Strongest Radioactive System

Chapter 211 Foreboding feeling

Summoning his strength, the blonde man pushed himself to his feet, his legs wobbling like a newborn fawn's.He placed a hand on a nearby tree for support, his golden curls catching the faint sunlight filtering through the leaves.

After steadying himself, he straightened and began brushing off his clothing, his expression tightening into one of resolve.

"Father will know," he muttered again, as though repeating it would solidify it as truth.

He adjusted his coat, took a deep breath, and started forward, his steps quickening.

But after just a few strides, he froze mid-step, his entire body going rigid as his eyes widened in shock.

"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

His hand instinctively reached for his chest, as if clutching at something that was no longer there.

A wave of cold realization washed over him.

The connection.

The faint thread of magical energy that bound him to his hounds—their lifeblood and loyalty intertwined with his own—was gone.

It wasn't just distant or weak. It was severed.

Completely severed.

"They're... dead?" His voice trembled, disbelief thick in every syllable.

He took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no, no. That can't be. They... they wouldn't. They couldn't. Not both of them."

He stumbled against the tree behind him, his mind racing.

"What could've... No, it doesn't matter. They were supposed to buy me time. But for the connection to be severed... so quickly..."

His eyes darted wildly, as if

But the feeling didn't go away.

Instead, it grew stronger, an almost physical weight pressing down on him. His thoughts began to spiral, racing through every detail of his escape.

The teleportation spell had worked perfectly; he had landed far enough away.

The hounds had sacrificed themselves, ensuring no one could follow their trail.

So why did it feel like something was closing in on him?

The blonde man stood abruptly, pacing back and forth. His boots crunched against the damp leaves as he muttered to himself, his voice low and frantic. "Think, think! What am I missing? The Orc can't possibly know where I am. It's impossible. The hounds took care of that. And yet..."

His mind flickered back to the moment the hounds had died.

He had felt it—a sudden severing of their connection, as sharp and final as the snap of a thread.

Their loyalty had been absolute, their deaths a testament to their devotion.

So why did their sacrifice feel... hollow?