Chapter 737: Key To Their Quick Demise

Sol tapped his feet against the stone wall, launching himself over the sweeping body, landing lightly behind its third segment.

Before he could strike, the centipede’s rear legs locked onto the stone, its upper body snapping backward at a freakish, 180-degree angle, its dripping mandibles snapping toward his face!

"Woah there!" Sol laughed, tilting his head back just enough for the dripping jaws to miss his throat by an inch.

The centipede was becoming increasingly enraged.

To this ancient subterranean predator, this tiny, two-legged creature was dodging every single one of its lethal strikes with infuriating, lazy ease... jumping over its sweeps, stepping inside its jaw-snaps, and casually vaulting off its armor like a nimble mountain monkey.

SKREEEEEEE!

The beast’s attacks grew more fierce, more erratic, and vastly more violent. It thrung its heavy body against the cavern walls, trying to crush Sol against the rock, spitting smaller bursts of acid while simultaneously sweeping its tail to cut off his escape routes.

Sol danced between the strikes like a ghost in the crimson gloom. He ducked, flipped, stepped on the beast’s own armor plates, and leaned his torso back by mere inches as acid sprayed over his head.

Every time the beast tried to trap him against the tunnel wall, Sol used a micro-burst of physical power to leap off the slate, resetting the distance.

Yet, through all the chaotic attacks, Sol’s mind remained completely cold, mapping every single movement, twitch, and muscle contraction of the beast.

It doesn’t just attack randomly, Sol analyzed rapidly, his neon-crimson eyes tracking every muscle contraction beneath the beast’s black chitin.

And slowly, a clear, unmistakable biological pattern emerged.

Sol’s crimson eyes glinted with sharp realization as he pieced the mechanics together.

Gotcha, Sol thought, a dark smile touching his lips.

Despite their terrifying speed and multi-segmented flexibility, giant centipedes... much like their smaller, real-world counterparts... were bound by rigid anatomical laws:

First: The Antenna. Exactly two heartbeats before the beast unleashed a direct mandible lunge or a venom spray, its two main head-antennae twitched upward in a rapid, double-flick gesture to lock onto the target’s precise location.

Second: The Leg Anchor. Because of their immense forty-foot weight, the centipede could not whip its body or sweep its tail without first firmly locking the middle eight pairs of legs into the stone floor to create a physical fulcrum.

The moment those middle legs clamped down, the lower body was committed to a single, unalterable arc. And its tail sweep is never a standalone attack.

It only sweeps its tail to the right when its head is turning to the left, using the counter-weight of its massive body to maintain balance.

Third, and most important one:

Sol’s eyes narrowed as he ducked under another sweeping mandible strike.

The Armor Gap. While their dorsal chitinous plates were thick enough to tank heavy weapon strikes, the overlapping plates curve backward. Right beneath the third thoracic segment... directly behind the main head-joint... there existed a microscopic, two-inch gap in the armor where the ventral nerve cord was protected only by soft, unarmored cartilage.

If a blade entered at a forty-five-degree upward angle through that specific joint, it bypassed the heavy plates entirely and pierced straight into the central brainstem.

Three rules, Sol noted inwardly, his feet coming to a graceful halt on the stone floor ten paces from the monster. That’s all it takes to break this entire species.

The Layer 3 centipede, completely unaware that its entire biological pattern had just been dissected and laid bare, let out a furious, wet shriek, growing furious that this tiny two-legged creature was dodging every strike like a fleeting shadow.

SKREEEEEEE!

Its antennae twitched twice in rapid succession—Pattern One.

There it is, Sol thought.

Its middle eight pairs of yellow legs clamped firmly into the slate floor—Pattern Two.

The monster launched its forty-five-foot frame forward in a final, furious, mouth-gaping charge, its dripping mandibles spread wide to swallow Sol whole!

The exact millisecond the beast’s legs locked into the floor, Sol stepped forward!

His body vanished in a burst of speed so extreme it left an afterimage in the crimson light!

He didn’t dodge. He didn’t flip sideways, nor did he jump into the dark ceiling shadows.

He stepped straight forward into the charge.

As the massive, venom-slick jaws snapped down toward his head, Sol ducked his torso half an inch beneath the left mandible. He glided smoothly past the biting jaws, his body sliding right along the inner curve of the beast’s neck.

Because its legs were locked rigid to absorb the recoil, the beast’s upper body was completely immobile for that half-second window! It couldn’t drop its head, nor could it sweep its tail to protect its underside!

His right hand moved.

SHING!

The Dreadwing blade cleared its sheath in an effortless, blinding flash of blue light.

Sol didn’t swing with brute physical power. Guided by his newly deciphered blueprint, he held the blade at a precise forty-five-degree upward angle, aiming straight for the two-inch cartilage gap beneath the third thoracic segment—Weakness Three.

SPLICK!

The sapphire-tinted blade glided into the soft joint like a warm needle through silk. There was zero resistance, no clashing against thick armor, and no waste of kinetic force.

The blade entered the soft underside, sliced clean through the primary nerve trunk, and pierced straight into the beast’s central brainstem!

SKREEE—

The Layer 3 centipede’s ear-splitting shriek cut off instantly, reduced to a hollow, breathless hiss.

Its massive, forty-five-foot body froze mid-charge. The hundreds of twitching yellow legs along its sides went limp all at once, its heavy armored frame tumbling forward under its own remaining momentum, skittering uselessly across the floor before coming to a dead, motionlessly stop at Sol’s feet.

Silence returned to the arched tunnel.

Sol stood cleanly beside the giant carcass, holding the Dreadwing blade casually at his side, its sapphire edge dripping with a few drops of dark hemolymph.

He looked down at the dead Layer 3 veteran, then looked at his blade, his crimson eyes widening slightly in genuine surprise.

"Woah," Sol muttered softly, letting out a surprise, marveling chuckle. "...that was easy. A bit too easy."

It felt almost surreal. Just a few minutes ago, this exact same type of beast had used its stealth, its slippery carapace, and its terrifying speed to give him a brief moment of frustration.

Yet, the moment its biological pattern was solved, a bonafide Layer 3 monster... one significantly stronger and more battle-tested than its peers, a monster that could have wiped out an entire squad of Veynar veterans... had been executed in a single, effortless motion without Sol even needing to flex his sun core’s power.

Understanding the pattern really changes everything, Sol realized, his smile broadening into a confident, dangerous grin. Now I don’t need to waste energy wrestling these things. I have the key to their quick demise.

HUMMMMM.

Deep within his mind, Orphos gave off a hum.

A thick, unusually dense wisp of indigo soul-essence rose from the dead Layer 3 veteran, swirling into Sol’s chest and plunging straight into the spiritual sea.

The ancient compass devoured the high-tier soul with insatiable delight, repairing another hairline fracture along its crystalline rim.

Sol wiped his already clean blade on a dry patch of moss, sheathed the Dreadwing blade, and turned back toward the dark passage leading to the colossal subterranean sinkhole.

With the biological pattern of the giant centipedes fully mastered, the writhing sea of thousands of high-tier monsters waiting in the abyss below was no longer a dangerous threat.

It was an open, ripe harvest waiting to be reaped.