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[Translator – Seraph]
[Proofreader – Draxx]
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Chapter 237
Combat in ‘Space Survival’ is typically loud and chaotic.
In the sky, enormous ships hundreds of ters long rain down energy cannons, while on the ground, soldiers in exosuits clash with various monstrous creatures.
So players prefer commanding from the flagship, while others dive directly into the battlefield. Regardless of which faction a player belongs to, war feels like a dazzling, noisy festival.
It’s actually quite unusual for stealth and surprise attacks to be encouraged, as is the case in the later stages with the Amorph.
Speaking of which, there is one more entity that fights as silently as the Amorph.
The Screars.
Controlled by machines, they only speak when necessary, producing little to no other sounds. The screams of wounded soldiers, the cries of those longing to return ho—common noises on the battlefield—are entirely absent.
Perhaps that's why the place we're fighting, a swamp lake within a cliff, was eerily quiet. Despite the dozens of Screars moving to attack , there was no sound. Only the rippling water disturbed the silence.
Dormant beneath my thick carapace, my invasive tendrils suddenly awoke.
The targets were the Screars positioned in the rear. My tendrils, with six limbs fully extended, swam through the swamp like serpents, seizing them one by one.
The Screars closest to drew their weapons.
Since I last saw them, they had undergone further modifications, giving them even more unique appearances. So had multiple legs, others had sagging flesh that made them look obese, and so even had extra eyes.
When I encountered PS-111, it had integrated five different species into its form and used materials like Blood Reaver claws and Gallagon blades for its reconstruction.
The Screars that had ventured into the Dragon’s nest were similar. They had augnted themselves by incorporating the remnants of fallen Screars into their bodies.
'They seem far more unstable than PS-111.'
Though they had many genes applied, they were still a ss compared to PS-111, which had completely restructured its shattered body. Their designs were poor, and their efficiency seed lacking. At this rate, their energy consumption would be excessively high, and maintaining their various configurations would be challenging.
They were clearly designed for short-term combat, with everything invested in killing .
'But they still can't defeat .'
Even now, my friends were picking off Screars throughout the nest. So would lie in wait behind mucus-covered walls, launching ambushes at the right mont, while others would attack from behind when the Screars were distracted by the smog created by the Smog Tower.
When the enemies died, the black mucus would absorb their corpses and transfer the nutrients to , thanks to the nest’s ‘Human Sacrifice’ trait.
'And then there's the Blood Reaver.'
A Screar lunged at , climbing onto my back and beginning its assault.
It seed to have integrated the genes of a Hellsight Hornet, as several of its legs were ard with scythe-like claws. Each ti its claws flashed, deep gouges appeared in my carapace, and long gashes were torn into my invasive tendrils.
While it attacked, other Screars charged in. Normally, I would have dodged, but there was no need for that now.
I reached into the swamp floor and pulled out a combat arm, grabbing the approaching Screar.
As the ‘Leeching Hand’ effect activated, the flesh on its body rapidly withered, turning into a high-energy source almost instantly. All that remained was its durable tallic skeleton.
When one Screar died, another was revived. The life force I absorbed from the Screar spread throughout my body. My broken carapace and bleeding wounds healed as if they had never been injured.
The Screar on my back hesitated. Its AI likely couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
I unfurled my coiled tail. When combined with my snake-like lower body, my massive tail extended over 20 ters, rising from the water's surface.
The Screar perched on my carapace tried to flee upon seeing the tail. After all its attacks, I had no intention of letting it escape.
I brought down the pincer at the end of my tail, smashing the Screar against the hardest part of my body, the carapace around my head. Its tal skeleton shattered completely.
But that wasn't the end. I swung my tail wide, left and right. The Screars approaching quickly retreated, but not all of them escaped.
So were struck by the tail and flung into the chamber’s ceiling or walls, while others were caught by my pincers. I could have split them in two, but I didn’t.
With my mouth wide open, I pulled my tail, along with the trapped Screars, towards . They thrashed, realizing what I was about to do, but their resistance was futile.
The Screars flailed their limbs to avoid being eaten. Three synthetic claws dug into my maw, and flas erupted from their bodies, scorching my palate.
The pain was brief. As wounds ford, the nest healed my body.
Once I neutralized their resistance, I clamped my jaws shut like a snake, crushing their upper bodies and heads, which flowed down my throat.
'Tasteless.'
It was a horrible mix, like eating peppermint candy, orange juice, and yokan all at once. Perhaps I had been eating too much delicious food, like Gallagons, recently, and my tolerance for bad tastes had worsened.
Without savoring it, I swallowed and tossed the remains—their headless, upper bodies—into the swamp. The Screars that had retreated unleashed a barrage of various projectiles at .
Cluster bombs, high-velocity impact rounds, conventional weapons of the Star Union, and energy-based weapons like psychic-powered energy bolts—all aid to inflict damage and pain.
But that was all they could do.
Even if they destroyed my body, I wouldn’t die. The Amorph nestled above the nest was fully prepared; stronger weapons were necessary to take it down.
I braced myself as I absorbed the enemy's attack and prepared my next weapon.
The tentacles that had been hanging limp below my neck began to twitch and rise. Thanks to the heart I took from the Black Dragon, my psychic power quickly recharges.
In an instant, the tentacles of the fully energized creature spewed flas.
The dragon's breath devours everything. Even the tal skeletons that gleam with a purplish shine as the light reflects off them, and the rough breaths escaping from the mouths buried in flesh.
The thieves who invaded the Dragon's lair try to flee as they watch their comrades burn in the fire.
From behind them, I spread my winged arms wide. Like Nyx, the goddess of the night from Slavic mythology, unfurling her cloak, my wings filled the space above the swampy lake.
PR/N: Nyx is a greek goddess but here it is referred as slavic goddess as per author.
No one can leave here without my permission.
No one.
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Outside the nest, PS-005 was aware that the battle was turning against them.
Contact had been lost with the four squads, totaling 98 Screars, that had entered the cave on the opposite cliff. Although it could simply be a communication failure, the AI embedded in its head did not think so.
The reason was the last ssages left by the Screars before communication ceased. An environnt, enemy, and all other factors being completely unpredictable is unusual.
It wasn't hard to guess what would happen to those who had fallen into the trap. Most of them likely wouldn't return.
Of the 209 units sent to attack the Gallagon's nest, nearly all had been decimated. Now, only it and another PS model beside it remained.
If it were not a machine, it would have fled long ago, but it waited for orders from Pyra Eleven.
And soon, the awaited response ca.
"Prepare to retreat."
"Confird."
The information gathered before the communication with the infiltrating force was cut off was transmitted.
They had lost nearly 200 units, but it wasn't a complete loss. They had acquired so information about Special Target A, and with that, they could formulate a new strategy.
After cutting communication with Pyra Eleven, they left the cliff.
The half-biological, half-chanical entities with multiple tal legs moved through the forest. Even though they had been away from the cliff for so ti, the forest was still dark.
Of course, for those who could switch between various modes of vision, this level of darkness ant nothing. Switching to infrared detection, they moved quickly, their randomly positioned legs scuttling.
While running toward the Ice Canyon where Pyra Eleven was stationed, PS-005 heard a sound.
The faint crack of frozen earth. Such a sound occurs when the native creatures of this planet move.
The two Screars stopped and scanned their surroundings. Naturally, they had to.
There were no wild animals in this forest. Before attacking the Gallagon's nest, they had wiped out the creatures living in the forest.
In other words, that footstep belonged to sothing that didn't exist in this forest before.
PS-005 remained on alert while releasing a small reconnaissance drone. The drone began to move between the trees, initiating its search.
As PS-005 synced with the drone to check for any moving targets, the drone's view suddenly shook.
When the sync was forcibly cut, PS-005 deployed its implanted biological weapons, and the Screar beside it prepared for battle.
They moved to the location where the drone had been destroyed. Not far away, they found the wrecked drone.
Strangely, the drone's remains were on a tree rather than the icy ground.
The cara used for thermal detection had been pierced by a tal spear that had flown from sowhere.
PS-005 replayed the last thing it saw before the view was cut off.
Before the drone froze, a beam of light had flown toward it. After confirming where the spear had co from, it ended the replay. PS-005's gaze shifted toward the location from which the beam, no, the golden tal spear, had been launched.
"Confirmation needed."
"Will confirm."
The Screar beside it crawled toward the location from which the spear had been thrown.
anwhile, PS-005 switched to a detection system that could sense physical projectiles in advance.
Since arriving here, it had never seen a creature using such primitive weapons. This planet, with its extrely volatile climate, is not a suitable place for civilization to develop.
Whoever it is, it doesn’t matter—capturing it will be enough. Even if the creature doesn’t want to talk, its genes will hold the answers.
Within seconds, it switched to the detection system and looked ahead.
The Screar that had moved forward to investigate the source of the spear was visible.
Or rather, the Screar whose head and body had been separated was visible.
And before it stood a massive quadrupedal wild beast.
Its head, based on a raptor from Earth, was adorned with sharp horns, and its body resembled a large feline predator. Its fur was dark gold with black ripples.
It crushed its comrade's head with a massive forepaw. Even in the dark forest, its amber eyes, glowing brightly, fixated on PS-005.
A creature it had never seen anywhere on this planet. PS-005 knew what this creature was.
"77% match with Special Target C."
Special Target C, though not as high-priority as Special Target A, is also a target for elimination.
PS-005 chose to retreat rather than fight the beast. There was no guarantee it could kill the creature alone, and above all, reporting this to Pyra Eleven was the priority.
Quickly retreating from the location, PS-005 reactivated communication with Pyra Eleven. As its many legs moved swiftly, it prepared to transmit the recently gathered information to the commanding officer.
Perhaps it was because of this.
PS-005 neglected to rember that it had switched its detection system to detect physical projectiles. It only realized its mistake when it saw a purple thermal beam coming from the trees on the opposite side, but by then, it was already too late.
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｢I thought it was odd that the nest suddenly disappeared, and as expected.｣
Mother of the Sky did not return to the dragon's nest with Nel Germa. Since Ham Ort’s injuries were not fully healed, she remained at the nest created by the Amorph.
After resting for another day, Ham Ort was almost fully recovered. She planned to head to the dragon's nest in another two days, but suddenly the nest stopped expanding and began to wither.
She understood what it ant for the Amorph’s nest to decay.
Having fought the Amorph several tis, she knew there were limitations to the nest's installation. Once the limit of how many nests can be maintained is exceeded, the most recently installed nest is automatically deactivated.
Seeing the black swamp in the small cave dry up, she realized that the Amorph had established a new nest. She also understood that this was related to the Amorph's current crisis.
The Amorph acts as if it was born to be one, not a human. Such a being wouldn’t set up nests indiscriminately without reason.
And there is only one place nearby where the Amorph could set up nests up to its limit.
｢Daughter of the teor, is it safe?｣
｢I believe it will be fine if it’s that creature. The Amorph... if it’s a black kin, it will surely try to protect it.｣
｢I trust you.｣
Mother of the Sky also knew how powerful the Amorph's nest could be. She had experienced a similar situation in the ga where her clan was destroyed.
‘It seems to be remnants moving in the opposite direction from the Dragon's nest.’
Returning to her griffon form, Mother of the Sky approached the Screar that had lost half its body.
The fact that Ham Ort’s wings were not fully healed turned out to be advantageous as it allowed her to fly slowly. As a result, she was able to spot moving Screars beneath the trees while heading to the nest.
She crushed the wriggling head of the completely wrecked Screar with her forepaw.
Given the risk of Screars activating their self-destruct system if only their heads remained, it was dangerous to leave them alive. They might escape or cause damage by activating their incineration systems.
｢These creatures must have their heads crushed. Otherwise, they will self-destruct, so be cautious.｣
｢Understood.｣
Mother of the Sky, having warned Ham Ort, retrieved the golden spear from the tree. Grasping the spear with her beak, she mounted Ham Ort.
｢I understand, but there might be creatures fleeing like this one. Please go a bit slower.｣
｢Understood.｣
Even as they flew through the branches on top of Ham Ort, her amber eyes remained focused on the forest below.
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[Translator – Seraph]
[Proofreader – Draxx]
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