Timothy emerged from a different angle just in time to witness his previously injured self collapse.
What looked like a dying body suddenly fell apart into a swarm of termites, scattering in all directions and leaving no trace behind, no blood, no remains, as if no attack had ever taken place.
He narrowed his eyes.
These termites didn't feel real.
There was no pheromone trail, no natural signal like they were artificial or digitized.
Then the system notification rang in his mind:
[Skill: Escape]
0/1 uses left.
Cooldown: 00:01:59:59
"So that's how it works," Timothy muttered, rising to his feet.
His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with quiet frustration.
He glanced in the direction his attackers had escaped but made no move to pursue.
He would deal with them later, he had more pressing matters for now.
"That scent... that pheromone," he murmured, not to himself but to something else entirely.
"Don't forget it. We'll be back."
