarlasco in front of him first, and Tarlasco could use this "armor" to gain enough time to dodge and counterattack.

Catherine understood that this was the most cost-effective counterattack plan for him.

Even if he did that, she wouldn't be angry, because if it were her, she would also choose that option decisively, without even the slightest hesitation.

However, after less than a second of reaction time...

Catherine was unexpectedly thrown out, and the scene before her eyes transformed into a battle between witches and monsters.

She saw the witch turn around at the sound of the wind beside her, then quickly stop her attack and raise her hand with slight surprise. Several vines stretched out and gently caught her body.

In such a short time, this could only be Tarasco's instinctive choice.

Catherine took a deep breath; she could almost hear the sound of a scorpion's stinger piercing his abdomen behind her. An ominous blue color instantly spread rapidly along his wound.

Everything happened quickly. After Catherine was caught by the witch, she felt a cool sensation on her face. When she raised her hand to wipe it, her fingertips were covered in a faint, watery red stain.

The witch, panting, spoke in a tone that was unusually no longer playful: "...This is the little spider's blood."

These words, combined with the scene before her, made Catherine feel her temples throbbing violently. Everything before her eyes was distorted and dizzying, and the sounds around her became distant and unreal.

She seemed to hear the witch beside her gasp in surprise, but her consciousness was no longer clear; everything around her felt unreal, like a dream. Soon, she fell into a deep coma…

When she opened her eyes again, Catherine's eyes were filled with confusion.

The witch had placed her aside after discovering that the spider eggs inside her had unexpectedly awakened, with a few swaying vines surrounding her as makeshift "guardians."

Extremely frustrated, Catherine chopped down all the writhing vines in front of her, and then, like a sharp throwing knife, launched herself into the horde of monsters.

At first, the commotion here didn't attract any attention from anyone else.

But as more and more magical beasts fell to the blades of Catherine's sharp infantry, even those controlled by the mark began to panic and scatter in all directions. A large circular clearing appeared in front of Catherine, and only then did everyone notice her.

At this point, Catherine no longer looked like a human.

She looked remarkably like an alien spider, but larger than Tarasco. Her hands hung at her sides, her fingernails sharp and long, appearing fragile like human nails. But a closer look revealed that each finger was covered in blood.

Blood slid down her fingernails under gravity and dripped onto the ground. Combined with the corpses of the surrounding monsters, it was clear that the strength of her hands was not to be underestimated.

Catherine seemed to only then realize that there were no more magical beasts around her to kill.

She raised her head and tilted it to one side.

His blank gaze swept around, then randomly locked onto a direction and charged forward once more.

The monsters screamed and scattered in all directions, with Catherine hot on their heels. The tide of battle had turned, and the scene was even somewhat bizarrely comical, but none of the humans or monsters present could laugh.

The witch, finally free, watched Catherine chase after the monster, and a smile slowly spread across her face.

Her gaze towards Catherine was filled with satisfaction, as if she were looking at a perfect work of art—and the artist of that work was herself. How could this not bring joy?

This time, Catherine's transformation lasted longer than the previous ones. Even after she had completely wiped out all the monsters in the second wave of monsters, she still did not seem to be about to collapse from exhaustion.

She was slightly out of breath, staring blankly in one direction.

The surrounding humans dared not approach; they spread out in a large circular area centered on Catherine.

She had killed the beast with incredible speed, and now she seemed rather abnormal. They couldn't be sure whether, once they got closer, she would see them as her own kind or as enemies, and kill them like she had killed the monsters.

Finally, the witch stepped forward. As soon as she got close, Catherine instinctively raised her pistol, intending to strike her.

But the witch merely waved her hand lightly, and Catherine froze on the spot, then collapsed as if she had fallen into a deep sleep in an instant. The foot soldiers, claws, and spider bodies that had grown out of her skin quickly faded and melted into the air.

She transformed back into a normal human.

Most of the humans around her were still hesitant to approach, except for those who had spent some time with Catherine in the camp before, who stepped forward to see her.

"She just passed out from exhaustion."

The witch reached out and tucked Catherine's sweat-soaked, smeared hair behind her ear. As if afraid of waking her, she spoke in a low voice.

Among the humans standing to the side, Joan couldn't help but purse her lips at the sight. She felt that the witch at this moment seemed to radiate a kind of... "maternal glow"?

She shook her head, banishing the bizarre, almost terrifying thought from her mind.

After one wave of monsters ended, everyone looked extremely disheveled; almost no one appeared relaxed. They needed time to rest, but no one could guarantee that another wave of monsters wouldn't come.

So we need to get out of here first.

They supported each other as they prepared to enter the town ahead and then make further plans.

The witch raised her palm upwards, and thousands of vines instantly burst forth from the ground, binding those who were seriously injured, unconscious, or otherwise unable to move, and headed towards the town. The others, whose injuries were not so severe, limped along with the group, relying on the arms of their companions.

Even though they were already very tired, none of them wanted to slow down the others at this time.

It was already night. As expected, when they entered the town, they found the streets quiet and most of the shops on both sides of the road closed.

They searched for a long time before finally finding a hotel that was still open in an inconspicuous place.

The group went inside, waking the clerk who had been dozing off at the counter. He looked up groggily and was startled by the blood-stained mess of the group, instantly snapping him awake.

The waiter forced himself to remain calm and checked them in one by one. Only after all the guests had gone upstairs did he wipe the sweat from his forehead and sit back down, his legs weak.

Upon reaching the upper floor, the witch casually glanced at the numbers on the doorplates, then with a flick of her wrist, a gust of wind swept past them, instantly blowing open the doors to the rooms they had booked.

Those who were unconscious or unable to move were pulled out of thin air by the witch and thrown onto the bed like trash—including Tarasco, since a ferocious beast like an alien spider entering an ordinary inn would terrify anyone.

The rest of the people who were still able to walk shuddered at the sight of the witch's violent actions, and then a feeling of relief welled up inside them.

Thankfully, they can still walk. Otherwise, they would have been part of that pile of "garbage".

After the witch finished throwing all those people away, she clapped her hands, turned around, and suddenly threw out a sentence at a group of humans behind her who were supporting each other but looked like they were huddling together for warmth.

"I think we should go our separate ways from now on."

A seemingly casual remark stirred up a great deal of excitement among the crowd.

The people in the hallway had different expressions, but the negative emotions of fear, helplessness, and unease were the most prevalent.

However, the thought of rebuttal was quickly extinguished by reason. Good heavens! The person in front of her was a witch who could crush them as easily as an ant—think of the previous monster horde! For most of the battle, she attracted the most firepower yet remained unscathed, and in the end, she subdued that strange woman who had suddenly turned into an alien spider with a simple wave of her hand.

No one dared to be the first to raise the question.

Benson glanced around at the crowd.

He knew perfectly well that no one around him would speak first. If this situation continued long enough, the witch's words would become the final verdict, and then tomorrow at dawn, after everyone had rested, they would go their separate ways.

He frowned, pursing his lips, unsure whether to open his mouth.

As time ticked by, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Until finally, the air seemed to solidify into a thick, suffocating jam. Benson watched as the witch curled her lips into a smile, her red lips parting slightly as if she were about to speak…

At that moment, he still spoke.

"However, I feel that our situation seems to be..."

His voice sounded like it was being forced out of his throat; it was initially hoarse and unpleasant, but after a few more words, it improved considerably.

"It doesn't seem appropriate to split up."