My Community Transmigrated Again

A slender, translucent, pale-yellow snake swam slowly through the water.

SPLASH—

A hand with long, slender knuckles reached out from the darkness and snatched the water snake. A nail clipped off its head, and the remaining portion was put to its owner’s mouth and slurped down like a noodle.

After letting out a satisfied burp, the hand’s owner said slowly, ”The great ones will be descending soon. Is everything prepared?”

”Father, everything is ready. The weight of the ore this time is double that of last time. The contribution should be enough.”

”That’s good... Only by completing their tasks can we survive. Your third son is almost of age, isn’t he? I see he’s clever and capable. We can send him over to the great ones.” The owner of the voice turned his head, revealing a stooped, old Fishman with cloudy, murky-yellow eyes.

He was draped in a resplendent, colorful scaled robe, and on his head was a bone crown that only a High Priest could wear.

Lan Zhuo, chieftain of the Dark Tide Tribe, was reluctant. ”Father, my third son is not only smart, but also talented. I want him to inherit my position. He could even stay by your side.”

The High Priest, the old Fishman, scolded, ”Foolish! What future is there for him here? He’ll spend his whole life as a mere fish. Only by leaving this place can he become a man—a true Fishman.”

”What’s so bad about this place? If he stays, he’ll become chieftain, and all eighteen thousand, six hundred and forty-four members of our Dark Tide Tribe will one day be under his rule. Why must he go over there? Our tribe has sent dozens of people over the years. Has a single one of them climbed to a high position? No, not one! They’ve never treated our Dark Tide Tribe as one of their own!” Lan Zhuo said indignantly.

”All they want is for us to gather ore for them, to stay here and act as their lookouts, to kill other descenders! But if one day we provoke an enemy on their level, our Dark Tide Tribe will face only one fate—annihilation!”

Lan Zhuo’s voice grew agitated. He had dreamt several times of them provoking an unbeatable enemy, ultimately leading to the tribe’s annihilation.

The old Fishman shook his head slightly. ”We have no choice. You’re still young; you didn’t see the battle back then. I personally witnessed a monster that descended from over there. It tore through our entire tribe single-handedly and ripped the head off the chieftain-before-last, right through his heavy guard.”

”Do monsters like that really exist?” Lan Zhuo murmured.

”Of course they do.”

Before the old Fishman could finish speaking—

BOOM! RUMBLE—

The rock wall behind them exploded, and a great torrent of turbulence surged in. A tall, burly figure stooped down and slowly emerged from the shattered fissure.

The surrounding water was parted by an invisible force. In its left hand, it held a person; in its right, it reverse-gripped a crimson giant sword.

”Found you.”

”Who is that!?” Lan Zhuo’s and the High Priest’s pupils contracted as they stared in astonishment at Mogu, the sudden intruder.

The High Priest reacted quickly. Muttering an incantation, he pointed a finger at Mogu.

As if controlled by an unseen force, the surrounding currents twisted into ropes of water that lashed out to bind the target.

Thick, dark-blue streams of water wrapped around Mogu’s body. Mogu’s brow furrowed slightly. It took a step forward, flexed its shoulders, and the water ropes shattered layer by layer. Judging by its movements, the spell hadn’t restrained it in the slightest.

It took another step forward, and the crimson giant sword chopped down.

’Not good.’ A sharp glint flashed in the High Priest’s murky pupils. He swam back a few strokes, moving to shield his son.

Lan Zhuo had no time to think. ’How did this Fishman suddenly appear here? Where are my tribe’s warriors?’

In his haste, he raised the nine-sectioned bone staff in his hand, let out a low roar, and his body swelled, his skin taking on a faint, silvery-gray sheen.

CRACK—

The nine-sectioned bone staff snapped in the middle.

The descending red light was reflected in Lan Zhuo’s eyes.

The blade fell, cleaving straight down the middle!

Splitting both him and his staff in two.

The High Priest turned to flee, but behind him came the faint sound of water being sliced apart.

The sword’s edge clove through the water, leaving a straight, bloody line in its wake. It slashed across the old Fishman’s abdomen. A sharp pain lanced through his waist, and he was cut in two.

Mogu retracted its giant sword and casually rested it on its shoulder.

After a moment’s thought, it gathered the four pieces of the corpses floating in the water.

Lan Xie, the person held in its hand, couldn’t bear to watch and closed his eyes. During the entire journey here, while being carried by Mogu, he had witnessed it steamroll everything in its path.

It had beheaded anyone who stood in its way with a single swing of the sword.

Faced with an opponent of such overwhelming individual strength, and with no time to prepare, their tribe had almost no power to resist.

...

”Master, it’s done,” Mogu reported upon its return. ”These Fishmen are very weak individually, weaker than the ones from the last map.”

Qin Ziwen nodded. ”So, their weakness is their low individual strength.”

’It seems the weakness of the Dark Tide Tribe’s Fishmen really is their individual strength.’

’Otherwise, they’d be truly well-rounded fighters with no weaknesses.’

Meanwhile, without the Dark Tide Fishmen to guide them, the remaining giant leeches began to disperse, with most returning to the water.

They much preferred living in the water to being on land.

Only a few giant leeches remained inside Cyan Stone Castle.

”Let’s go take a look inside.”

Qin Ziwen walked into Cyan Stone Castle. Some of the residents who had been hiding in their Homes had noticed the change in the situation outside and were trying to fight back, using torches to drive away the giant leeches.

A giant leech wriggled into position before them, blocking their path.

Mogu swung its hand casually.

Bloodland Cleave!

The giant leech in front of it was instantly split in two.

After being split in two, both halves of its body continued to wriggle.

A large amount of yellow ichor flowed from the wound.

Mogu struck again.

The pieces were again split, quartering the original body.

This time, only some of the pieces continued to wriggle; the muscles on the others twitched a few times before falling still.

Qin Ziwen narrowed his eyes, observing the creature, and quickly discovered a pattern.

The segments connected to the giant leech’s ends remained active, while the pieces from the middle showed no signs of movement and immediately fell still.

The giant leech had a sucker at each of its two ends.

The suckers were hidden beneath its body, but as the muscles writhed, they were exposed: a structure of three semicircular jaw plates. The edges of these plates were lined with numerous fine, white, pointed teeth.

’Presumably, this is what it uses to cut open skin and suck blood from the wound.’

This giant leech was huge and its Life Energy seemed tenacious, but Mogu put that to the test.

Once it was cut into eighths, almost none of its segments could remain active.

’It seems this thing can’t regenerate indefinitely, then.’

’But cutting one into eighths takes too much effort, and this is just a single leech. Fire is still the most efficient method.’

Under the scorching flames, one giant leech’s body began to shrink, rapidly losing moisture from its surface like a sponge being squeezed dry.

When it had shrunk to only a tenth of its original length, its body became dry and hard, and its movements grew extremely sluggish.

As the flames scorched it further, its skin turned a charred yellow. Its body began to emit the acrid stench of burning protein, mixed with the faint smell of rust.

Its entire body curled inward, like a cooked prawn.

Finally, it turned completely black and rock-hard, forming a charred ball whose surface was covered in a web of fine cracks.

It looked just like a piece of charcoal that had been burned through.

A light poke with a stick produced a crisp ”CRACK.”

It shattered into several misshapen black chunks. Peering through the broken shell, there was nothing left inside but blackness.

...

...