Apocalypse: Master of Soul Beasts

The seepage of ”syrup” underground is indeed quite peculiar.

However, Luo Luo’s simple thoughts wouldn’t lead her to think much about this trivial matter.

As long as it tastes good, then just eat it, that’s enough, right?

Moreover, the truth is, even if Luo Luo reported this incident, it wouldn’t stir any waves at all, not to mention reaching Wen Yu’s ears—the battle is troublesome enough, why bother with strange things.

...

On the surface.

”What? Soul creation? Are you saying it’s part of soul creation?”

Wen Yu pointed at the shattered corpse Victor had brought back and asked in astonishment.

Victor nodded: ”That’s what the Bone Demon said.”

Just a moment ago, Victor and Faceless had finished the battle and returned to the New Hope Assembly Site with the enemy’s corpse.

Looking at the broken flesh at his feet, Wen Yu rubbed his chin.

The term ”soul creation” easily reminded Wen Yu of the Soul Abiogenetic Creation Skill. Or perhaps, only a mystical skill like Soul Abiogenetic Creation could create such a bizarre puppet with normal combat intelligence, capable of independently executing various actions but, in the strictest sense, lacks a soul.

Thinking of this, Wen Yu bent down again to examine the messy remains on the ground.

The flesh was dense, the bones sturdy, appearing not much different from ordinary creatures—but Wen Yu was no biologist and didn’t understand such chaotic things. Even after employing some Soul Perception, he still made no discovery, and Wen Yu finally gave up on the research work.

Indeed, such research is not suitable for someone like Wen Yu, a ”Martial Artist.”

Yet, deep inside, he couldn’t help but develop a strong interest in Soul Abiogenetic Creation— the idea of an army of powerful, self-combat puppets could indeed be very helpful to Wen Yu.

An army of one?

I, a kingdom?

A single skill could make it all happen!

Thinking about the recent battle at the New Hope Assembly Site, having a batch of high-quality battle puppets could greatly improve the situation. Moreover, with the Level Lock breakthrough imminent, Wen Yu not only had to consider the issue of the Sixth Soul Pet but also his own sixth skill.

Perhaps that odd Soul Abiogenetic Creation would bring a pleasant surprise?

Pondering this, Wen Yu shifted to another issue.

The timeframe given by the military for the Level Lock breakthrough was less than a month, but that was assuming normal progression. Having experienced the war in Africa, even Wen Yu could deduce with his toes that the timeframe for the Level Lock being shattered has significantly been moved up—never mind how many mutant beasts and professionists died, the mere devastation brought by Demon Fiends to the African Continent’s eco-system, animals, and plants, is enough to deal a not insignificant blow to Earth’s core.

Perhaps advancing by ten days? Or maybe half a month?

Wen Yu couldn’t calculate precisely.

At this moment, Wen Yu could only sigh silently, hoping that by the time the Level Lock breaks, he would have achieved his purpose, taking his Sixth Soul Pet and fleeing far from this mess in Africa.

The entrapment in a single place, fighting a defensive battle to protect something, really stifled Wen Yu.

...

The green light overflowed, with bodily fluids mingling into the subterranean river spreading far and wide, extending to more than half of the African Continent. A sweet tang was brewing and fermenting in the underground cavern.

The once mountain-sized Third Generation Seed of Plague had now shrunk by nearly eighty percent, lying like a mass of sludge, with most of its body submerged in the cold river water. As the river water glided over the body, taking away strands of green body tissue, the Third Generation Seed of Plague continued to shrink in size.

Blood and flesh melded into the river, drifting aimlessly with the flow. At this moment, the Third Generation Seed of Plague seemed listless and weak.

Its body, composed of countless plagues, now dissipating, and in doing so took with it not just the amalgamated destructive toxins, but also the life essence of the Third Generation Seed of Plague.

A communicator chimed beside it, and a remaining tentacle pressed onto the communicator, connecting the Third Generation Seed of Plague to the call.

”Is the preparation ready?”

”Everything is ready.”

Perhaps noticing the current poor state of the Third Generation Seed of Plague, Zero on the other end of the communicator fell silent for a while before speaking a phrase of simple consolation: ”You’ve worked hard, begin.”

”For the Demon Tribe.”

”For the Demon Tribe.”

The echoed slogan harbored a certain noble ideal and unwavering resolve.

When the communication ended, the Third Generation Seed of Plague quieted its mind, and the eerie green light became even more dazzling.

Under the shadow of the green light, the Third Generation Seed of Plague’s body melted faster until the outer layer of plagues fully merged into the river, leaving only a seed exuding green light.

This is the seeds’ origin, and the life core...

The soul resided within the core, perceiving the yet-to-be-triggered plague across the African Continent. At this moment, the Third Generation Seed of Plague inexplicably felt an unspeakable tranquility.

With its own being as a sacrifice, transforming into the source of plague, destroying the foundation of life, bringing pain to the world!

Let my life turn the African Continent into a forbidden zone...

Using the African Continent’s feeble life as steel, crafting a blade to sever all, and break through the Level Lock!

This is Plan B, Legas’s scorched-earth plan.

”For the Demon Tribe.”

Chanting for the last time the goals it had fought and sacrificed for, the emerald green seed abruptly expanded, then exploded with a bang!

Countless green specks splattered around, merging into the river, soil, and even the air, as if a switch opening Pandora’s Magic Box had been pressed, instantly, green light spread everywhere!

...

Near the underground dark river’s closest river, there was a bustling crowd, tiny creatures as if holding a grand party, reveling in the syrup-like, green-glowing river water.

Sparrows flew with hawks, jackals danced with antelopes, even insects ignored the massive ”giants” around capable of crushing them with one step, madly rushing toward the river, even if it meant being drowned by the water, their life essence dispersing, just to savor a sip of that alluringly fragrant divine nectar.

These yet-to-mutate tiny creatures, under the lure of instinct, ignored the lurking Demon Fiend outside, all swarming toward the river, greedily and obsessively enjoying their final moments of life.

Until a vulture, twitching its wings, plummeted from the sky and collapsed on the ground.

Its body decayed rapidly, and in an instant, the vulture had perished, yet its rotten carcass emitted a tempting aroma, attracting all nearby creatures to feast upon it.

The plague mixed within the flesh spread rampant, and more lives that drank the river water toppled, turning into decaying corpses, then becoming the next source to disseminate the plague.