Chapter 763: The Qing Anomaly

Deep underground of Hetu Ala, the core chamber of the Soldier Nest.

Viscous azure-blue nutrient fluid flowed through the transparent membranous tubes, emitting an unpleasant gulping sound.

Lao Salman hovered at the central control node, his black robe's tendrils fully merging with the membranous ground.

His consciousness was now split into hundreds of strands, simultaneously monitoring the status of each cultivation unit within the chamber.

Unit Three.

Inside a membranous-wrapped vesicle, a humanoid outline convulsed violently.

That was the original Jurchen warrior Batu Lu, who three days prior had been wounded by Ming artillery in a skirmish outside Jinzhou and, when brought back, was already on his last breath.

Now, his chest cavity had been completely dissected.

His original ribs had been removed, replaced by interwoven azure crystal bone.

A fist-sized dark energy core, pulsing with intense light, was implanted at the diaphragm position, precisely connected to the crystal bone framework.

Dozens of semi-transparent nerve conduits extended from the core, piercing Batu Lu's spine, cerebral cortex, and major muscle groups.

"Nervous system connection completed."

"Dark Energy Artisan Ahmuhan's eyes flickered with data streams."

His left hand had fully crystallized, its five fingers extending hair-thin manipulative tendrils that were fine-tuning the conduit positions.

"Begin infusion of the War Slave Covenant."

Lao Salman's consciousness issued the command directly.

Ahmuhan's crystallized left hand twitched slightly.

The dark energy core blazed forth, violent energy surging through the conduits into Batu Lu's body.

The previously convulsing body suddenly straightened.

His eyes opened.

In the depths of his pupils, two points of azure-blue spark ignited.

There was no pain, no fear, not even the bewilderment of being human.

Only an icy silence, awaiting orders.

"Basic command test."

Ahmuhan emitted a thought wave.

Batu Lu—or, as he should now be called, Iron Bone War Slave Type III No. 7—slowly rose from the nutrient fluid.

Its movements were somewhat stiff, yet abnormally stable.

The crystal bone framework, driven by dark energy, provided support far surpassing that of flesh and blood.

"Weightlifting."

Beside it, two low-ranking war slaves laboriously brought up a 400-catty test stone lock.

The war slave gripped the stone lock's handle with one hand.

Crystal bone and muscle exerted force together, steadily lifting the stone lock to hover in midair.

Five breaths.

Ten breaths.

Thirty breaths.

His arm showed not the slightest tremor.

"Record: basic load capacity met, steady-state output excellent."

Ahmuhan's eyes flashed with satisfied blue light.

"Weapon compatibility test."

The war slave set down the stone lock and walked toward the weapon rack.

It first picked up an iron wood shield, swung it twice, the motion smooth.

He then switched to a heavy wolf-tooth club.

As he swung, the wind it generated howled within the chamber.

Finally, it halted before a specially crafted weapon.

It was a thick-backed cleaver over six feet long, its blade featuring a blood groove.

The blade faintly gleamed with azure light, having been forged with crystal mineral powder mixed in.

The war slave gripped the blade with both hands and performed a standard chopping motion.

Fast, fierce, steady.

"Proficiency with cold weapons excellent, matching the design expectations for a close-combat breakthrough unit."

Ahmuhan finished recording and looked toward the hovering Lao Salman.

"Master, shall we conduct the pain reflex suppression test?"

"Proceed."

Lao Salman's order was terse and icy.

Ahmuhan manipulated another tendril, lightly piercing the war slave's shoulder.

No reaction.

The tendril dug deeper, agitating the muscle.

The war slave's eyelids did not even twitch.

Flame approached the skin.

A smell of scorching permeated the air.

The war slave remained still, as if that body did not belong to him.

Pain reflex completely suppressed. Fear reflex not detected.

Good.

In Lao Salman's voice there finally appeared a trace that could be called 'satisfaction'.

How extensive is the memory cleansing?

Short-term memory has been completely erased. Long-term memory fragment retention rate is below three per thousand, mainly combat instinct and language base, not affecting control.

Implanted with the 'Foe-Friend Identification Protocol' and the 'Basic Tactical Instruction Set'.

Yes.

Another stream of data surged into the war slave's dark energy core.

Its gaze remained icy, but its movements began to show a definite direction.

It turned toward Amuhan and knelt on one knee.

This is the posture of submission to the controller.

Mass production parameters have been recorded. The Type III war slave's cultivation cycle can be shortened to twenty-two days, with an estimated yield of eighty-five percent.

Amuhan reported.

Next batch, activate three hundred units.

Lao Salman gave the order.

Now, test Unit Seven.

Unit Seven is another sight.

Here the sacs are even larger, and the biological outlines inside are more distorted.

It roughly retains the form of a pangolin, but its size is comparable to a calf.

Its surface is covered not with scales, but with layered, sharp-edged crystallized bone plates.

Most horrifying are its forelimbs.

Those are not claws, but two high-speed rotating, dark-energy-driven crystal drill heads.

Earth-Digging Beast prototype, designation 'Piercing Mountain'.

Amuhan introduced it.

Design requirement: able to silently dig through a three-zhang-thick rammed-earth wall or five-zhang-deep rock layer within two shichen.

Testing begins.

Order issued.

The sac ruptured, and the viscous nutrient solution poured out.

The earth-digging beast fell to the ground, emitting a dull thud.

It seemed somewhat confused, turning in place twice.

But as the dark energy core activated, the twin crystal drill heads began to rotate slowly.

Faster and faster.

Eventually forming two blurry glows of dark blue light.

The earth-digging beast aimed at the preset mixed-material layer simulating a rammed-earth wall in the test area and plunged into it.

No loud noise.

Only a low hum barely perceptible.

At the moment the crystal drill heads contacted the material, the latter swiftly melted and vaporized like a hot knife through butter.

Not shattering, but molecular-level disintegration.

The earth-digging beast's body advanced at a steady speed.

Behind it remained a smooth, circular tunnel four chi in diameter.

The tunnel's inner walls were instantly sintered by high heat, forming a glass-like hardened layer that would not collapse.

Speed meets standard. Noise below expectation. Tunnel quality excellent.

Amuhan quickly recorded all readings.

But energy consumption is huge. With the dark energy core's current storage, full-power operation can last only one shichen.

Moreover, the nervous system is overly simple; when encountering complex geological structures or exotic iron layers, it may fall into a logical deadlock.

Lao Salman watched silently.

Watching the earth-digging beast bore a perfect through-hole in the test wall, then emerge from the other side.

The drill head stopped rotating.

The earth-digging beast lay on the ground, its core light dimmed, entering a low-power dormant state.

Reduce the drill head size by twenty percent, optimize the energy distribution algorithm.

Lao Salman instructed.

Add basic obstacle avoidance logic. As for exotic iron...

He paused.

Upon encountering an exotic iron layer, it self-destructs.

What we need is a tool that can tear a gap in the Ming army's defenses, not junk that gets stuck when it hits hard bone.

Yes.

Amuhan noted it down.

Then, the 'Fire Spitter' prototype...

Next test.

Lao Salman's tentacles twitched slightly.

The flamethrowers' control logic is more complex, requiring more stable neural integration. For now, prioritize ensuring mass production of the 'Iron Bone War Slave' and the 'Digging Beast'.

Besides, the Superior sent new data.

His voice became low.

The light curtain's attenuation showed a tiny but abnormal fluctuation peak. The timing exactly matched the periodic thermal eruption points detected within the Great Ming territory.

Amuhan's eyes flashed blue.

You mean... the Ming are also 'accelerating'?

They are struggling.

Lao Salman's tentacles writhed slowly, in sync with the pulse of the entire brood.

Using their inefficient, externally dependent, fragile 'technology'.

But this changes nothing.

When our war tide surges past the Great Wall, their clanking machines will become nothing but scrap iron to bury them.

Gloomy light flowed within the cavity.

In the cultivation vats, distorted outlines rose and fell in the nutrient fluid.

Awaiting awakening.

Awaiting deployment, onto the battlefield soon to be soaked in blood and dark energy.

North of Brocade Prefecture, by the Daughter River.

Late night.

A unit of Ming troops, the Night Watch, lay hidden in the dry grass, watching the movements of the Qing patrol on the opposite bank.

Captain Lao Han was a veteran of Liaodong, his nose sharper than a hunting dog's.

At this moment, he stared fixedly at the patch of bushes on the far bank that glowed an abnormal azure in the moonlight.

Something's off.

He lowered his voice.

Too quiet. Not even a night owl cries.

Just as he finished speaking,

The bushes on the opposite bank suddenly split apart to either side.

They weren't pulled apart; it was as if something had thrust up from below.

Five tall black silhouettes stepped silently onto the riverbank.

Moonlight shone on them.

They reflected a cold gleam of mixed metal and bone.

They wore no armor.

Because they needed none.

Exposed on their torsos was an interwoven lattice of azure crystal bone.

In their hands they bore broad-backed sabers.

Deep in their eye sockets, two points of blue fire burned steadily.

What... what is that thing?

A young Night Watchman's voice trembled.

Lao Han's throat went dry.

He had seen black-armored soldiers, he had seen mutant beasts.

But this... thing, like a person and a monster crudely stitched together, filled him with a dread he had never felt before.

Retreat.

He gave the order without hesitation.

Fall back! Go report!

But it was already too late.

On the far bank, the five Iron Bone War Slaves turned their heads in unison.

Their azure gazes locked onto the dry grass.

No roar, no warning.

They stepped forward, entering the icy river.

Their movements were stiff, but their speed was extreme.

The water came only up to their thighs.

Run!

Lao Han leapt first, sprinting backward.

The young Night Watchmen tumbled and crawled after him.

Behind them, the sound of breaking water drew nearer.

Lao Han glanced back.

His soul fled, his spirit scattered.

Their speed on shore was more than double, rapidly closing the distance.

Worse still, they made almost no sound as they ran.

Only a faint 'click-click' from the rubbing of their crystal bone joints.

Scatter! Every man for himself!

Lao Han roared.

He drew his waist blade, turned sharply, hoping to buy the young man a bit of time.

Then he saw the blade-light slashing toward him.

It was so fast he couldn't even manage to block.

He could only barely turn sideways.

"Swish!"

His left arm was severed at the shoulder.

Fresh blood spurted.

Lao Han cried out in anguish and fell to the ground, his right hand still gripping the blade tightly.

The Iron Bone War Slave stopped before him, lowered its head and looked at him.

The blue fire in its eyes showed no fluctuation.

Then it lifted its foot.

And stepped down.

The sound of the skull shattering was especially clear on the quiet riverbank.

It didn't even spare the corpse another glance before continuing to pursue another fleeing direction.

After the time it takes to burn an incense stick.

The riverbank returned to silence.

Only five corpses of the Ming army's night-uncollected troops lay in various twisted poses in the pools of blood.

Five Iron Bone War Slaves stood silently beside the corpses.

The dark energy cores in their chests flickered faintly, as if sending some kind of signal into the distance.

Then they turned and stepped back into the river.

They vanished behind the deep blue thicket on the opposite bank.

As if they had never appeared.

Only a series of clear, cold footprints remained on the riverbank.

And in the air, the lingering strange smell of iron rust mixed with dark energy.

A thousand li away.

Chen Dynasty Observatory.

Zhang Cheng sprang up from the observation seat.

"West, Liaodong region, detected a high-intensity, short-lived peak of dark energy burst!"

"The energy signature……is different from any known Black Armored Soldiers or Aberrant Beasts!"

"It is more refined, more orderly, more like……"

His face turned pale.

"It is more like some kind of precision‑controlled weapon."

Yue Fei had somehow already stood behind him.

"When did this happen?"

"Half a quarter‑hour ago. It lasted about a hundred breaths, then faded."

"Location?"

"North of Brocade Prefecture, along the banks of the Daughter River."

Yue Fei fell silent for a moment.

"Have you notified the sovereign?"

"I have reported. The sovereign only said……"

Zhang Cheng paused, then relayed that calm yet weighty order.

"Record it."

"Then wait and see."

"See whether Great Ming……can withstand this first heavy blow."

The crystal lens rotated silently.

It projected the distant death and chill onto the observation screen.

It turned into a spreading patch of ominous deep‑blue light.