Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Chapter 258: Chapter 253: Deep Sea Camp

Thirty nautical miles from Minas Tirith Port, the deep sea was pitch-black.

Five Multi-Armed Race Warriors swam slowly through the water, their forms merging with the darkness.

Their tentacles pushed through the water, stirring a faint current.

"Tucker, expand your perimeter."

Captain Korsh’s voice carried through the water to his companions.

The youngest, Tucker, nodded. His eight tentacles stretched outward, sensing the surrounding vibrations.

The symbiotic sensory sac on his back pulsed, monitoring all movement within a hundred-meter radius.

Meanwhile, the Warrior Uru was using a tentacle to grab a deep-sea fish, tearing open its belly and devouring it.

Blue-green blood spread through the water.

"Uru, now is not the time for a meal." Korsh’s voice was tinged with annoyance.

"Captain, we’ve been in continuous combat for four days," Uru said, stopping his meal to turn to Korsh. "My combat strength will drop if I don’t eat."

"Those land-dwelling grubs are tougher than we imagined," another Warrior, Groom, spoke up. One of his tentacles was still wrapped in a bandage. "Especially that one who shoots plants."

Korsh swam to the front of the squad, observing the sea surface in the distance.

Moonlight filtered through the seawater, forming faint patches of light above them.

Uru tossed the fish bones aside and wiped the blood from his tentacle. "Captain, I think we should ramp up our attacks. Hit their port area directly."

"Absolutely not," Korsh immediately rejected the idea. "Grand General Grash’s orders are clear. We are only to conduct raids, not reveal our true strength."

"But at this rate, when will we ever complete our mission?" Uru grumbled.

"We’re returning to the encampment," Korsh ordered. "We will report the situation to Grand General Grash."

The five Warriors adjusted their course, swimming toward deeper waters.

After swimming for about three hours, Korsh sensed the biological signals of the encampment.

It was an undersea coral reef that they had converted into a temporary base.

As they drew closer, the full scope of the encampment gradually came into view.

Nearly a hundred Multi-Armed Race Warriors were bustling about among the coral reefs.

Tamed giant sea turtles were cleaning the surface of the reefs, clearing space for construction.

A few starfish with a metallic sheen carried building materials, moving slowly along the seafloor.

"Look, they’ve captured a new creature," Tucker said, pointing into the distance.

A group of engineers were calibrating a giant jellyfish.

The jellyfish’s tentacles had been modified, their tips fitted with sharp bone spikes.

Several technicians surrounded it, implanting control nodes at the base of its tentacles.

"That thing would be perfect for destroying ships," Groom commented.

A voice emanated from the largest coral cave in the center of the encampment.

That was the dwelling of Grand General Grash.

Korsh led his squad toward the cave.

Two guards stood at the cave entrance, their carapaces engraved with tribal markings.

"Is the Grand General inside?" Korsh asked.

"He is. He’s awaiting your report." The guards stepped aside.

The cave’s interior was spacious, its walls inlaid with glowing seaweed that provided illumination.

Grand General Grash sat on a central stone platform. His frame was much larger than that of an ordinary Warrior, and the tips of his eight tentacles glinted with a metallic sheen.

"Korsh, you’ve returned." Grash’s voice was deep and powerful. "Report."

"Grand General, we conducted four days of raids as you instructed," Korsh said respectfully. "The enemy’s response is swift, and their equipment is better than anticipated."

"Elaborate."

Korsh described in detail the course of several raids, including the enemy’s weaponry, equipment, and tactical responses.

When Korsh finished, Grash lightly tapped his tentacles against the stone platform.

"Interesting. Chieftain Unas will be interested in your findings."

Grash rose to his feet, his movement causing the water in the cave to churn violently.

"Our mission is not conquest, but assessment. Before the Chieftain’s main force arrives, I will present him with the most detailed report on this prey."

"Understood, Grand General," Korsh nodded.

Korsh led his squad out of the cave.

He dismissed his squad at the edge of the encampment, telling them to get some rest, then turned and swam in another direction—toward the medical area.

Cam was a good friend of his. Though not in the same squad, Korsh was still haunted by the brutal outcome of their encounter four days ago.

The medical area consisted of several tents woven from seaweed, which gave off the faint smell of blood.

Korsh found Cam. He was lying on a coral bed, his body tightly wrapped in bandages.

Of his once-nimble eight tentacles, only a single one remained. The severed stumps were slowly oozing tissue fluid.

"Korsh..." Cam weakly opened his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see how you were doing," Korsh said, sitting by the bed, his voice low. "How are you feeling?"

"Still alive," Cam forced a bitter smile. "The medic says my tentacles can grow back, but it will require a large amount of Original Blood Crystals."

Korsh said nothing, simply retrieving a red crystal of the purest hue from a pouch. It was their race’s most precious resource—an Original Blood Crystal.

"Take it."

"No, I can’t. This is your allotment. I can’t take it," Cam immediately protested.

"Just take it," Korsh said, pressing the crystal into Cam’s remaining tentacle. "Once you’ve recovered, you can earn me another one."

Cam stopped arguing and placed the crystal in his mouth, chewing it.

A red, energy-rich liquid trickled from the corners of his mouth, and the wounds on his severed limbs began to heal at a visible rate.

"Korsh," Cam asked suddenly, "why are we here? Why risk our lives like this?"

"For Original Blood Crystals," Korsh answered grimly. "Our tribe’s veins are about to run dry. This is the only way."

"But the land-dwellers here are too powerful." Fear filled Cam’s eyes. "You weren’t in that battle. You don’t know how terrifying they are... Have we picked a fight with something we shouldn’t have?"

Korsh fell silent.

Though he hadn’t personally been in that vicious battle, he had pieced together a grim picture of the fighting from the accounts of those who were.

He thought especially of the gray-haired youth mentioned repeatedly in the reports, and those never-before-seen plant-based weapons.

"Cam, do you know the legend of the Lord of the Gray Swamp?" Korsh suddenly asked.

"I’ve heard bits and pieces. Supposedly a powerful figure."

"But now, a port city stands in that very sea," Korsh said, frowning. "If the Lord of the Gray Swamp was truly so powerful, why would he allow that to happen?"

"Maybe a compromise, or maybe a partnership," Cam guessed. "Or perhaps... the legendary Lord of the Gray Swamp is already..."

Korsh nodded, but the unease in his own heart refused to dissipate.

As the squad’s most cautious Warrior, he felt that something was deeply wrong with this operation.

"Cam, you get some rest," he said finally. "I need to go think about some things."

Korsh left the medical area, swimming toward the edge of the encampment.

There, he found a quiet reef and sank into solitary thought.

The deep sea was terrifyingly quiet at night. Korsh gazed upward, toward the world where the land-dwellers lived.

They certainly held the initiative, able to strike at any moment and then retreat into the deep sea.

But Korsh couldn’t shake the feeling that they were facing not simple prey, but an equally dangerous predator.

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