Boonie Bears: Another World Fantasy

The soldiers slowly lowered their weapons.

Salta's expression was grave as he solemnly surveyed the scene of devastation before him. Thick smoke billowed, obscuring the sky, and flames writhed like venomous snakes, devouring everything in their path. The town center was a disaster zone, entire buildings ruthlessly destroyed, leaving only rubble. Burning vehicles, charred and charred, emitted a pungent odor. The wreckage of crashed helicopters lay scattered across the streets, testifying to the recent carnage.

Shockingly, the unarmed deer tribe easily razed the town to the ground. Even more terrifying, they seemed completely unharmed…

Salta was filled with confusion. He asked her in his broken Deer Tribe language, "Why did you lead her to the town? You've already maximized the damage."

Naya avoided his piercing gaze, her heart filled with conflict. On one hand, she felt guilty for the damage she had caused, and on the other hand, she felt helpless about her inability to control her power.

As her gaze swept over the houses damaged because of her actions, a wave of guilt washed over her. These people's warm homes were now ruins.

Sharp was surprised to hear Salta speak the Deer Tribe language. He had only just met this man, and instinctively pulled Naya back two steps.

"How come you can speak the Deer Tribe language? Are you also a Deer Tribe member?" Sharp's eyes flickered with suspicion.

"It's a long story, involving some things you don't know." He clearly refused to answer the question Sharp had thrown his way. "Although I don't know who you are, take her away first; she's already very weak." His tone carried a hint of helplessness and exhaustion.

"Leave? Hahahaha, how do you leave? On foot?" A voice like that of a devil whispered. Just then, silver threads surged from all directions, like nimble snakes, and in the blink of an eye, they wrapped around the soldiers around Salta.

Obeying Lefère's commands, the threads tightly bound their bodies, hurling them high into the air. Then, Lefère manipulated the silver threads, slicing the falling soldiers to pieces with precision and cruelty, like cutting meat. Blood gushed forth in fountains, staining every inch of the ground crimson.

The bloody scene before her was too much for Zhao Lin to bear. She froze on the spot, thick blood covering half of her face. Her previously strong exterior completely crumbled at that moment.

Looking at their disheveled state, Lefebvre felt a surge of intense satisfaction. She reveled in the pleasure of tormenting them, a sinister smile spreading across her face: "What's wrong, little reporter? Weren't you so tough just now? Why are you so scared now?"

Salta raised his automatic rifle without hesitation, the muzzle spitting flames as he unleashed a torrent of deadly bullets at Lefère.

"Hahahaha... Everyone, it's been so long since I've had this much fun... It's just a pity that your disappointing performance has forced this game to end prematurely." Lefie let out a burst of maniacal laughter. At the same time, countless threads, as if possessed by life, rapidly converged and intertwined, instantly forming a pair of enormous and powerful hands. With thunderous force, they shoved aside the people blocking Naya's path. Sharp and the others were caught off guard and were knocked flat on their backs. Immediately afterward, these giant hands gripped Naya like iron clamps, rendering her completely immobile. Finally, Lefie effortlessly lifted Naya like a chick and brought her to him, binding her securely with strong threads.

“Tell me, after squeezing every last drop of value out of you, how will Mus treat you? Hahaha…” She hooked Naya’s chin with her sharp nails and said mockingly. Naya struggled slightly, but that seemingly slight movement made Lefi easily realize her intention—her left hand was quietly moving towards the dagger hanging at her waist.

"Don't even think about it, little darling," Lefie chuckled softly, tightening the silk threads in her hands. The threads were wrapped tightly around Naya's body, as if trying to crush every bone in her body. Naya's face turned pale with pain, but she continued to endure.

“I’m growing to like your stubbornness more and more,” Lefie whispered in Naya’s ear, her nails tracing the lines of her battle-damaged armor. “But that’s not up to you.”

"Let her go!" Seeing this, Sharp picked up Salta's dropped automatic rifle. His hands trembled uncontrollably from the cuts on his fingers, blood trickling down his fingertips and dripping onto the cold ground. Never having held a gun before, he struggled to steady himself, his trembling fingers gripping the handle tightly, trying to keep the muzzle level.

Damn it, what am I trembling about? Fear and anger intertwined in his heart, making him even more conflicted.

"Ah, it's your little boyfriend." Lefie seemed completely unmoved.

Sharp's eyes blazed with fury, as if they wanted to set the whole world ablaze. "Let her go," he gritted his teeth, squeezing out each word.

“Sharp.” Naya’s voice came, so faint it was almost inaudible. Sharp’s gaze instantly shifted to Naya, his anger replaced by concern and worry. “I’m going to kill you—” His words were interrupted by Naya’s soft call. “It’s not her, Sharp.” Tears welled up in Naya’s eyes, streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes revealed despair and pain, heartbreaking to behold.

Sharp stared blankly at Naya, her tears piercing his heart like knives.

“I told you,” Naya’s voice seemed to come from a distant place, filled with endless sorrow. Sharp remembered that night not long after he arrived, when Naya had confided in him about the Golden Antlers, but he hadn’t paid attention then. Now, he finally understood Naya’s pain.

“I told you that night,” Naya repeated softly, her voice already hoarse.

She hoped he could understand her choice.

Immediately afterwards, Sharp reluctantly and slowly moved the muzzle of his gun, aiming it at the person he couldn't even look at.

“Shoot!” Lefie urged him. She knew perfectly well what Naya’s words meant.

Faced with this situation, Sharp could only grit his teeth, his voice filled with extreme pain: "I told you I can't do it..."

However, Naya looked directly into his eyes, forcing a faint smile: "Thank you, Sharp. Thank you for your understanding all this time. You helped me break free from those heavy shackles..." Her voice was soft, as if telling a story hidden deep in her heart.

“If things continue like this, if I die…” she continued softly, a hint of relief in her voice, “your life should return to normal, right?”

Hearing this, Sharp felt a lump in his throat, and his eyes instantly welled up with tears. No, no, I absolutely can't cry. He silently told himself this, forcing himself to hold back the tears that were already welling up.

Perhaps this would be the last time he heard Naya say such words, but this moment was deeply imprinted in his heart and became an eternal memory.

“If you really can’t hold on any longer, don’t force yourself. It’s still the same condition: kill her with your own hands, and you can go back to real life and reunite with your sister.” Short-haired Sharp’s words echoed in his ears.

Both of them closed their eyes tightly, unable to bear witnessing what was about to happen. Naya took a deep breath, summoning all her courage, and waited for the gunshot. Just then, a crisp trigger click reached Naya's ears, followed by a suffocating feeling...

*Whoosh*—A dazzling light flashed across Sharp's right shoulder, and in an instant, flesh and blood flew everywhere. His right arm seemed to have been torn off by an invisible force! Intense pain surged like a tidal wave, but he didn't even have time to feel the pain. He only felt that the right side of his body suddenly became incredibly light.

"Naya!!" Zhao Lin finally came to her senses. She covered her mouth tightly with her hand, tears streaming down her face. Salta, who had been silently guarding her side and wiping the blood off her face, was also stunned by the horrific scene before her.

Sharp stared wide-eyed at his severed right arm, then slowly turned his gaze forward. There, on Naya's petite body, lay a horrifying, gaping wound; a sword capable of changing shape at will had mercilessly pierced her chest, going straight through. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Naya's eyes began to glaze over, and the breath of life was rapidly draining from her body. With her last ounce of strength, she tried to reach out and grab something, but ultimately her hand fell limply to the ground.

"I quite like him."

A deep sound came from behind Lefève, and a tall man with long hair emerged from the shadows. In the dim light, his silvery-white hair fluttered in the wind. His fierce eyes accentuated his cool and handsome face, as if everything was under his control.

Mus had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

"Chief." The previously aggressive Lefie immediately became like a docile kitten, quickly making way for Mus.

Mus walked step by step toward Sharp, who lay in a pool of blood. His eyes held an indescribable coldness. "She refused to tell you the true whereabouts of the Golden Antlers even in death." He gently wiped the longsword stained with Naya's blood, his movements practiced and elegant, as if handling a precious work of art. Then, he skillfully sheathed the sword, making a crisp sound.

Moose's gaze never left Sharp, trying to see through his body to uncover the secrets hidden deep within. "She already planted the golden antlers in your body through her blood, kid, on the night you almost got stabbed to death."

The words exploded in Sharp's mind. He tried to recall that life-or-death night, but the memory was hazy. In his hazy recollection, he saw Naya kneeling beside him, her hands clasped together, muttering incantations. Suddenly, a dazzling golden silhouette flashed by, filling in the gap in his memory.

Without hesitation, Naya picked up the knife and cut her palm. Blood gushed from the wound, and she carefully dripped it into his mouth. Each drop of blood carried hope and life force—her innate mission.

As time went by, his health gradually improved. However, Naya grew weaker day by day.

Why? Why hadn't he noticed Naya's sacrifices before? Why hadn't he cherished this deep affection? He closed his eyes in anguish.

Moose saw through Sharp's thoughts. He smiled, but his smile carried a hint of pity for the weak. "Do you think you can easily escape the clutches of fate? If it weren't for the Golden Antlers, you would already be in your coffin. Why would this little girl go to such lengths to help you out of this predicament? It chose you, and whether you like it or not, that's an unchangeable fact."

As they spoke, Sharp's right arm began to grow new tissue at a visible rate. The broken bone was also regenerating, with new skin and muscles tightly wrapping around the new skeleton.

It is the power of the golden antlers.

A huge shadow suddenly loomed over Sharp. Muss's voice came from above: "What a pity. She naively thought she could hold out until the end of this charade, but she didn't realize that every time she used the last bit of power she had left, she was actually burning her own life force. Didn't you see that all along?"

Why didn't I notice? When she was alone, her expression was sad. Or did I notice but pretend not to?

At this moment, gazing at Naya's gradually cooling body, she appeared as fragile as a puppet with its strings cut. Her once bright and captivating eyes had lost all their luster, becoming dull and lifeless. It was as if the essence of life had been drained from her, leaving only an empty shell.

Sharp had cried all his tears. His body trembled, and with all his might, he crawled forward with his extremely weak limbs, each step a struggle against fate. Finally, he reached her side, then slowly raised his head and gently pressed his cheek against her shoulder.

This time, however, Naya could no longer offer him the warm comfort she usually did. She could only watch Sharp silently, unable to feel the deep pain in his heart.

Thunder rumbled in the distance again.