Chapter 149: What Are You Waiting For?

Very few surface dwellers notice that the morning, noon, and dusk of the underground world each have distinct visual changes.

These changes stem not only from the shifting colors of luminescent mosses at different times, but also from the biological instincts of various plants and animals within the ecosystem.

Sentient beings have always been one link in this fragile ecological chain.

In the morning, the walls of Mordosdelca, such an Anjingling city, seep a faint glow—the divine blessing, and the spiritual light born from the Juji of believers.

At noon, when the bells of each family's Mother's Hall ring, weary slaves and male laborers gain a moment of respite.

At this time, the noble daughters of the families pray, and allow their slaves to rest briefly.

They may eat a meal and nap for ten minutes before returning to their grueling labor. The dark elves grant them rest not out of care, but merely to prolong the lifespan of their tools.

But today, the frantic bell tolls are a call to war.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

The illithid legion's assault has grown fiercer; on this battlefield, nearly a hundred illithids have been glimpsed, signaling the assembly of thousands of servitor troops.

Given the fragility of the underground world's ecological structure, this is undoubtedly a force group formed by external reinforcements.

After all, one illithid requires at least one sentient brain per month to survive, and if allowed to feed freely, one per week. A moderately large illithid colony can easily turn the underground world into a true "no-man's land."

"They intend to rebuild the kingdom?" Such scale is abnormal.

The Mothers are no fools—or if any fool somehow became a Mother, she wouldn't live long.

As holders of knowledge, they understood from the illithids' numbers alone that coexistence was now impossible.

All prior agreements and secret pacts could be torn up immediately.

The illithid hive-mind, as community manager, controls the size of illithid colonies; generally, exceeding thirty illithids makes them too "harmful" in the underground world.

Yet now, the illithids visible on the battlefield exceed a hundred—perhaps the entire colony numbers two or three hundred. Such a scale of illithid community would barely be enough to feed even Mordosdelca.

After all, they are not only gluttonous but picky: sentient beings take over twenty years to mature (and become edible), while illithids digest one in a week.

"They're serious. Abandon all illusions," one Mother stated the reality.

"I'll awaken the Ancestral Warriors and Mummy Warriors—will your family summon their Spider-Elf legions too?" One Mother was willing to commit real force, yet still demanded equal contributions from other families.

"Where are those stupid male Martial Masters?" Finally, they began mobilizing their family's private assets and elite forces.

The Mothers bickered atop the walls, watching the illithid horde swell further, with not a shred of hope left.

The beings known as the "cockroaches" of the multiverse can coexist with you when confined to a single community, even serving as useful tools—but when they begin calling en masse and forming legions, conquest means becoming stored food.

Illithids consume brains because their flawed physiology demands it: they require "pheromones," "spiritual energy," and "brain tissue" from other races.

The smarter and more spiritually potent the brain, the more they delight in it. Each of these Mothers will be the main course at the feast!

Finally, Mordosdelca's war machine operated at full capacity.

This is the flaw of the "family" system: all armed forces are private property. They only act seriously when their own interests are threatened; otherwise, they're happy to see the First Family collapse under pressure.

"Boom!"

But with the quake and thunderous roar, when the familiar yet alien beast appeared, every Mother's face turned grim.

The situation had worsened.

Compared to yesterday, it had grown by at least a third—it now towered over the walls!

But the greater change was the massive antlers extending from its skull.

This in itself meant nothing—but once a deer grows antlers, it enters adulthood. This Prince of Beasts had already entered its quasi-adult stage!

"It's floating."

One with hawk eyes saw the most terrifying truth.

The mountain-sized beast hovered, all four hooves suspended.

This meant it had fully mastered the authority over gravity—could apply it to itself—and meant

"... he walls blessed with divine power are meaningless to it."

The cruel reality slapped every Mother hard.

We illithids were waiting for reinforcements, waiting for the Prince of Beasts to mature.

Sisters, what were you dark elves waiting for?!

"If we had used all our strength on the first day"—this thought flashed through every Mother's mind.

But the next moment, they didn't need to think further—ten more times, they'd still hold back, waiting for this day.

Perhaps this is the root of why dark elves, despite their individual strength and magical civilization, remain forever clinging to survival in the underground world.

This, perhaps, is the true systemic problem—even now, the Mothers were already considering escape routes.

With the wind at your back, hide; in a stalemate, bide your time; when the wind turns against you, run. In terms of incompetent allies, dark elf society is perfect.

"Clang!"

A sudden sound on the wall drew all attention.

The goddess Verna slowly rose, black swords unfurling like wings, shadows and divine fire becoming her plumage.

She was still here.

From the start, she had given everything—and now her figure, and the divine power surging from her, stabilized the wavering morale.

The next moment, her calm voice echoed across the entire wall.

"The gods are watching us."

When her words fell, cheers rose from the wall—common soldiers were inspired, but the dark elf Mothers received a warning.

She knew exactly how to motivate this trash of an army.

Talking about "when the lips are gone, the teeth feel the cold" was useless—when the city fell, they'd simply rebuild elsewhere.

But if they lost divine favor, became deserters on a battlefield watched by the gods, they'd be seen as worthless trash.

"Boom!" Explosions erupted in chains, divine magic auras flared in dazzling colors.

Summoned creatures, arcane treasures, magical devices—all were deployed onto the battlefield.

For the first time, the dark elf Mothers stopped bickering and retreating—they had to fight desperately.

Yet the goddess Verna did not rush forward; she silently watched the swelling beast—this would be a prolonged war.

"Sister..." Her thoughts were already with the squad outside the city.

"... t least, she can escape." She no longer held much hope for the situation beyond.

It was obvious: the illithid colony outside would be even larger, and the hive-mind's defenses even more thorough.

"Mother, if you cannot protect me, protect Tarabal." It seemed that even as a goddess, she could only pray to the gods.

Perhaps at this moment, she had little confidence in surviving this calamity.

After all, the crisis still loomed ahead—and no new divine prophecy had arrived.

In her view, perhaps even the gods could not see through it—or worse, destruction was already destined.

"If destruction is inevitable, then at the final moment, let everything burn fiercely." Swinging her black sword, the goddess charged the beast once more.

——

Verna's calculations were correct: the illithid colony's expansion far exceeded expectations; these "interstellar cockroaches" were rapidly clustering.

Even if the entire "dark elf squad" outside combined their strength, they could not breach the hive-mind's lair.

And to expect unity and cooperation among dark elves? It might be more successful to assign the task to a single family—without others sabotaging them.

But reality always surpasses imagination: as the illithids neared success, another group—or rather, another race—was even more anxious than Mordosdelca's elves!

"The battle in Mordosdelca has begun. Let us begin too—save our Prince."

Dispersed Great Horn Priests converged from all directions; they were the ones least able to accept the Prince of Beasts being enslaved.

Countless small beasts transformed into beast-human hybrids, unknowingly drawing near the hive-mind's region.

Even Li En's group would never have imagined that among these "allies," there were numerous dark elf nobles—these scattered hunting squads, having killed few illithids as prey, had quietly reconnected with the Beast Cult.

They, along with their servitor armies, became the true main force of the battlefield.

"Boom!"

When the pure-white magical girl descended, this was the battlefield's greatest asset.

And she was not alone.

Another girl, with hair half-black and half-white, stepped onto the battlefield; her staff, shaped like ancient tree antlers, was nearly identical to her predecessor's.

The appearance of these two magical girls meant two Princes of Beasts had arrived on the battlefield—to save their own kind.

Thus, after the first Prince of Beasts was captured, all four hunted Princes of Beasts had now appeared.

For survival, every race in the underground world had staked everything.

And in one corner of the battlefield, Li En's surface-dweller squad arrived as scheduled at the battle's edge.

(End of Chapter)