Chapter 1235: Corpse Sealant

Chapter 1235: Corpse Sealant

Zac marveled at the growing brood of larvae. By appearance alone, they were qualified to be called a beast tide. There were already hundreds the size of Beast Kings. Zac didn't see any signs of trouble, but Ibtep wouldn't be wrong. If he couldn't see it, then it was brewing beneath the surface.

"You should only cull the possessed ones who have fed to their limits or are lashing out," Ibtep added. "If they keep eating, ignore them. It takes time and effort to breed the small ones. I barely have enough for the task."

"I'll try, but it might cost more if we wait too long," Zac said.

The others soon arrived. His subordinates were all aware of Ibtep's class, and even those who didn't know about the space-eating larvae quickly figured out what was going on. Only Kator was out of the loop and looked around with confusion.

"What's this?" Kator said.

"Space-eating larvae. We brought some to deal with the spatial turbulence," Zac said, surprised to see the small nick on his left wrist. Joanna's strike still hadn't healed after over a week? Or was it intentional? Zac didn't comment on it, continuing before Kator could start an interrogation. "We had to stop; the crew needs rest."

"That's what happens when you bring weaklings on a critical mission."

"Beats bringing people with dubious allegiances," Zac said, glancing at the Reaver. "I'm talking about our new hires, of course."

"Of course," Kator scoffed. "So what's the problem?"

"Some of them are about to lose control after ingesting too much resentment. We'll be in trouble if they go berserk or explode with all that stockpiled energy, so we need to identify and neutralize them before that. Everyone will cover a section of the barrier."

"Seems easy enough. They're like sitting ducks," Emily hummed as dozens of tomahawks poured out of an armament pouch on her belt.

"I don't know about that," Kator muttered as a pitch-black javelin appeared in his hand.

Zac had never seen the Reaver use it before, and it didn't appear to be a real treasure. Its materials were high-quality, but the engravings weren't anything special. It appeared to be a disposable ranged weapon. The Reaver hurled it at a random larva in the distance, and it shot forth with enough speed to look like a black laser.

The Time-and Conflict-imbued javelin pierced straight through the fake Beast King, unleashing a spatial explosion that destroyed dozens of its neighbors. The number would have been far greater if the critters hadn't been designed to withstand strong spatial winds.

"The corruption makes their storage cells that unstable?" Ibtep muttered. "This is valuable data. Thank you, Bonewalker."

"These things are your invention?" Kator said, curiously looking at Ibtep for the first time. "So someone this interesting was hiding among the faceless."

"Please bring back some of the corrupted corpses of those with greater ability to integrate the chaotic force into their flesh," Ibtep said. "I will study them and see if I can improve on the next generation."

"I will," Zac said, turning to his warriors waiting aside. "You saw what happened. The corrupted ones need to go, or we'll run out of grubs in minutes. Just kill anything that looks suspicious, but don't overdo it. These creatures are expensive and difficult to breed. Don't pass the feeding line and contain your strength. There might be issues with the carapaces, too, so don't disturb them."

"How nostalgic," Kator sighed as he grew his cudgel, and Zac felt he'd be grinning if he had a mouth. "It's like I'm a recruit thrown into a war gate again. I've lost count of how many times I've endured."

"Then I'll be counting on you," Zac said before flying in a different direction.

Kator's words weren't an empty boast. The Izh'Rak Reaver waged a perennial war against multiple forces, the strongest of which was the Primal Council. It was a loose organization made up of beastkin tribes and Atavistic Beast factions. If you thought beastmen were gentler toward their animal cousins than other cultivators, you'd be wrong.

The Primal Council followed the law of the jungle. Beasts without a spark of intelligence were turned into cannon fodder and thrown against the Izh'Rak Phalanxes without rest or respite. The council kept whole sectors as rearing grounds, using unknown means to transport them en masse.

It was a similar strategy to what Ogras employed in his ill-fated Incursion, except the numbers were enough to blot out the sun. The council was known to send beasts for centuries until the defenders ran out of resources and whole continents were ravaged and run over. The real warriors would swoop in at that time, crushing the faltering resistance in one swoop. The situation suited the war-like Reavers just fine, and they'd even turned it into a training method.

She simply froze any larvae that were on the verge of exploding, buying enough time to push them away. Ogras' command of shadows made him perfectly suited for the task. It looked like he had over a hundred chains stabbing into larvae. He even lessened the pressure on those whose skillset weren't as well-tailored to precision strikes.

Ogras had another advantage. Over the past weeks, he had proven uniquely tuned to fell Karma and resentment, allowing him to uncover dangerous situations well ahead of time. Even Zac's vision and danger sense occasionally failed, resulting in a grub exploding. Not a single explosion came from Ogras' side.

Hours passed, and the accidents gradually decreased as everyone got better at picking up clues. It was replaced with another problem. As expected, some of the debris proved less stable than others, and it was very difficult to discern ahead of time. Zac had already lost count of how many larvae he'd slaughtered, but he was soon spending more time hurtling carapace pieces past the feeding line.

Each loss meant the spatial seal had lost a little bit of its power, and they eventually reached a point where new pieces weren't added at the same pace as old pieces were lost. Ibtep's supply was running low, and the rivers of grain-sized beasts had turned into trickles. Too many had died prematurely, and those who survived didn't absorb as much as they'd hoped because accidents kept getting in the way.

Getting better at preventative measures wasn't enough to remedy the large drain on their resources. Zac helplessly observed the feedline grow thinner and be gradually pushed back toward the Yphelion. He couldn't couldn't think of a way to lessen the pressure on the larvae.

Zac would have much preferred it if they were facing a sea of enemies. That he could do something with, but how was he supposed to push back spatial corrosion? [Eye of Desolation] was his strongest large-scale blockade, and it would only last seconds exposed to the winds outside.

'I can only supply grubs for twenty more minutes,' Ibtep reminded through a communicator. 'Any more, and I'll have to use the breeders. And that will only buy a few more minutes.'

Zac sighed. The mission had seemed easy enough, but they wouldn't even last the projected four hours despite Ibtep using significantly more beasts than projected. The larvae were only designed to eat space, and the Zhix had been given too little time to adapt them to the unique graveyard's environment.

Judging by how quickly the feedline was thinning, they would have to leave almost immediately after they stopped sending out new larvae to replace the fallen. Leaving even earlier would be preferable, but it was not possible. The Yphelion was huge, and pushing through the debris field and feed line would most likely trigger an early collapse.

Zac contacted the bridge. "How do the readings look? Any change?"

'It's... suboptimal,' Galau answered. 'Leaving half an hour early is very different from waiting the full four hours.'

"No such luck, huh?" Zac sighed, taking a look around.

He could feel the building pressure. It was like space was buckled inward, and his Danger Sense had been at a low roar for the last ten minutes. The carapaces would soon reach their expiry date faster than they could clear them out. More importantly, they'd soon lose the strength needed to suppress the area.

There was no point in using the breeder larvae. They couldn't stay much longer anyhow.

"We'll have to rough it. Awaken Jaol and Mark and have them plot a course."

The duo faced the most exhaustion, so they were put in a specialized array similar to inducing a coma. It completely knocked them out, allowing them to recover faster than simply lying down and sleeping. The drawback was that it took a while to awaken someone from the arrays, making them unsuitable for someone on constant call.

Everyone knew what it meant to enter such a huge storm formation, and they fought tooth and nail until the very end. Even just a few seconds extra could be the difference between life and death.

"Return!" Zac eventually shouted, and a dozen streaks shot straight for the Yphelion.

It only took a second for the first explosion to erupt behind them. Zac paid it no heed, teleporting everyone into the ship. A sharp tug indicated that the vessel had set off, but it wasn't enough. Zac's danger sense spiked, and he looked on with horror as the corridor bent. Space was already collapsing, forming a dimensional well. Being dragged inside wouldn't be much better than entering a black hole.

Zac rushed toward the bridge, tightly grasping Galau's trigger for the still-unidentified Death-attuned system in case they couldn't break free. A sudden jolt forward allowed Zace to breathe out in relief. They'd broken free from the spatial pull, though that was just the start. Such a formation wasn't stable. It'd collapse, spitting out everything it had gathered and crushed together, including all the energy stored in the larvae.

The doors opened, and Zac stepped onto the bridge. Mark was back in the pilot's chair, looking much better than before.

"Thank you," he said without taking his eyes off his console. "Hold on, ladies and gents. This'll be a bumpy one."