153: Chapter 153: Violent Suppression

"Alright, you already know the truth."

Mor wiped the fanatical sense of sanctity from his face.

He returned to his usual indifference, looking down at the thousand-plus clansmen below.

Mor spoke: "Now, make your choice."

He raised his hand and pointed to the massive Liquid Metal Crab beside him.

He then pointed to the blood-stained metal floor beneath his feet.

"Survive, accept the modification, and remain in this New Continent to become a winner."

"Or refuse, become a corpse, and eventually turn into a pile of stinking excrement on the ground."

In the center of the camp, no one answered the leader's words.

A cold wind pierced through the edge of the Veil of Time, blowing into the camp and kicking up dust from the ground.

Thousands of Time Demon clansmen stood frozen in place, their gazes dull.

The truth before them had almost destroyed their psychological defenses.

They had imagined countless terrible scenarios.

They had thought the leader might be at his wit's end and was using a few severely injured clansmen for Demon Body experiments.

They had thought the leader might be secretly raising local monsters for self-preservation.

They had even thought the leader would betray the race and defect to an unknown, powerful entity within this Divine Domain.

But they never imagined that he would personally take living clansmen.

And fuse those brothers who had bled and fought for the camp into the bodies of monsters.

This madness, this cruelty without any bottom line, exceeded the limits of their cognition.

Mor looked at the group of ashen-faced remnants below and curled his lip in disdain.

"I shouldn't have bothered asking." Mor shook his head.

His experiments had already achieved phased success.

Combined with the remaining absolutely loyal personal guards in the camp.

And the dozens of monsters behind him that had completed their initial Fusion.

He had complete control of the situation.

Half a month; the energy of the Veil of Time could last at least another half month.

Within this timeframe, he was confident he could eliminate all the disobedient trash below.

"Since none of you will choose, I will choose for you." Mor drew the long blade from his waist, the tip pointing directly at the crowd below.

"The leader is going to kill us!"

"Fight him! We're dead either way!"

Seeing Mor preparing to act, a shrill roar finally erupted from the crowd.

Dozens of clansmen who had not yet completely lost their sanity, their eyes blood-red, raised their weapons and launched a desperate counterattack.

Reke endured the pain in his internal organs and climbed up from the ground.

"Kill!" Reke roared.

Several Sword Cultivators simultaneously crushed their sword arts, mages chanted spells, gunners pulled triggers, and Body Cultivators charged at the front.

The furious strike of dozens of people was imposing.

Mor stood where he was, not even lifting an eyelid.

"Idiots."

Mor pressed his left hand forward into the void.

The Origin power of the Diamond Rank Peak erupted completely.

The spatial Law within the Veil of Time was instantly distorted to the extreme.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The dozen or so Body Cultivators charging at the front paused in mid-air.

The Flying Swords lost power three meters from Mor and clattered to the ground.

The high-energy laser beams were deflected by the gravitational field and struck the empty ground in the distance.

Within this Veil of Time personally set up by the Clan Chief.

A Diamond Rank Peak against remnants who were at most Platinum Rank—the disparity in strength was despair-inducing.

The resistance was insignificant and futile.

Mor moved.

His figure flashed, turning into a silver-gray afterimage, and he charged directly into the crowd of rebels.

The long blade danced.

A head soared into the sky.

Mor backhanded his blade, slicing open another mage's chest.

He lifted a leg, kicking and breaking a gunner's spine, then seized the high-energy burst gun from the other's hand and used it to blast the head of a nearby Sword Cultivator.

A massacre.

A one-sided massacre.

In less than ten seconds.

Dozens of clansmen who dared to resist all fell into pools of blood.

Severed limbs covered the ground, and the stench of blood shot up to the sky.

Reke knelt on the ground, his greatsword broken in two.

The tip of Mor's blade pressed against his throat, the cold sensation making him tremble all over.

"You're right, I am indeed a madman." Mor looked at Reke, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"But only a madman can survive in this world."

The blade swept across.

Reke clutched his spurting neck, fell to the ground, twitched a few times, and then went still.

Mor shook the blood off his blade and slowly sheathed it.

He turned around and looked at the dozens of restless monsters behind him.

The scent of blood stimulated the beastly instincts of these Fusion entities.

The Liquid Metal Crab's mouthparts opened and closed, the Demon Vulture's wings flapped, and the multi-headed bats let out shrill screeches.

Mor raised his hand, pointing at the corpses covering the ground.

"Eat."

The order was given.

Dozens of monsters let out a roar and scrambled toward the corpses on the ground.

The Liquid Metal Crab's massive body rolled over the metal floor, its articulated limbs piercing a corpse and lifting it high.

Its mouthparts opened, and it began to chew in large mouthfuls.

The Demon Vulture used its pale, bony beak to tear at the flesh, swallowing large chunks of internal organs.

The multi-headed bats hung upside down in mid-air, their fangs biting into severed limbs as they greedily sucked the blood.

The sounds of chewing, tearing, and swallowing while feeding were clearly audible in the camp.

The remaining thousand-plus Time Demon clansmen watched this scene blankly.

That was their own kin.

Those monsters, just a few days ago.

Were their captains, their brothers, their comrades.

Now, they had become monsters clad in beastly skins, devouring the flesh and blood of their own kin bite by bite.

Fear, anger, disgust.

Various negative emotions intertwined, destroying their final will.

Clang.

A warrior's long blade dropped to the ground; his legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground.

Then, a second, a third...

The sound of weapons hitting the ground rang out in unison.

Thousands of Time Demon clansmen knelt on the ground; they gave up resistance, gave up thinking.

They no longer knew if these monsters currently feeding could even be considered their clansmen.

They did not know where they were, nor did they know what to do next.

The heart to resist was completely gone.

Mor stood in the center of the slaughterhouse, surrounded by flesh and blood, and smiled with satisfaction as he looked at this group of submissive clansmen.

This was the effect he wanted.

Shatter all their pride and cognition, turning them into clay demons at his mercy.

"Very good." Mor turned his head to look at the adjutant trembling in the corner.

"The cleanup work is left to you."

The adjutant shuddered, scrambled to his feet, and walked to Mor's side with his head lowered.

Mor reached out and patted the adjutant's shoulder with great force.

"Reorganize the remaining people. Categorize them by Physique and attribute, and send them into the laboratory in batches."

Mor's voice was calm, as if he were explaining a trivial matter.

"I will guide them step by step onto the path of evolution. They will become stronger and adapt to this world."

"Yes... Leader." The adjutant's voice was extremely hoarse.

"There is one more thing." Mor withdrew his hand, his gaze looking toward the purple-red wasteland outside the Veil of Time.

"These thousand-plus demons require a huge number of monster bodies; take a few elite squads and go outside to collect corpses."

Mor paused, his eyes becoming serious.

"Remember, avoid those Zerg."

The adjutant looked up, a flash of confusion in his eyes.

"When I went outside the Veil of Time to plunder live samples a few days ago, I discovered something."

Mor's brows were tightly locked.

"The Zerg in this Divine Domain have a hidden connection between them."

Mor recalled the scene of capturing the samples at that time.

He had only killed a lone black beetle, and a few minutes later.

Thousands upon thousands of the same bugs emerged on the horizon.

There were even a few Zerg commanders whose aura reached the Platinum Rank.

If he hadn't run fast and used spatial Laws to erase his tracks, the camp would have been submerged by the sea of bugs by now.

"Pull one hair and the whole body moves." Mor warned coldly.

"What we need most right now is time; we cannot provoke such gregarious creatures."

"Go catch those solitary beasts and birds. Do not touch a single Zerg. Do you understand?"

The adjutant nodded numbly.

He turned his head and looked at the monsters that were feeding.

Bart, Hanke, Carter...

These names flashed through his mind.

These demons were all tricked into the laboratory by his own hands.

Now, he had to continue sending the remaining thousand-plus demons in, one by one.

The adjutant felt that his Soul was already dead.

He had become a walking corpse, only capable of mechanically executing Mor's orders.

"Go do it." Mor waved his hand and turned to walk toward the laboratory door.

The adjutant turned around, facing the thousands of clansmen kneeling on the ground with empty eyes.

He opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.

Finally, he could only draw the burst gun from his waist.

And began to command the terrified personal guards to drive these walking-corpse clansmen into the tents.

...

Divine Domain New Continent, the deepest part of the underground bug lair.

The black rock layer cracked over a large area.

The Zerg King awoke from its slumber.

Its size had not increased much; it still maintained a slender, streamlined shape.

On its silver-white exoskeleton, there were now streaks of purple Law patterns.

Diamond Rank.

The level of life had completed a leap.

It no longer needed to deliberately release Mental Energy.

Standing here, the crust, toxic miasma, and temperature of this New Continent naturally changed with its breathing.

It had become a part of the rules of this world.

With the Zerg King as the center, within a radius of a hundred kilometers, the gene chains of every Zerg were resonating.

Deep underground, dense swarms of bug eggs accelerated their hatching.

The surfaces of the carapaces of tens of millions of adult Zerg simultaneously shimmered with a silver-black luster.

Forty thousand Dominator Bugs retracted their articulated limbs and pressed their heads tightly against the ground.

The massive Zerg Queen stopped her endless feeding and egg-laying.

Dragging her bloated abdomen, she bowed slightly in the direction of the Zerg King.

Tens of millions of bugs welcomed their King.

The Zerg King raised its head.

Its narrow compound eyes penetrated the soil layer, looking toward the distant Central Basin.

There, another domineering aura was also awakening.

The King of the Violent Demon Race.

The Tyrant had also come out of seclusion.

The Zerg King withdrew its gaze.

Its mental tentacles connected to the consciousness network built by the Dominator Bugs.

All events that had occurred over the hundred years poured into its brain.

The opening of the New Continent.

The cultivation of the blood-colored sub-trees.

The Zerg-filling tactics in the Extreme North.

And those alien invaders with mimicry abilities.

The Zerg King digested this information and conveyed its own emotions.

Appreciation.

The decision of the forty thousand Dominator Bugs was correct.

Moving away from the main camp, escaping the suppression of the Violent Demon Race, and gaining space for development.

Exhausting resources to build sub-trees and establishing a connection with the central Demon Tree.

Using the lives of millions of kin to screen for fire-resistance genes.

These actions were fully in line with the Zerg's survival logic of maximizing interests.

The Dominator Bugs felt the King's approval, and their tense spirits relaxed slightly.

But in the next second, the Zerg King's mental fluctuations suddenly turned cold.

The pressure descended along the network.

The forty thousand Dominator Bugs trembled violently, burying their heads in the dirt.

Dissatisfaction.

The Zerg King was very dissatisfied.

Ten million bug soldiers had spread out, turning the New Continent upside down.

Upon encountering a few invaders capable of mimicry, they hadn't even found the opponent's main camp.

They even had to send the captured wreckage to the sub-trees to request divine will.

This efficiency, this courage—it had lost all face for the Zerg.

The Dominator Bugs buried their heads even lower, not daring to send any mental signals of defense.

They awaited the King's judgment.

The Zerg King watched these high-ranking subordinates quietly.

A few seconds later, the coldness pressing on their Souls receded.

As the supreme ruler of the Zerg, clear rewards and punishments were the most basic means of governance.

There was merit, and there was fault.

Blindly killing and punishing would only lower the operational efficiency of the entire race.

A king needs to tolerate the flaws of subordinates and guide them toward the right path.

The Zerg King waved its forelimbs.

A brand new order was issued.

It wanted to personally find these rats hiding in the shadows.

The Zerg King closed its compound eyes.

The Zerg's unique power of heaven and earth began to operate.

With itself as the base point, the Zerg King converted its gene information database into tangible fluctuations.

These fluctuations spread madly in all directions along the earth's veins, air, and water currents.

[Resonant Retrospection]

Any matter existing in this Wasteland Divine Domain, as long as it did not belong to the Zerg gene database.

As long as it did not carry the Law imprints of local creatures like the central Demon Tree, the Violent Demon Race, or Fire Spirits.

Would produce a rejection reaction when this fluctuation swept over it.

The ripples penetrated the rock layers.

Deep underground, tens of millions of Zerg egg cases accelerated their hatching under the soothing of the ripples.

The ripples swept across the wasteland.

The Violent Demons who were killing each other stopped their actions; sensing the provocation coming from underground, they immediately turned their spearheads.

The ripples swept past the River of the Underworld.

The river water surged, and countless Bone Fish leaped out of the water, fleeing the area covered by the ripples.

The ripples spread to the Extreme North.

Black-gray karmic fire rose, and the Fire Spirits raised their flame whips to resist this invisible genetic scan.

The Wasteland Divine Domain reacted under the Zerg King's power of heaven and earth.

The ripples constructed the most precise sieve.

Filtering every inch of land, every drop of water, every wisp of air.