152: Chapter 152: The Only Hope

Silence.

The air in the center of the camp froze for a full three seconds.

Everyone's gaze darted back and forth between Mor and the hideous monsters.

"What a load of bullshit!"

The veins on Reke's forehead bulged, and spittle sprayed far out.

He looked at the fanatical man on the steps; the awe in his eyes had vanished, replaced by the fury of being toyed with.

"Do you take us for three-year-old children!" Reke gripped his greatsword with both hands.

"How could the great Time Demon Race be these beasts with shells and wings!"

"Where have you hidden Captain Bart and the others! Hand them over!"

The crowd was in an uproar.

Fury ignited this group of remnants who had been hovering on the edge of death for days.

They could accept an incompetent leader, and they could accept dying on the battlefield, but they could never accept such base, bottomless insults.

Pointing to Time Demon Race warriors and calling them a bunch of ugly, native mutated creatures touched everyone's bottom line.

"The leader has lost his mind; he's treating us like fools!"

"Charge in! Search the laboratory! Captain Bart must still be alive!"

Dozens of the most hot-tempered Body Cultivators were the first to lose their restraint.

The muscles on their bodies expanded, tearing through their damaged armor.

As their blood and Qi surged, dark purple Devilish Qi swirled across their skin.

"Do it!"

Reke roared and pushed off the ground with both legs.

He launched himself into the air, raised his greatsword with both hands, and slashed directly at Mor's head.

At the same time, the Sword Cultivator from the Cultivation-side on the left crushed the sword technique in his hand.

Three bronze Flying Swords turned into streaks of light, sealing off Mor's left and right escape routes.

In the Magic Faction camp on the right, two fire mages slammed their staves heavily onto the ground.

Two explosive fireballs, each over a meter in diameter, smashed toward the steps.

Several gunners from the Technology Faction raised their high-energy sniper rifles, locking their eerie blue laser beams onto Mor's limbs.

Attacks surged in from all directions, sealing off every blind spot.

The adjutant scrambled away in terror, shrinking behind the thick, jointed limbs of a Liquid Metal Crab, clutching his head.

Mor stood where he was, unmoved.

He watched the greatsword slashing down from mid-air, watched the approaching Flying Swords and fireballs, and a sneer of disdain tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Foolish."

Mor lightly spat out the two words.

He raised his right hand and pointed his index finger casually downward in mid-air.

Hum—

Inside the Veil of Time, space twisted.

The Law of space was forcibly tampered with here, magnified by more than a hundred times.

Reke, in mid-air, felt as if a mountain were pressing down on his back.

His charge came to an abrupt halt, and his body plummeted at a speed even faster than when he had launched himself.

Bang!

Reke smashed heavily onto the metal steps.

The armor plate was dented into a human-shaped crater, and he felt a sweetness in his throat, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

The Body Cultivators charging up from below fell to the ground one after another like dumplings into a pot.

The sounds of impact rang out in a chorus.

The three bronze Flying Swords stopped half an inch from the tip of Mor's nose.

The explosive fireballs didn't even have a chance to detonate.

The high-energy laser beams could only strike the transparent barrier one meter in front of Mor.

Crushing.

A one-sided crushing without any suspense.

The strength of a Peak Diamond Rank, in front of this group of remnants who were at most Platinum Rank, was an insurmountable chasm.

Mor lowered his right hand and clasped his hands behind his back.

He looked down at Reke, who was sprawled at his feet.

"Have you made enough of a scene?" Mor's tone was indifferent.

Reke's face was pressed against the metal plate.

His nose bridge was broken, and blood dripped down his chin.

The gravitational pressure caused his internal organs to shift, but he did not yield.

Reke gritted his teeth and forced his neck up.

"Pah!" Reke spat a mouthful of blood onto Mor's boots. "You lunatic! You betrayed the race!"

"Even if you kill me, you can't cover up the disgusting business of using your own kin for experiments!"

The several Body Cultivators nearby also cursed angrily.

"If you've got the guts, kill me!"

"Even if I turn into the pus outside, I won't acknowledge you as my leader!"

"You killed Captain Bart and the others, and now you're trying to fool us with a few beasts. What kind of Time Demon are you!"

The cursing echoed with difficulty in the spatial field.

The clansmen in the back who hadn't attacked were also shocked by Mor's ruthlessness.

They tightened their grip on their weapons, their eyes filled with wariness and fear.

Mor looked down at the bloodstains on his boots.

He was not angered; instead, the fanaticism on his face grew even more intense.

"Fool you?" Mor sneered.

He turned around, took a step, and walked toward the largest Liquid Metal Crab.

Mor reached out and placed his hand on the Liquid Metal Crab's carapace.

He gently caressed the metal shell, which bore the grey-white texture of the Time Demon Race, his movements as gentle as if he were stroking a work of art.

"Your horizons are too narrow," Mor said softly. "In this Divine Domain, the original Laws have been crushed."

"If you want to survive, if you want to make it through this millennium, you must discard those meaningless forms."

He turned his head and looked at Reke on the ground, then at the thousands of clansmen in the back.

"Since you don't believe my words."

Mor's eyes became dark and profound.

"Then let them tell you themselves."

Mor withdrew his hand and issued a command to the Liquid Metal Crab.

"Tell them who you are."

The camp was deathly silent, with only the sound of the poisonous miasma whistling outside the Veil of Time.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on that Liquid Metal Crab.

Reke stopped struggling and stared wide-eyed at the monster.

The Liquid Metal Crab's massive body trembled slightly.

The muscle groups beneath its carapace began to squirm.

The mouthparts used for tearing prey were undergoing a transformation that defied biological principles.

Click, click, click—

The Liquid Metal Crab's mouthparts opened, and viscous liquid stretched out into long threads.

Airflow was squeezed out from the gaps in its chest cavity.

Passing through newly formed, deformed vocal cords, it grated out a harsh, piercing tone.

"I..."

The single word, like a rusty saw, dragged across the eardrums of everyone present.

Reke's pupils contracted to the size of pinpricks.

His stomach spasmed.

The sound was extremely bizarre.

It carried the noise of metal friction, the hissing of a leaky trachea, and the pitch was completely off any normal frequency.

But it was indeed the language of the Time Demon Race.

The Liquid Metal Crab's eyes were blood-red, as if it were enduring immense pain.

Its mouthparts opened and closed with increasing amplitude.

"Am..."

The second word was spat out.

Several medics in the back row felt their legs go weak and collapsed to the ground.

They covered their mouths to stop themselves from screaming.

The Liquid Metal Crab's forelimbs gripped the metal floor, sparking.

It used all its strength to squeeze the last two words out of its throat.

"Bart..."

I... am... Bart.

The four words, intermittent, mechanical, hoarse, and laced with despair.

The four words were like a bomb, detonating directly in Reke's mind.

He recognized the underlying tone of this voice.

Even with the metallic noise, even with the strange pitch, he would never mistake it.

That was Captain Bart's voice.

That was Captain Bart, who, only a few days ago, had patted him on the shoulder and said he would lead everyone out alive.

"No..." Reke's lips trembled, and tears mixed with blood flowed down.

He couldn't accept it.

A living Demon, a Peak Diamond Rank powerhouse, turned into this slime-dripping metal crab before his eyes.

The uncanny valley effect reached its Peak at this moment.

When a completely non-Demon monster, in an unnatural way, emits the voice of the person you are most familiar with.

That horror, striking directly at the Soul, was enough to drive a person mad.

But this was only the beginning.

As the Liquid Metal Crab spoke, it was as if a switch had been flipped.

The monsters behind it all began to squirm.

A Demon Vulture with a wingspan of over eight meters opened its pale, bony beak.

Its vocal cords were not yet fully developed, and the sound it emitted was like a broken bellows being pulled.

"I... am... Hank..."

A two-headed bat hanging upside down from a crossbeam opened both mouths at the same time.

The two voices overlapped, carrying a hollow echo.

"I... am... Carter..."

"I... am... Roan..."

"Save... save... me..."

Dozens of monsters, using various hoarse, bizarre, and broken voices, spoke one after another in the center of the camp.

They called out the names of one missing person after another.

Some were left with only instinctual murmurs; others were still calling for help.

The voices intertwined, turning into an airtight net that tightly enveloped the remaining thousands of Time Demon clansmen.

It collapsed.

It completely collapsed.

The sound of weapons dropping rang out in a chorus.

Some knelt on the ground and vomited, even throwing up bile.

Some covered their ears with their hands, shaking their heads frantically, trying to drive these demonic sounds out of their brains.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

A young warrior lost his mind, drew his dagger, and was about to slit his own throat when his companion held him down in time.

The adjutant cowered in the corner, his crotch soaked.

He looked at the monsters, his teeth chattering, unable to say a single complete sentence.

Reke lay on the ground, no longer feeling the pressure of the gravitational field.

His heart was dead.

He looked at the Liquid Metal Crab that claimed to be Bart.

The Liquid Metal Crab was also looking at him.

Deep within the red light, there seemed to be a trace of Bart's Soul struggling.

Mor stood in the midst of the monsters.

He spread his arms, enjoying the fear and awe of the Demons around him.

"Look," Mor's voice pierced through all the noise and reached everyone's ears.

"They are not dead. They have been reborn."

"They no longer fear the poisonous miasma, and they no longer fear mutation."

"Their shells are enough to survive on this Wasteland for a thousand years."

Mor lowered his head and looked at Reke, whose face was ashen.

"Isn't this what you wanted? Hope?"

Mor pointed at the monsters, his eyes bursting with a chilling light.

"This is the only hope for our Time Demon Race."