Chapter 1366: A Fork in the Story

…

The battle ended as quickly as it had begun.

The moment it drove its evolved stinger into the center of the Eye of Branch Nest, victory was settled. The neurotoxin diffused fast, shredding its target’s will, and the creature lost control of its blades and feet and collapsed.

Devour regarded the fallen body with something close to satisfaction and retracted its stinger.

It had once been like those creatures — aimlessly gathering, running the same circuits, waiting for the Mother of the Nest to determine its fate. But it had evolved before the Mother reached it. It had become a hunter of Nest Eyes.

The current form shared almost nothing with the original one.

Devour had borrowed the pheromone-separation ability of certain deep-sea fish, detaching its sensory organs from its internals and distributing them across the surface of its skin. Its ribs had rebuilt themselves as a carapace dense with magic power — its defensive capacity multiplied beyond comparison. If the two-legged lowlifes came for it again, they would find no easy entry into its body.

Long-range combat, it had decided, was far preferable to close quarters. It could now produce raw silk loaded with explosive compounds, capable of launching gallstones and bone spears. These weapons drew nothing from magic power and were unaffected by God’s Stones. To accommodate the new organs, its body had expanded threefold, and ordinary blades would shatter against its plating.

And the evolved stinger — the stinger that delivered neurotoxins — served two purposes. It could drop a large target and leave the body structurally intact, ready to be absorbed for its pheromones. An ideal weapon in every sense.

It could no longer be called the same species as the Nest Eyes it killed.

For the sake of the distinction, it had learned the habit of naming from the lowlifes. It called itself Devour.

To devour everything. To evolve.

And the scattered Nest Eyes combing the sea for pheromones were, without question, the most valuable prey available.

Devour opened its carapace and unleashed its tentacles, pulling the carcass inward piece by piece.

Then it felt something.

An undulation — peculiar, unlike anything it had catalogued. The scale of it was immense. It felt as though the world itself had cried out in unison.

Devour looked up.

The sky held only dark cloud and the Bloody Moon. No visible change. But in its eyes — the distributed eyes scattered across its carapace — the dusky sky was alive with ripples, spreading outward in every direction, rushing toward the horizon and beyond.

Dread settled into Devour like cold water entering a wound.

It had felt undersea volcanic eruptions. Earthquakes. Every kind of wave the natural world produced. None of those compared to this. This was too clean, too singular. It had a cadence that made it more frightening, not less.

The ripples dissipated into the distance.

Before Devour had finished processing what it had felt, something new arrived through its tentacles — a sensation, familiar in origin and unmistakable in meaning.

The Mother of the Nest. An evolution command.

The Eyes of the Branch Nest had already received it. Devour, severed from that connection for so long, felt it now too: a new bond forming, uninvited.

And on the heels of the signal came the urge. The pull. The desire to comply.

No.

It was no longer an ordinary nest eye.

It was a unique individual.

It spat the half-absorbed carcass out and threw itself sideways, rolling across the ground, fighting the instinct rising from somewhere beneath thought. Its guarding blades and feet froze in place, paralyzed by the spectacle, and Devour’s thrashing stinger swept them into meat before it registered what it had done. Waves churned through the surrounding water. It fought itself with everything it had, pressing the urgency back down by sheer force, one inch at a time.

Gradually, it stilled.

After considerable hesitation, it allowed the feet to drag the Nest Eye back to it. Devour had at least learned where the eyes were heading — convenient intelligence for future hunts.

It inserted its tentacles carefully back into the body’s center and submerged itself in the accumulated commands stored in the pheromones.

The volume of orders struck it like a blow.

Too many. Far too many.

Evolution was a precise and serious undertaking. No recomposition could be perfect — flexibility and firmness traded against each other, a sudden peak meant a weakened foundation. Balance across the whole entity was the only path to excellence. The Mother’s commands had always been deliberate: analysis, filtration, decision. Two strains of pheromone at most, chosen for their extraordinary potential.

But what Devour found now was a cascade of evolutionary constructs being applied simultaneously to dozens of Nest Eyes. Endure pain. Rapid regeneration. High reproductive rate. Sharp carapace. On and on, with some pheromones derived from unfiltered sources, contradicting the Mother’s own prior approach — and some commands drawn from the bodies of primitive beasts, without regard for consequence.

The mass of constructs could strengthen the species in the short term, yes. But it would also foreclose the future. Devour remembered dimly the direction of the carved blood vessels — the deep goal was not mere survival. It was to fly higher than the sky. Once an inferior pheromone set its mark in an evolution, the damage was difficult to repair, and the cost of trying was enormous.

Devour could not comprehend why the Mother of the Nest had made this choice.

But it was no longer bound to the species. Whatever their evolution signified — ruin or transformation or something it lacked the framework to name — it was no longer Devour’s concern.

It finished consuming its prey and slid beneath the surface of the ocean, disappearing among the waves.

Is it too late?

The Guardian stood at the calm shoreline and looked north.

Waves moved against the sand, soft and rhythmic. She knew this was most likely the last peace the sea would hold. Far to the north, the sky had turned deep red, threaded through with occasional arcs of magic power that flickered like lightning from a storm still gathering itself. Soon the blood-red clouds would reach the Land of Dawn and take their place in the battle that had been coming for longer than memory stretched.

Further out — stretching for hundreds of kilometers across the water’s surface like a moving island — the black tide rose. They were converging at last, drawn together by the Divine Will.

She had watched this scene play out countless times before.

But this might be the last time.

Not an ending, though. For the world, it was only a beginning — another turn in a ten-million-year cycle, and whoever kept watch over the next cycle would not be her.

She turned south and thought of the young woman. I wonder if she found her way home.

Let it be soon. The prayer rose from somewhere below words, below intention. Please, let it be soon.

Chapter 1366 - A Fork in the Story

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

…

The battle ended as quickly as it began.

After it stabbed its evolved stinger into the center of another Eye of Branch Nest, victory became an instant certainty. The quick diffusion of its neurotoxin destroyed its target’s will, causing it to lose control over its “blade” and “foot.”

It looked at the collapsed Eye of Branch Nest and retracted its stinger in satisfaction.

It used to be like these pitiful creatures, aimlessly gathering repeatedly, waiting for the Mother of the Nest to determine their fates. But while the latter had yet to evolve, it had already become a hunter of the Nest Eye.

Compared to its initial appearance, its evolved state was a complete overhaul.

It exploited the pheromones that some deep sea fishes had, separating its eyes from its internal organs and attached them to its skin, at the same time evolving its ribs into a carapace brimming with magic power. This exponentially heightened its defensive capabilities, and if it encountered the despicable two-legged lowlifes again, the latter would no longer be able to easily intrude into its body.

Aside from that, it had deemed that long distance combat was far safer than close combat. It could now produce raw silk possessing explosive elements, and use them to fire gallstones and bone spears. Although it referenced it from the bodies of other lowlifes, it was a lot more effective. It did not rely on magic power to attack and was not weak towards God’s Stones. To

accommodate these organs, its entire body had expanded three times and any typical “blade” was incapable of harming it.

Lastly, the evolved stinger that produced neurotoxins was both capable of fatally wounding a large target and preserving its intact body for the monster to absorb its pheromones. It was a multifaceted weapon.

Without a doubt, it could not be regarded as the same species as those Eyes of Branch Nest.

For the sake of distinguishing itself from its previous form, it learned from the lowlifes and gave itself a name—”Devour”.

To devour everything and evolve.

And all the scattered Eyes of Branch Nest harvesting pheromones in the sea were undoubtedly the most valuable prey.

The next thing to do was to enjoy the moment.

“Devour” opened its carapace and unleashed countless tentacles that pulled the carcass into its own body bit by bit.

Right at this time, it suddenly sensed an extremely peculiar undulation—

The degree of the undulation was so immense it felt as though the world was howling in unison!

“Devour” gazed up to the sky, and aside from the dark clouds and Bloody Moon, the vast sky did not seem to be experiencing any changes. But in its eyes, endless ripples were undulating incessantly across the dusky sky, spreading out into the distance.

An intense sense of unease enveloped “Devour”.

Regardless of it being violent eruptions of undersea volcanoes or earthquakes, these natural events produces all sorts of wave motions, but none of that could compare to what “Devour” was feeling. The ripples were too pure and filled with a cadence which made it even more terrifying.

The ripples dissipated quickly into the horizon, but before “Devour” even recovered from its bewilderment, a familiar sense surged through its tentacles into its body.

It was the Mother of the Nest issuing its evolution command!

The command was received by the Eyes of the Branch Nest, and a new connection was established with “Devour.” After losing the connection with the Mother of the Nest for so long, it never expected to once again hear the echoes of its species.

But it did not stop there, upon deciphering the content of the command, Devour’s subconscious mind immediately had the desire to obey!

No!

It was no longer an ordinary nest eye!

It was a unique individual!

It spat out the remaining carcass of the Eye of Branch Nest and rolled left and right on the ground in an attempt to resist its remaining instincts. The “blades” and “feet” guarding by its side were so afraid they remained stationary until they were smashed into meat patties after being struck by a sweeping stinger. Its actions stirred up waves through the surrounding waters. It was practically doing its utmost be be able to suppress the urge stemming from the bottom of its heart and inhibiting the allure by force.

Devour gradually calmed itself down. After hesitating over and over again, it finally allowed the ‘feet’ to drag the nest eye back. After all, Devour gained the knowledge of where the eyes were moving towards and felt that its future hunts had become even more convenient.

Devour carefully inserted its tentacles back into the center of its prey and immersed itself in the willpower of the main nest, recording all the commands accumulated within the pheromones.

But the end result shocked it beyond words!

There were… too many orders!

The process of evolving was an extremely serious affair. It was impossible for every single recomposition to be flawless, like how flexibility and firmness are inversely correlated, a sudden spike meant a weak continuation. To achieve perfection, one had to consider the balance of the whole entity. It was because of this that every command issued out were constant repeats of analyzing and filtering all pheromones before a decision was made. It basically did not accept more than two strains of pheromones, and placed emphasis on extraordinary evolutionary constructs.

However, Devour had received and read many evolutionary constructs that were acting on many Nest Eyes.

For example, the ‘ability to endure pain,’ ‘rapid regeneration,’ ‘rapid reproduction rate,’ ‘sharp carapace,’ etc… to the point that some of the pheromones came from unfiltered sources and went against the Mother of the Nest’s former modus operandi! It did not stop there; some of the orders included pheromones that belonged to primitive beasts, and these were orders that showed no regard to the consequences!

Indeed, the mass of evolutionary constructs were capable of strengthening the species in a short span of time, but at the same time, it limited its prospects as a species. Devour faintly remembered the direction of the carved blood vessels—their ultimate evolution goal was not for survival, but to fly higher than the sky.

But once an evolution was completed, the flaws brought about by the inferior pheromones were difficult to be mended and the price to pay was too large.

Devour was unable to understand why the Mother of the Nest would make such a decision.

Fortunately, Devour’s fate had been severed from the species, so regardless of what their evolution signified, it had nothing to do with Devour.

After finishing up its prey, Devour dived deeper into the ocean and disappeared amongst the waves.

…

Is it too late…

The Guardian stood at the calm seashore and looked into far north.

The waves gently washed up the shore, producing gentle and monotonous rustling. But she knew that this was most probably the last tranquility the sea would have.

The distant sky had been dyed a deep red with the occasional arc lights formed by magic power flickering away, just like a large storm gradually taking form. Not long later, the blood-red clouds would befall the Land of Dawn and become a part of the battle of destiny.

And further into the distance, black ‘tides’ rose out of the water surface that extended several hundred kilometers like a moving island.

Under the guidance of the Divine Will, they were all finally converging.

This was a scene she had witnessed countless times.

But this might possibly be the last.

But it did not mean the end. To the world, it only meant a brand new beginning. But this beginning was merely a repeat of a ten million year cycle, and the Guardian of the next cycle would no longer be her.

No one knew if the young lady found her way home. She turned to face the south and thought, ‘If only we have the chance to meet again.’

‘Let it be soon.’ She prayed from the bottom of her heart.