Chapter 157

Ang raised his hands and pressed downward; the insects swarming over the man were flung away by invisible wind.

The wind surged forward like a gentle breeze of force four or five, reaching the insects—then transformed into invisible fingers, flicking, flicking, flicking, each tiny bug propelled away by countless "fingers."

Instantly, the insect tide nearly upon the fleeing humans recoiled en masse and flew backward.

Drawing on his previous experience dealing with insects, Ang realized he'd chosen the wrong spell—he'd instinctively used Explosive Fireball, but its power was excessive against these insects.

These insects, crushable under a shoe sole, turned to ash with a single Explosive Fireball; they didn't die multiple times.

What spell had less power—just enough to kill the insects, without wasting elemental energy or mana, so he could cast it repeatedly?

Was there one? Ang's Explosive Fireball was already a Level One spell—was there a spell weaker than Level One?

He didn't know if others had one, but he did: Pollination Shu.

Under the Rapid Death Aura, crops had extremely short flowering periods; Ang needed to transfer pollen from every stamen to the pistil within just a few minutes.

Though he'd used a trick—lifting the pollen and letting it fall freely—he had to raise pollen across two or three hundred mu in those minutes without damaging the flowers, requiring astonishing precision in wind element control.

If he slightly increased Pollination Shu 's power, turning it into tiny wind bullets, wouldn't that become a spell weaker than Level One?

Weak in power, but perfect for killing insects—and numerous enough that when they surged forward, they formed a wind wall; the dense tide of insects came in waves, swept down like rain, piling into mounds on the ground.

The cloaked man, who had been smug seconds earlier, stretched his neck forward in terror, his expression hidden but his shock palpable.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the cloaked man snapped to, spreading his arms and stomping hard, dancing like a shaman, chanting strange sounds: "He hu ma xuan ka %#*￥#..."

With each stomp, heaps of insects tumbled from his cloak, surging outward like a tide.

Negril wrinkled his scale-browed face: "What language is 'He hu ma xuan KS'? The tone and structure are wrong—is he just yelling nonsense?"

The God of Knowledge, fluent in every human language and dialect, instantly saw he was babbling—whether he shouted or not, it made no difference to the insects spilling from his cloak.

The insects rushing toward Ang didn't attack him immediately; instead, they turned on their own kind, devouring the fallen.

Other insects crawled in other directions—some climbed upward, circling through other holes or the ground, gathering above Ang and his companions to ambush from above.

Surrounded by dense swarms, the fleeing humans turned pale, pleadingly looking toward Luo Ge—only to realize Luo Ge was gone.

Negril smiled at them and told Ang to pull out a pile of beets: "If you're hungry, eat."

The humans were stunned—eat now? Shouldn't they be fleeing?

The insects had sealed off all directions; the cloaked man felt reassured and cackled: "Good! What weapon did you use to kill my children? Hand it over—I'll leave you a whole corpse."

Negril blinked, then understood: Pollination Shu was too gentle—a spell for pollinating crops couldn't possibly be violent enough to trigger a strong magical signature; the cloaked man hadn't even recognized it as magic.

Or perhaps it was preconception—he'd never seen a spell this weak, so he assumed it was some kind of weapon.

"I don't want a whole corpse—I want a clean death. Is that okay?" Negril replied with a grin.

"Huh? A baby dragon? Dragonkin?" The cloaked man, previously blocked by fleeing humans, finally noticed Negril and was startled.

After hesitation, the cloaked man spoke timidly: "Baby Dragon Sir, I mean you no harm. After I finish with these humans, you may leave."

"Oh? Let me go? Really?" Negril asked, surprised.

"Of course. Dragonkin are great. Hemoelthos has no wish to oppose dragons. This is a human internal matter—please don't interfere, Baby Dragon Sir."

"Oh, so you're servants of Hemoelthos? I was just thinking of joining the Chaos Temple, becoming a follower of Hemoelthos—meeting you is perfect. Can you guide us to the Chaos Temple to offer my devotion?" Negril lied.

The cloaked man sized up Negril, clearly disbelieving his nonsense, yet replied: "Wherever your heart believes, there is the Chaos Temple."

"That's not how it works. Without experiencing divine power, belief can't be sincere. Can you take us to the Chaos Temple?" Negril asked.

The cloaked man grew angry: "I see you're lying—you just want to find our temple. Though we have no wish to fight dragonkin, that doesn't mean I fear you. Stay quiet, or my children will eat you too."

Negril snorted: "I only wanted to know where your temple is. Why so hard? Fine, we'll find it ourselves."

Ang stepped on his footprint, activating the Rapid Death Aura.

Insects and beetles around them flipped onto their backs and died; some went mad, devouring their fallen kin, while others, mid-bite, themselves collapsed and became food for others.

The cloaked man stared, bewildered, screaming helplessly: "Children! Children! What's wrong? What's happening?"

As the insects devoured and died, something new occurred—one beetle grew unusually fierce, devouring its kin half a body at a time, soon swelling in size; its carapace cracked, and a larger beetle emerged, trembling as it unfurled a pair of wings.

Ang and his group had seen this winged beetle once before—the last one that escaped at the Fallen Dragon Lake.

They hadn't thought much of it—just a beetle with wings—Ang had crushed it on the spot.

But seeing this one, the cloaked man, who had been helpless moments before, charged forward in frenzy: "Wing Emperor! Wing Emperor! Oh gods, the Wing Emperor has been born!"

Negril moved faster, flying over and scooping up the Wing Emperor with his short hands.

This enlarged winged beetle was the size of a small fist, seemingly neckless; when Negril gripped it, it stretched out its neck and bit Negril's claw.

CRACK—the scales on Negril's claw were bitten through!

Negril's eyes bulged: "Cracked? Bit through? These are dragon scales!"

He'd grabbed it so casually, relying on his thick scales—those tiny bugs couldn't bite through—yet this Wing Emperor had shattered his dragon scales? These were dragon scales!

The fleeing humans stared, utterly confused, but now understood Negril's "eat if hungry"—they grabbed the beets and stuffed them into their mouths.

All insects lay dead except the one in Negril's grasp; since his claw was already cracked, Negril shoved his claw-tips into its mouth, blocking its mouthparts.

Though the Wing Emperor had excellent teeth, it still couldn't bite through dragon claw-tips—it gnashed frantically, only chipping off fragments; as the aura advanced, the Wing Emperor, unable to feed, soon grew weak.

Ang removed the Rapid Death Aura and cheerfully gathered the insect corpses, using wind elements to precisely blow them into a pile, then gathering fire elements to burn them to ash—all without acknowledging the cloaked man.

The cloaked man realized he'd met a formidable opponent; worse, he had no idea how his children had died.

After Ang collected the ash, Negril flew over and asked curiously: "What does 'Wing Emperor' mean?"

"E… evolved Earth Emperor Beetle." The cloaked man trembled in reply.

"What are its traits?" Negril asked.

"It can fly, lives long, has strong teeth, and breeds prolifically." The cloaked man answered obediently.

"Indeed, it lives long." Negril nodded. Under the Rapid Death Aura, ordinary insects died instantly, yet this Wing Emperor still lived—though weak, likely just from hunger.

After further questioning, Negril obtained detailed data: this beetle lived a month—ten times longer than ordinary beetles, reproduced ten times faster, and moved tens to hundreds of times farther and faster.

That meant, under equal food conditions, before dying, a single Wing Emperor could produce over a hundred times more offspring than an ordinary beetle; if they spread, their devastation would far exceed ordinary insect swarms.

A hundredfold insect plague made Negril shudder—but good news: the mechanism of its evolution was unknown; the cloaked man couldn't yet understand how it happened, which explained his excitement at seeing one.

The only certainty: consuming withered branches of the World Tree increased the chance of ordinary beetles evolving into Wing Emperors.

"Withered World Tree branches? You didn't register a teleportation array and get them from the elves, did you?" Negril asked.

"Yes, yes, yes—we got them from the elves!" the cloaked man replied.

"... he elves' big giveaway better not unleash something they can't contain." Negril muttered.

Seeing this, the cloaked man hurriedly asked: "My lord, may I go now?"

"Go? When did I say I'd let you go?" Negril asked, surprised.

The cloaked man's voice cracked like he was about to cry: "B-but I've been so cooperative—I answered everything you asked. Please spare me!"

Negril sighed: "Even if I let you go, what difference does it make? I didn't bind you. Go."

"Thank you, thank you, my lord!" The cloaked man rejoiced, babbling thanks and turning to run.

But as he turned, he saw Luo Ge standing behind him, Shadow Blade in hand—the shadowy warrior had slipped around unseen; only because Negril wanted to question him had he lived this long.

The cloaked man froze—then Luo Ge slashed down, severing his head clean off.

The headless body lunged past Luo Ge, struggling forward; Luo Ge swung his blade backward.

He pulled out the cloaked lich's soul, glanced at Negril, then at Ang, who was still gathering insect ash.

Negril sighed: "You search it."

Luo Ge hesitated, embarrassed: "I… I don't know how to soul-search."

"What? You don't? You're the Black Knight Emperor!" Negril's eyes nearly popped out.

"You know my nature—others' memories hold too much sorrow; it affects me too easily. So I had Pierro erase this skill." Luo Ge explained.

Fine—no point making the Black Knight Emperor depressed over soul-searching. In the end, Ang did it.

The previous cloaked man Ang had searched in the village had no memory of the Chaos Temple's location; this one didn't either—but he knew how to reach it.

"Follow the insects, trace their trails, enter the limestone caves, and you'll reach the Temple Gate," Ang summarized from the cloaked man's soul-memory.

The group followed the insect trails into the limestone caves. Andong lay within red strata, where limestone caves were rare—this was a clear marker; they could follow it without fear of getting lost, and could always backtrack.

Negril decided to scout ahead—if there was any risk of getting lost, they'd turn back immediately.

"We should get some teleportation scrolls—ultimate tool for exploring underground caves or labyrinths. Even if we get lost, tear one and we're home. Ang can craft them—but we have no blank scrolls. Let's go check first; if we must, we'll go back and craft a pile before returning." Negril said.

"Find the insects," Ang said. His goal had shifted from killing Hemoelthos to finding insects.

"Yes, yes, yes, fine—damn it, a god is less important than a pile of fertilizer. Hemoelthos would die of rage if he knew." Negril grumbled.

Soon, following the limestone caves and insect trails, they reached a vast underground chamber—olive-shaped, thick in the middle, narrow at both ends, stretching two to three thousand meters from end to end.

They entered from the higher end; far ahead, a stone structure resembling a gate was faintly visible.

"Is that the Temple Gate?" The group reached the stone gate; Negril stared at the two-meter-tall structure: "This is pathetic—even Zi Hai couldn't squeeze through."

Lightning stepped forward to measure: "I can't fit either. I must've gotten fat."

Negril was about to retort when he suddenly felt a violent spatial disturbance behind them.

He turned—ten meters away, a blinding flash erupted; a female mage carrying a massive staff appeared in a blink, immediately dropping her staff and frantically tearing at her robes.

As she tore, she slapped herself, soon stripping completely naked, screaming as she tore: "Aaaah! Insects! Insects! Insects!"

Negril looked left, looked right, then lunged onto Lightning and covered its eyes.