FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 227: Chapter 227: Subduing The Beasts

With his safety net securely tucked into his inner pouch, Sol plunged deeper into the North-by-Northeast area. The ambient Primal Essence grew thicker with every mile, practically clinging to his skin like humidity,.

To a normal warrior, it would have been suffocating, a pressure that made it hard to draw breath. But to Sol, it was exhilarating and incredibly invigorating. His Golden Liquid core hummed warmly, a massive, heavy engine idling in the dark, passively devouring the ambient energy with every breath he took.

For the next hour, he treated the Great Orrath as his personal, high-stakes testing ground. He had already confirmed that his base physical stats were completely, absurdly broken, capable of batting a Layer 1 beast easily. But brute-force physical violence was only half of his transmigration cheat. He needed to test the other half: his ’Free Use’ Domination power. He needed to see whether it worked on these essence beasts.

And well, his opportunity arrived swiftly, wrapped in the deceptive quiet of the deep woods.

As he stepped over a massive, moss-covered root that spanned a wide ravine, a sharp, almost imperceptible rustling from the purple canopy directly above gave his heightened intuition a split-second warning.

But it was just a warning of someone’s presence, not anything remotely fatal. So he didn’t dodge this or dived for cover. Heck, he didn’t even reach for his obsidian spear. He simply stopped, let his arms hang casually at his sides, and looked up, his Crimson-Sight flaring to life.

Then suddenly, dropping from the branches like guided missiles were three Scythe-Mantes… insectoid horrors easily the size of large hunting dogs. Their bodies were armored in vibrant, toxic-green chitin that blended perfectly with the canopy.

Their forelegs were literal, serrated bone-blades, currently extended and dripping with a viscous, paralytic sap that hissed as droplets hit the air. They were incredibly fast, utterly silent, and terrifyingly coordinated, diving toward him in a perfect, inescapable triangular ambush designed to sever his head, his spine, and his legs simultaneously.

Normally, a newly awakened warrior would be sliced into ribbons before they even realized they were under attack.

But Sol stood perfectly still, locked eyes with the descending apex insects, and in an instant unleashed his will.

He didn’t circulate his Golden Liquid for physical strength; Instead he tapped into the Silver liquid located in his center of chest, he forced it upward into his mind, projecting the sheer, crushing metaphysical weight of his soul outward like a tidal wave. It wasn’t an attack of elemental essence. It was an absolute, tyrannical command embedded in the very fabric of his being, a localized domain of absolute authority.

SUBMIT.

The command hit the descending Scythe-Mantes like a physical shockwave of gravity.

They stopped in confusion, seeing the look of confusion, Sol focused on the connection and realized that compared to simple snakes, it was a bit difficult to control them, since they had essence and more importantly stronger spirits… but that was only before the evolution of free use power, now that it had evolved into silver liquid, the difficulty of controlling these layer 1 essence-born was almost non existent. So he easily dominated their minds one by one.

To the primitive, violent minds of the giant insects, the human standing below them suddenly ceased to be prey. He became a god. The Domination power completely bypassed their natural predatory instincts, violently overriding their neural pathways with absolute, suffocating authority.

The three Scythe-Mantes literally fell out of the sky. They crashed awkwardly and painfully into the dirt around Sol’s boots, their ambush entirely aborted. They didn’t hiss. They didn’t try to strike. Instead, they violently folded their serrated forelegs inward, pressing their horrific, triangular heads flat against the damp moss in a posture of total, groveling subjugation. Their antennae twitched in terrified reverence.

Sol blinked, staring down at his new, terrifying pets. He lowered his spear, tapping the flat of the obsidian blade gently against the armored head of the largest Mante. It didn’t even flinch; it just pressed itself harder into the dirt.

“Well,” Sol muttered, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face. “That is aggressively overpowered. Congratulations, bugs. You’re my personal Vanguard.”

Now, now… what should I name you? Hmm how about calling you miki, and you pete, as for you… hmmm, well, I can’t think of anything right now you are number 3, not like I know the difference between you three.” He couldn’t help chuckling because of his own weird antics.

With a mere thought, he ordered them up. The three Mantes rose instantly in perfectly synchronized unison, their faceted eyes locked onto him, like perfectly disciplined hounds awaiting his silent commands.

…

For the next two hours, the Great Orrath became his private hunting lodge. Sol used the three Scythe-Mantes as his frontline tanks and aggro-bait. He would send them scurrying through the dense, thorny underbrush to flush out prey, saving his own energy while he calmly analyzed the local fauna from the shadows.

It was brutally, terrifyingly efficient, and gave Sol the chance to look undeniably cool without breaking a sweat.

His insect vanguard flushed out a massive, venomous Spear-Horn Stag… a beast whose antlers dripped with a neurotoxin that wilted the ferns around it. The Stag charged like a runaway train, intending to skewer the insects. With a mental flick, he commanded the Mantes to intercept. The Mantes intercepted it flawlessly. One took the brunt of the charge, getting impaled on a glowing antler, but the other two instantly flanked the beast, using their scythes to hamstring its hind legs and pin it to the earth.

The Stag thrashed wildly, roaring in fury.

From the shadows of the massive trees, Sol calmly stepped out. He didn’t rush. He walked toward the struggling, massive beast with the casual stride of a man taking an evening stroll. The Stag, seeing the human, ripped its head free and lunged, thrusting its remaining venomous antler directly at Sol’s chest.

Sol didn’t even raise his spear. He simply tilted his torso a fraction of an inch, letting the lethal, glowing horn slide harmlessly past his ribs. In the exact same fluid motion, he flooded his right arm with the crushing density of his Golden Liquid and delivered a casual, open-palm strike to the side of the Stag’s neck.

CRACK.

The kinetic force of the palm strike was so absurdly high that it snapped the Stag’s thick neck instantly, the shockwave rippling through its flesh and shattering the bones on the opposite side. The massive beast dropped dead at his feet. He causally placed hand and absorbed its soul, like he did with jaguar and other beasts he had encountered until now, but he didn’t know why compared to before the encounter with Isylia and kinda evolution of free use power, the effect minimal.

Maybe it’s because the boost from the goddess was too big and it evolved faster than what the souls of these beasts could compare with.

Anyway it was just a hypothesis, he needed to confirm it further.

Looking towards the dead mantis, Sol muttered, “Seems like number 3 had sacrificed his life for the greater good.” then looking towards the surviving Mantes standing obediently “Good work Poete and Miki,” Sol murmured, wiping a speck of dust from his leather clothes.

Later, the Mantes pinned down a massive, Rock-Hide Boar… using the exact same method of breaking the hamstrings while Sol calmly tested the limits of his free use power, before dismantling it with the cold precision of a butcher, and of course absorbing its soul. Not like it had any effect, but well, it was better than nothing.

Anyways, It was an intense, bloody adventure, and Sol was quickly adapting to the visceral reality of primitive combat, refining his footwork and timing with every kill.

But suddenly, the mental link he shared with his two remaining Mantes spiked with sharp, chaotic static.

Sol stopped dead in his tracks, ripping his knife out of a dead river-lizard. Through the Domination connection, he didn’t just feel the Mantes’ hesitation; he felt an overwhelming, mind-shattering wave of absolute, primal panic. The two giant insects, currently scouting ahead, were trembling violently. Their psychic feedback was a scream of pure terror, and they actively resisted his mental command to move another inch forward.

What the hell is scaring mindless, mind-controlled insects? Sol thought, wiping his blade and gripping his spear tightly.