I Evolve 10,000 Times Faster

The cafe was small, hidden away on a side street close to their hotel. It had outdoor seating, cheap pastries, and nobody inside who cared about ranks or military designations.

Team Soup had claimed the corner table, all four chairs occupied. A plate of half-eaten pastries was in the middle, along with three mugs of tea and one mug of something Renna insisted was hot chocolate but looked suspiciously like soup.

"It IS hot chocolate," Renna said, stirring it aggressively. "They just make it weird here."

"That is broth," Lyra said.

"It’s chocolate broth."

"That’s not a thing."

"It is now. I’m pioneering it."

Emric ignored both of them. He had a pastry in one hand and a small notebook in the other, sketching formation diagrams with a stubby pencil. "If we’re deploying to Opium, we need to establish squad rotations. Combat shifts of four hours maximum, with two-hour rest cycles between engagements. Anything beyond that risks cognitive fatigue."

"We haven’t even gotten the briefing yet," Holden said.

"I’m preparing ahead. Proactivity reduces operational failure by approximately thirty percent."

"Did you make that number up?"

"It’s from a peer-reviewed military journal."

"Did you read a peer-reviewed military journal?"

"Three of them. Last night."

Holden laughed and leaned back in his chair. The Capital buzzed around them, Vanguard patrols walking the streets in neat formations while citizens moved with cautious purpose, still adjusting to the new regime. But life was returning. Market stalls were opening, and kids were playing in a park across the street.

It felt normal. Almost.

Then Maeve’s tablet screamed.

waaaah. waaaah. waaaah.

Every head at the table turned.

Maeve was sitting at the table next to them, where she always sat, close enough to hear everything but far enough to have her own workspace. Her tablet was propped against a sugar bowl, and the screen was flashing solid red.

Her face went white.

"Holden."

The way she said his name made his stomach drop.

"What is it?"

She didn’t answer. Her fingers were already flying across the screen, punching through security protocols and encryption layers with a speed that would have impressed military intelligence officers. The tablet’s screen shifted from the red alert to a satellite interface as she tapped through three authentication walls, hijacked the national satellite feed, and pulled up the live overhead.

Then she slammed the tablet down in front of him.

"Look at this."

Holden looked.

The satellite image showed the Demon Mouth Outpost. He recognized the layout: the muddy trenches and watchtowers. He had spent weeks there, fighting in the rain and hunting beasts.

It was gone.

The trenches had collapsed. The walls were crumbled, the watchtowers toppled, and fires burned across the compound in scattered pockets of orange flame.

And in the center of the destruction, where the main courtyard used to be, there was a hole.

A perfect circle of absolute blackness, swirling like a hurricane made of ink. It was huge. The satellite image had to zoom out three times before the edges of the portal fit on screen.

And things were coming out of it.

Millions of them.

A literal ocean of corrupted monsters poured from the portal in an unending tide: black shapes, twisted forms, things with too many legs, too many eyes, too many teeth. Rank 1 fodder in the thousands. Rank 2 brutes in the hundreds. And deeper in the swarm were shapes that were bigger.

The swarm spread across the landscape, consuming everything it touched. Trees, roads, rivers, all gone.

Renna’s hot chocolate tipped over. She didn’t notice.

"What the hell is that," she whispered.

Emric’s notebook slipped from his fingers. His face had gone pale.

"The Demon Mouth Outpost," he stammered. "The defensive line is gone. The entire fortified position is just gone. Based on the satellite scale, that portal is approximately three kilometers in diameter. The monster density is, I can’t even calculate the density. It’s too high. The numbers are beyond anything I’ve ever..."

He trailed off, his mouth still moving even though the words had stopped.

Lyra stood up slowly as she stared at the screen.

"That’s not a rift," she said. "That’s a permanent gateway. It’s not closing."

The tablet crackled. Not the satellite feed, but the emergency radio channel. It was open, and someone was on the other end, screaming.

"ALL UNITS, ALL UNITS, THIS IS CAPTAIN VENUS OF THE DEMON MOUTH OUTPOST. WE ARE OVERRUN. I REPEAT, WE ARE OVERRUN. THE PORTAL IS ACTIVE AND EXPANDING. ENEMY FORCES EXCEED ESTIMATED CAPACITY BY SEVERAL ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE. WE HAVE LOST THE EASTERN TRENCH. WESTERN WALL IS COMPROMISED. AMMUNITION IS CRITICAL. WE NEED IMMEDIATE REINFORCEMENTS. ANY ACADEMY FORCES, ANY MILITARY UNITS, ANYONE WHO CAN HOLD A WEAPON. WE ARE NOT GOING TO LAST ANOTHER HOUR. MAY THE GODS HELP US ALL."

crackle.

The transmission cut to static, then looped.

The cafe had gone silent. Other patrons were looking at their own devices as word spread. Phones, tablets, communication crystals. Everyone was getting the same feed.

Then the Capital sirens started.

wooo. wooo. wooo.

People on the street stopped moving and looked up. The Vanguard patrols broke into sprints, heading toward the palace, while shop owners pulled down their shutters and parents grabbed their children.

Maeve’s radio crackled again. This time it was a different voice.

"Attention all citizens. By emergency decree of the interim government and Vanguard Academy Command, a mandatory military draft is now in effect. All academy students, regardless of rank or year, are to report to the central muster station immediately. All active military personnel are to proceed to designated deployment zones. This is not a drill. I repeat. This is not a drill."

Holden stared at the tablet.

The satellite feed was still live. The portal pulsed, and the monster tide rolled outward in every direction, a spreading circle of destruction that grew larger every second. The numbers on the edge of the feed ticked upward. Estimated hostile count. It was climbing so fast the display couldn’t keep up.

50,000.

80,000.

120,000.

200,000.

The number kept going.

Emric was gripping the edge of the table, his knuckles white. "The casualty projections are catastrophic. If that swarm reaches the nearest civilian settlement, we’re looking at potential losses in the tens of thousands within the first six hours. The Outpost was the only buffer between the portal and the eastern provinces. Without it..."

He couldn’t finish.

Renna had her bow in her hand. She didn’t remember picking it up. Her fingers were shaking, not from fear, but from adrenaline and the sheer overwhelming reality of what she was looking at.

"That’s millions," she said. Her voice had none of its usual bounce. "Those are millions of monsters."

Lyra looked at Holden.

He hadn’t said anything.

He was staring at the screen.

The satellite feed showed the endless stream of corrupted monsters pouring from the black portal. It was more than any single army could ever hope to handle. More than any fortress could possibly stop

The System pulsed in his vision.

[Current KP: 225,890]

[Next Multiplier Milestone: 1,000,000 KP]

[KP Booster: 2x Active]

Holden looked at the millions of monsters on the screen.

Each one was worth KP.

Each kill, doubled.

He didn’t need to hunt single bosses in the wilderness for years. He didn’t need to track down rare beasts in distant valleys.

The points had just come to him.

All of them.

At once.

His fingers curled slowly around the edge of the tablet. His breathing had changed, shallow and controlled, the way a person breathes right before they start running.

Maeve noticed first.

"Holden?" she said carefully. "What are you thinking?"

He didn’t look at her. He was still staring at the screen, at the endless tide of monsters.

"Pack your bags," he said. "All of you. We’re going to the Demon Mouth."

Emric’s head snapped toward him. "Holden, did you see the same numbers I saw? The survival rate at that outpost is..."

"I saw the numbers."

"Then you understand the risk. The force concentration alone is beyond anything a five-person squad can meaningfully engage. The tactical reality is..."

"Emric."

Emric stopped.

Holden looked at him, then at Renna, then at Lyra, then at Maeve.

"Pack your bags."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!