Chapter 741 Time to report

Down on the central mountain of bones, the three colossal, sixty-foot Mother Centipedes... the Peak Layer 3 and Early Layer 4 horrors... had shifted their massive bodies.

Their glowing crimson eyes were flickering, their long, pale antennae sweeping the air in frantic, agitated patterns as they sensed the sudden, unexplained loss of their elite line.

A low, deep, subterranean hum was beginning to build among the thousands of lower-tier centipedes on the floor... a collective, instinctual agitation that threatened to boil over into a full-scale hive panic.

Sol stood on the high ledge, watching the rising wave of thousands of venomous monsters with a cold, analytical gaze.

For a brief second, the temptation to jump down and slaughter his way through the entire sinkhole flickered in his mind.

With his newly verified biological blueprint, he could execute them by the dozen.

However, as he watched the narrow mouth of the tunnel behind him, Sol’s sharp, pragmatic intellect quickly asserted control.

"No," Sol muttered, shaking his head with a cool, dry smirk. "That would be stupid."

He was a master hunter, not a mindless brute.

Testing his pattern against a squad of ten elites was valuable combat practice. But fighting a horde of thousands of beasts in a closed, subterranean cave was a completely different story.

Even if he could kill hundreds of them without taking a hit, the sheer volume of corrosive acid two thousand centipedes would spray into an enclosed space would turn the entire cavern air into a toxic, melting fog.

The narrow tunnel would be clogged with multi-ton corpses, blocking his vision and movement, while the three Early Layer 4 Mother Centipedes could simply use their massive mass to collapse the cavern ceiling overhead.

Could he survive it? Absolutely. With his Free Use, his physical strength, and his sun core, he could systematically butcher his way through the entire sinkhole until every centipede was dead.

But it would be a colossal, chaotic mess, Sol thought, shaking his head. Swarming in an enclosed sinkhole means dealing with clouds of vaporized acid, blinding dust, and endless body piles. It would turn a clean harvest into an exhausting, multi-hour slog.

It was an unnecessary, messy, and exhausting grind that offered zero tactical advantage.

He had already harvested ten prime Layer 3 souls in a single sweep, was steadily repairing Orphos, and mastered the species’ combat mechanics.

There was no need to stay and wrestle with thousands of angry bugs in a dark pit.

More importantly... Sol paused, his eyes narrowing as he suddenly checked his internal temporal sense.

In the sunless, subterranean depths of the cavern, illuminated only by bioluminescent blue fungi and blood-red moss, there was no sun, no shadow, and no sky.

He had been so immersed in tracking, testing his patterns, and slaughtering the centipedes that he had forgotten how much time had slipped past without him realizing it.

Sol closed his eyes, calculating the hours that had passed since he had stepped through the ironwood palisade with Zeyra.

Wait a minute... Sol’s eyes snapped open, a look of sudden, mild realization crossing his face. How long have I been down here?

He closed his eyes, casting his perception toward the surface world.

Through the deep layers of stone, his connection to the ambient atmosphere registered the cooling, crisp shift in the mountain air above.

The autumn sun had long since dipped below the western ridges of the Great Orrath. The twilight had faded, the evening stars had risen, and the world was currently bathed in the deep, quiet dark of nightfall.

Which meant...

The memory of Veylara’s smoky, intimate voice from earlier that afternoon instantly flashed through his mind:

"Tonight... we celebrate properly. No envoys. No elders. Just the meat, the brew, and the fire."

And his own response:

"I’ll be there, Chief. Make sure the fire is hot enough."

A slow, self-deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of Sol’s lips. He lightly tapped his forehead with his knuckles, letting out a low, amused chuckle that echoed softly against the cave wall.

"Here I am, getting so caught up in cracking centipede blueprints and farming souls that I almost missed my rendezvous with the Chief," Sol muttered to himself, shaking his head."The Chief is waiting. I’m not missing the real feast for a pit of bugs."

Besides, there was zero reason to rush the hive harvest tonight.

The centipede colony had been nested in this sunless sinkhole for centuries, untouched by anything.

They weren’t going anywhere. Now that he had cracked their anatomical pattern, cleared the upper tunnels, and unlocked the key to executing them effortlessly, this subterranean cave was his personal, private soul farm.

He could return whenever he pleased, draw out a few dozen elites at a time, and systematically drain them until Orphos was one hundred percent restored.

Plowing through a panicked, acid-spewing hive of a thousand bugs late at night when a newly crowned, hungry Fifth Layer sovereign was waiting for him in a warm lodge was simply terrible prioritization.

"The hive can wait," Sol decided smoothly, turning his back on the glowing crimson sinkhole. "But my little brother doesn’t like waiting."

Without a second thought, Sol turned around and began his rapid, unhurried ascent back through the archway.

He stepped over the mountain of dead Layer 3 elites, navigated the dark tunnels with effortless speed, and climbed back up into the starry, bioluminescent upper cavern.

Ten minutes later.

FWHOOSH!

The heavy curtain of purple moss and vines at the base of the slate cliff face was pushed aside.

Sol stepped out from the cold, dark fissure, leaving the subterranean humid warm chill of the cavern behind as he walked out into the crisp, night air of the Great Orrath.

The surface world was bathed in a breathtaking, celestial stillness.

A vast, ink-black canopy stretched across the sky, dusted with brilliant, twinkling stars and a brilliant, silver moon hung high in the clear midnight sky, casting a soft, luminous glow over the towering ironwood canopy.

The humid heat of the day had been completely replaced by a sharp, invigorating breeze that smelled of pine, wild sage, and distant woodsmoke.

Sol stood on the mossy stone outside the cave, taking a deep, satisfying breath of the clean night air, letting the crisp breeze wash away the stale, acid-tinged reek of the subterranean depths.

He stretched his broad shoulders, hearing his spine pop with a series of satisfying cracks, then looked down toward the Veynar direction.

He shifted his weight, his feet digging into the damp moss, and exploded forward into the moonlit forest, rushing toward the Veynar like a streak of lightning.

Soon from a mile away, he could already see nestled against the dark silhouette of the jungle, the Veynar tribe gleaming like a warm, golden jewel in the night.

Torches burned brightly atop the watchtowers, their light flickering against the towering timber palisades.

Plumes of pale, aromatic smoke billowed into the dark sky from the central hearths, and even from this distance, his enhanced ears could pick up the faint, boisterous echoes of warriors singing victory chants over bowls of fermented brew.

Sol’s lips curled into a slow, wicked, and thoroughly expectant grin.

"Time to report," Sol drawled softly to the night wind.

.....

A/N: Hey, it’s me again. *flashing a hesitant smile* Honestly, I didn’t want to bring this up, but the situation has become truly serious.

Over the past few months, things have been a complete bloodbath. All of our stats are in free fall, especially collections and subscriptions. However, this month has been by far the worst since I started writing this novel.

Compared to last month’s already low subscription numbers, this month’s subscriptions have dropped by more than 30%. Extra support has also fallen to an all-time low. No, it would be more accurate to say that it’s almost nonexistent.

As you can see from every indicator, this book is in dire need of your help.

So, this already struggling author humbly asks for some extra support.

Any help will be greatly appreciated and remembered for the rest of my life.