Chapter 113: The Black Blood Assassination

Scales, flesh, viscera, and bone were kneaded into a dark red dough by a distorted force field; the golden-white dragon scales embedded within looked grotesquely out of place, exuding a sense of cruel artistry.

Before anyone could even scream, even their sound waves had been twisted by the gravitational field.

Flesh and bone fell like rain. This brutal scene dealt a heavy blow to the Wyvern Knights’ soaring morale, but the Turtle-Backed Demon could no longer launch another attack.

Black Hand’s skin was violently torn open by black blood, transforming into countless blades and spikes that shredded all of the demon’s blood vessels and organs. A terrifying corrosive force permeated the creature’s entire body, dissolving even its steel-like bones into grit. Finally, countless spikes erupted from the demon’s epidermis, leaving it looking like an enraged sea urchin.

Just like that, a powerful demon was nonchalantly annihilated, skewered from its most vulnerable interior.

The black hole beneath the Turtle-Backed Demon suddenly expanded. Black Hand gave a forceful tug, dragging the corpse into the void and emerging a hundred miles away.

In a sinkhole far enough to be nearly invisible from the battlefield, the members of Prism stood solemnly before the corpse.

The Doctor’s high-frequency scalpel meticulously and laboriously sliced through the demon’s hide, carefully extracting the organs for on-site anatomical analysis. Simultaneously, he collected the tiny, fragmented purple crystals embedded in every energy node. Finally, he carefully detached the creature’s turtle shell—a massive, biological crystalline structure used to unleash its gravitational attacks.

The material value of this Turtle-Backed Demon far exceeded their expectations; it was well worth the life-threatening risk they had taken to slay it.

After fully recovering the precious materials, the Doctor spoke with grave seriousness: "This demon’s energy circuit is completely different from others."

Provence asked, "How so?"

The Doctor explained, "Whether it’s demons or magical beasts, they typically just consume purple crystals, break them down, and store the energy in naturally occurring circuits to unleash incredible, highly randomized power. But this Demon King-level entity’s energy circuit is too symmetrical and efficient; it resembles a high-pressure shunt circuit, perfectly conforming to topological mathematical models. Do you think that’s possible?"

The Doctor was quite confident in his professional expertise, his tone bordering on disrespectful, though Provence took no offense.

Provence signaled for Kander to step forward.

Kander, whose body was covered in nano-muscles, waved his hand immediately. "Boss, stop joking. My storage space is already packed with tactical simulation systems; I really can't handle this kind of biological analysis."

Provence wore a look of helplessness and could only say, "It seems we are in big trouble."

"Not necessarily," Kazan said, wiping purple-red blood from his hands. His skin continuously cracked and healed, revealing blades formed from congealed black blood. "Slaughter doesn't require world-ending power; it just requires delivering the most lethal blow to the right place at the right time."

Kander retorted irritably, "What are you showing off for? If not for my long-range vision monitoring the battlefield, the tactical simulation system pinpointing the timing, and the Captain’s precise spatial portals, would you have succeeded so easily? You’d probably have been crushed into a puddle of pig blood by a few hundred times the gravity by now."

Kazan narrowed his cold, sinister eyes, his voice dangerous: "A piece of trash hiding behind tin plating dares to talk to me? It seems we should have a chat about who is truly the strongest in this team..."

"Enough!" Provence forcefully nipped the conflict in the bud, his stern gaze suppressing them both. Kazan had no choice but to grunt coldly and look away.

Provence smoothed his tense face and said calmly, "Even a proper Demon King couldn't withstand our carefully planned ambush, let alone these genetically modulated inferior products. We cannot be too careless, but we shouldn't scare ourselves either. Kander, continue observing. As long as the number of Wyvern Knights remains sufficient to provide us cover, we may find opportunities amidst the chaos."

Kander acknowledged the order. Provence looked toward the intensifying battlefield and said earnestly, "Victory belongs to Prism!"

The death of the Turtle-Backed Demon drew no reaction from the other demons, but the pressure on the Wyvern Knights undoubtedly decreased, and their morale rose slightly.

But soon, no one could remain at ease.

A wyvern roared, preparing to unleash its dragon breath, but it suddenly stiffened into silence. Then, both dragon and rider were sliced cleanly in two and plummeted to the ground.

Something had sliced the wyvern from head to tail with astonishing sharpness.

Suddenly, the remains of wyverns fell like hail onto the gray, barren earth, only to be trampled and devoured by massive demons. Yet, there was not a trace of the enemy in the air, and a wyvern fell almost every second.

Kander gritted his teeth and pushed all his sensors to their limit, dividing every second into a hundred thousand frames to lock onto the target. Finally, he shouted, "Found it!"

It was a humanoid demon, its entire body covered in a sleek exoskeleton like a slender, perfect suit of armor. Its elongated limbs and triangular head were adorned with razor-sharp arm blades and rams. It had no wings, yet it flew freely in the air, even executing sharp, angular turns, passing through the wyverns' hard scales and bones as easily as a massless ghost.

Provence’s eyelids twitched. Due to resonance between their abilities, he felt a sense of familiarity. He was the first to point it out: "Spatial displacement."

Nash frowned. "Same as the Captain’s ability?"

Provence hesitated. "Not quite. I connect two locations in space to open a door for teleportation, while it displaces two blocks of space entirely, continuously shifting the space in front of it to its rear to achieve high-speed movement in disguise. Because it is a whole-block shift of space, it is immune to any inertia or drag."

Kander muttered, "That’s the basic principle of warp travel for a Level 3 interstellar civilization. How did it manage that?"

Provence tapped Kander on the head to snap him out of it. "Forget about that. You could say my spatial gate is the foundation for a Level 5 civilization’s interstellar gate. Superpowers are inherently unscientific."

Kander suddenly looked serious. "Superpowers aren't unscientific; they just don't conform to our current physical universe. The key to ascending to a Level 7 civilization lies in deciphering the laws of magic and technology."

Provence patted Kander’s shoulder speechlessly and said, "Keep at it."

Before Provence could devise a way to deal with the Blade Demon, more demons arrived, unleashing various mind-boggling abilities, making this day the most unforgettable nightmare for all Wyvern Knights in over a thousand years.

The unique telepathic connection between the wyverns greatly improved Ciroya’s command efficiency. Seeing so many terrifying demons, she had already abandoned hope of survival, wishing only to preserve as many seeds of their people as possible and eliminate as many enemies as they could.

Ciroya ordered, "Dragon Scale formation, wave-pattern fire volley! High-ranking knights, close-range dragon breath!"

Spear throws had infinite range, but the far more powerful dragon breath only had a range of about twenty meters, so only the Wyvern Knights with higher survival rates could be sent on such dangerous missions.

Over a thousand Wyvern Knights scattered, performing their duties in an orderly fashion, showing no sign of retreating in the face of the demons' overwhelming ferocity. They knew that if they stepped back even once, another one of their family members would die a miserable death.

The Blade Demon continued its rampage, and with every passing second, a Wyvern Knight perished. Ciroya picked up a small, square black box and roared, "Provence, don't be a cowardly turtle! Help us block that ghost!"

Hearing the hysterical screaming through the communicator, Provence could only shrug and say, "It seems they think we’re shirking our duties. In that case..."

"Let’s get to work!"