Chapter 83: Son of Gaia

Adonsa activated its luminous organs, finally seeing the creatures’ true form.

One after another, beings resembling tangled balls of black oil crept toward it, opening vague, humanoid mouths to emit piercing shrieks—clearly hostile. These shadowy figures moved with remarkable sluggishness, slower even than ordinary people. Adonsa crushed three beneath its foot, flattening them as if stepping in a puddle of filth, splattering black ink across the ground and walls. The ink wriggled ceaselessly, persistently crawling forward. Beneath its foot, Adonsa could feel something trying to burrow through its skin and invade the Chimera’s body; no matter how many times it ground them down, they refused to die, clinging like sticky threads.

In the blink of an eye, the area was swarmed by these dark figures, surging in like a tide. The Chimera swept its three meteor hammer-like tails, clearing swathes of the tangled masses and smashing car-sized craters into the walls, but the black coils merely quivered before regrouping, circling hungrily once more.

Clearly, these creatures possessed extraordinary vitality and adaptability—ordinary physical attacks were useless against them.

“The Qilin Legion…” Adonsa recalled ancient records: the Black Death Emperor once commanded a deathless, tireless army composed of soldiers known as Human Chimeras—humans devoured and transformed by the Black Death Emperor.

A thousand years ago, these Human Chimeras were sealed alongside their master by some mighty power, slumbering until awakened by this group of uninvited guests. Starved for millennia, they had been stripped of all humanity, now mindlessly seeking any moving flesh to devour.

“Black Death Emperor, it seems you too have been pushed to the brink,” Adonsa mused.

It could feel that as the Human Chimeras awakened, their vitality was steadily waning—a slow but irreversible decline. The tomb may have imprisoned the Black Death Emperor, but it also delayed his demise; now, with the balance broken, the true end was near.

In a flash of lightning, Adonsa unleashed its tendrils, piercing dozens of Human Chimeras. Enhanced electrocytes discharged a thousand volts of direct current, instantly turning swarms of them to charred husks.

The tendrils wore a dual-layered skin: the outer layer a low-resistance conductor, the inner a high-resistance insulator, allowing high-voltage electricity to flow without harming the Chimera itself.

High-voltage proved effective, rapidly reducing swathes of Human Chimeras to twitching charcoal. Yet the once-mighty Qilin Legion would not be so easily defeated.

The remaining Human Chimeras, after convulsing from the electric shock, crawled forward as if nothing had happened, extending fiber-woven fists to strike Adonsa. The blows seemed trivial, yet packed enough force to pierce a grown man.

But their rapid evolution was more alarming; another round of shocks, and they would likely become immune to such voltage.

Even the charcoal remnants writhed—residual tissues revived, restoring vitality, consuming their own corpses as they regenerated, efficiency bordering on the grotesque.

Methane sacs in its throat swelled; Adonsa spat a thirty-meter column of fire, setting swathes of Human Chimeras ablaze. They writhed in agony, then turned to charcoal once more.

But again, survivors mutated, awakening heat-resistant traits, immune to flames, advancing on Adonsa.

With a twist, Adonsa lashed out with all its tendrils, sending the Human Chimeras flying. They splattered against the walls, then struggled to regain humanoid shapes and crawl forward.

Acids and toxins were pointless; these Human Chimeras, though seemingly primitive, carried the powerful genes of the Black Death Emperor. Cut to the cellular level, they survived, adapting their defenses to the environment—a flawless army without weakness.

Adonsa seized a writhing drop of black oil, analyzing it.

Indeed, the essence of the Human Chimera was plant-like; their cells possessed non-Newtonian fluid-like walls, granting immense adaptability and defense. Though movement was slow, their regenerative capacity was unrivaled.

Moreover, they communicated via a peculiar delta-wave, forming a highly efficient mental network. The more gathered in a space, the faster their evolution, the stronger their vitality—even their strength and speed increased with greater computational power.

This formidable physical resistance was clearly specialized for combat against the Pulsebearers. Even the strongest among them would struggle to escape the tidal encirclement of the Qilin Legion.

Fortunately, the numbers here were still too few. Adonsa had already destroyed most, leaving only a handful fully evolved, unable to shift forms quickly.

Adonsa didn’t need new tactics; alternating between electricity and fire, the Human Chimeras fell into chaos, unable to simultaneously evolve resistance to both.

Adonsa soon wiped out all attackers, carefully preserving their remains and some active tissues. It dared not store these potential vessels of the Black Death Emperor’s genetic will within its body; instead, it grew a pouch-like organ on its exterior for collection and slow study.

From the darkness, rustling sounds emerged—countless Human Chimeras advancing. The walls absorbed light and sound, so Adonsa noticed their approach only when they were close.

Unwilling to tangle further with these mindless puppets, Adonsa chose a direction and began reconnaissance.

Along the way, it dispatched mouse-sized splits to explore the cave’s branches. Sometimes it met dead ends, sometimes circled back to its starting point, as if the path was endless. Only its horizontal spiral sensors confirmed it was descending.

Then, the second wave of illusion appeared.

Upon awakening, Adonsa found itself surrounded by a strange magnetic field. Activating its sensory organs, it saw a crowd of hairless apes—humans—bowed in reverence.

As the vessel for its last consciousness was a massive tree, it was worshipped as a deity.

No longer dormant, it quietly observed everything around, feeling emotions it had never known in its former solitude.

People prayed, held rituals, offered their deepest faith and wishes, even though it had done nothing for them.

Filthy, sacred, trivial, grand, sorrowful, joyful, romantic, dull…

Human emotions became a tangible force, absorbed and stored within it. Every fragment of their scattered thoughts fascinated it.

Suddenly, it realized a strange impulse had arisen—a curiosity it had never felt before.

Closest to it was the priestess, who had lived beneath the tree since birth.