Chapter 690.1: The Incoming Storm |
Along the coast of the Ocean Edge Province.
It was utterly different from the pleasant scenery and bustling crowds of Silvermoon Bay.
The stretch of sand, soaked through with blood, gave off a stench under the sunlight even more acrid than the smell of fish. There was no fertile land flowing with milk and honey here, only the eye-searing horrors of fear and death.
Near Wailing Rock, right by the Death Coast, on the cold, damp leeward side, the place was now filled with a cacophony of shrill noise. A group of blue skinned humanoid creatures with scales and gills were chanting obscure funeral prayers, offering supplications under the guidance of a priest for the hunt that was about to begin.
Two powerfully built monsters walked up to a cage half-submerged in seawater, skillfully opened it, and dragged out a man who was already barely alive.
Soaked in seawater day after day, the skin around his neck had festered and ulcerated. The pulsing blood vessels looked as if they were about to burst through the cracked flesh.
The two monsters hauled him onto the beach, threw him into the midst of the praying creatures, and then retreated to the side.
Listening to the chattering, guttural cries around him, the man tried to crawl up from the ground. However, his entire body was devoid of strength; his limbs felt as though they no longer belonged to him.
He had not eaten for three days and was severely dehydrated. His consciousness wavered, on the verge of drifting into another world, and he could not even muster the strength to beg for mercy.
His appearance meant that the ancestors who had merged with the tides had accepted their offering. The surging waves had carried away the prey’s vital essence, and the sacrifice’s weakness was the best proof of all!
And now, only the final step remained.
“… Let their filthy blood spill across the sand, to soothe the souls of our ancestors.” Chanting the sacrificial incantation, the priest, his face smeared with mud, stepped before the man. Extending a withered yet powerful arm, it yanked him up from the ground.
Before he could react at all, the priest sliced open his throat and chest with a sharp piece of flint, sending blood gushing out to splash across the pitch-black sand.
The twisting figures looked like shrieking imps celebrating in hell.
They lunged toward the corpse, smearing mud and sand mixed with blood onto their foreheads and chests as a symbol of receiving the ancestors’ blessing.
Any survivor from the Among Cloud Province would not have found those blue skinned creatures performing such bloody rituals unfamiliar. They were the aquatic Mutant Humans that struck terror into the hearts of countless fishermen and sailors!
The coastal marauders were even more troublesome than their green skinned species. They were savage, barbaric, and cunning, swarming and tearing apart any lone wastelander they encountered, yet fleeing without hesitation when they met a tough opponent.
Compared to land-based Mutant Humans, they retained even less of what made them human and far more of the beast.
As such, aquatic Mutant Humans rarely formed massive tribes numbering in the tens of thousands. Most lived scattered in small village-like groups.
With broader activity ranges and diets, their craving for mammalian flesh was not as strong as that of their green skinned counterparts. Attacks on humans were usually driven by instinctive hatred, ritual needs, or reproduction. But to think they were more merciful or gentle than the green skinned Mutant Humans would be a grave mistake. Precisely because humans were not their primary food source, their talent for wasting meat was so appalling that even the bloodthirsty green skins would frown at it.
In fact, before the Torch Church set foot on the land, aquatic Mutant Humans had not existed at all.
The Iron Tower’s militia used to patrol the coastline, destroying every Hive they found, more aggressively even than the paid military contractors in the Among Clouds Province. As a result, aquatic Mutant Humans had found it nearly impossible to gain a foothold in the area.
However, ever since the Torch Church arrived, everything had changed.
Those zealots manipulated ordinary humans captured by Na Fruit with promises of entering the Kingdom of Heaven while enticing Mutant Humans beyond the control of Na Fruit with what they desired most, forming alliances with them.
In just over a decade, the coastline of the Ocean Edge Province had completely degenerated into a breeding ground for aquatic Mutant Humans.
The area around Wailing Rock in particular had become their domain, to the point that even cargo ships from the East Coast dared not approach these waters lightly.
Having completed the ritual, the priest stood quietly on the shore and tucked the bloodstained flint into a filthy cloth pouch.
At that moment, its pupils suddenly contracted as it looked toward the jagged, rock-strewn beach. A phantom bathed in golden light stood there, like a deity emerging from the surging tides.
The surrounding Mutant Humans acted as though they could not see the golden apparition at all. And in truth, they could not.
Only those chosen ones implanted with chips could gaze upon that indescribable existence.
The aged priest trembled as it bent down and knelt on one knee.
Staring at the grotesque creature, Arzu spoke slowly. “Do something for me.”
The Mutant Human priest replied with reverence, “Please command us.”
Arzu continued, “Follow the coast westward, then keep going south. You will see a strait. On its northern shore lies a human village. Kill them all. Leave not a single one alive!”
A human village!
At those words, a flash of excitement and bloodlust passed through the priest’s eyes. It bowed deeply, pressing its wrinkled, scale-covered forehead against the bloodstained sand.
“Yes!”
When it raised its head again, the pale golden glow had vanished. Only the roar of the tides and crashing waves remained on the reef-covered beach.
It stood up and looked at its kin sprawled across the sand, scrambling for ancestral blessings, then let out a shrill, piercing howl. The sound was like a war drum being struck. Not only did the clansmen on the beach rise to their feet, but scaled faces also emerged from behind Wailing Rock.
Creatures in blue converged toward the shore, and within moments, their numbers had swelled to over a thousand.
Their weapons were a motley assortment. Harpoons, fishing nets, hooked clubs, and shields made from turtle shells. Beyond these crude arms, some of the tribe’s elites carried harpoon guns, iron short cannons, tubular sea-mine launchers, and even assault rifles.
Most of these weapons had been seized from humans, while others were DIY creations assembled from salvaged shipwreck parts.
As more and more clansmen gathered, the priest let out another piercing roar.
“Enemies! To the south!”
“Along the coastline! You’ll find their village!”
“March!”
Clouded eyes were ignited by a thirst for blood, and the response was an even more frenzied, blood-soaked howl.
“AWAWAWAWA!”
Watching the fired-up youngsters, the priest’s face filled with a fanatical, sickly smile, its withered hands trembling with excitement.
At last, the true sacrifice was about to begin!
…
French Fry Harbor.
Along the edge of the golden beach, emerald palm fronds swayed gently in the sea breeze, presenting a scene of peace and tranquility.
Beneath the mottled shade, inside a crude shelter built from hay and coconut shells, several pitch-black computer cases sat haphazardly, utterly out of place amid the scenery.
Their fans hummed as pale-blue holographic light interwove above disc-shaped projection devices, forming a constantly flickering three-dimensional image.
Displayed on the holographic screen was the structural schematic of the Turtle-class engineering exoskeleton designed by Shelter 100.
That was currently the New Alliance’s most advanced multifunctional land-based construction equipment. Even the enterprises that had completed the monumental Ideal City project marveled at its exquisite design, praising it as a miracle born in the sewers.
Though the title carried an unmistakable air of condescension, one thing was undeniable, even Ideal City’s engineers had been slightly shaken by it.
Clearly, Coral City’s engineers felt the same.
Staring at the holographic image before him, a middle-aged man wearing plain glasses showed a look of astonishment, then turned to Ample Time standing nearby and asked, “This is an unbelievable design. Did it come from your shelter?”
His name was Zhou Zhehui, a survivor from Coral City and one of the designers of the Electric Manta underwater automated welding drone.
After joining the New Alliance some time ago, he had used the professional equipment and editing software provided by the research expedition team to copy the Electric Ray’s blueprints and pass them to Meng Liang and the others. On their recommendation, he was then hired into the New Alliance’s Scientific Expedition Team.
The drone resembled a real electric ray. It had a flat, fan-like shape, capable of undulating its body along the seabed hundreds of meters underwater. Using suction cups on its underside, it could grasp construction materials and perform dangerous underwater welding operations in place of divers.
Based on the blueprints he provided, the automated production workshop on level B7 of Shelter 404 had trial-produced 10 units. These had already been delivered to French Fry Harbor via the Bull and Horse Group’s airship and put into use constructing the underwater freshwater pipeline between French Fry Harbor and Ring Island.
According to feedback from the construction crews, the Electric Ray drone was indeed highly effective, completing work more than three times faster than strength type players.
The administrator soon approved a production plan for another 100 Electric Ray drones and, as a special exception, moved them to the front of the production queue. More units would soon be airlifted to French Fry Harbor to participate in port construction and underwater pipeline projects.
At present, Engineer Zhou’s daily work consisted of guiding New Alliance technicians in mastering the use of the Electric Ray drone, including setting work targets and routes through automated programs installed on terminals.
Since his work did not take much time, he was idle most of the day, with little to do beyond wandering around the settlement.
It was during one such stroll that he happened to notice the Turtle-class engineering exoskeletons lined up at a construction site along French Fry Harbor’s shore, sparking his curiosity about the uniquely shaped behemoths.
After learning of his interest, the New Alliance’s research team did not hesitate at all. They directly copied the blueprints and operation manuals for him, letting him study them at his leisure.
When Ample Time learned of this from the research team, he quickly thought of Zhou Zhehui’s experience in underwater engineering equipment design. He immediately sought him out to ask whether it might be possible to build upon the Turtle-class engineering exoskeleton, improving it into an amphibious exoskeleton with similar controls, capable of operating underwater as well.
So Zhou Zhehui pulled out the blueprints he had already gone through countless times and, adopting a professional attitude, studied them all over again.