Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Chapter 277: Chapter 272: Heaven and Earth Net

That massive net, hastily crafted with every resource Minas Tirith could muster, was pieced together from thousands of fishing nets, sails, and cables. Each main rope was saturated with preservative black tar, the joints reinforced with steel rings.

The massive net sank slowly.

It carried the hatred and fury of everyone in Minas Tirith Port.

Silently, it bore down on the intricate coral reef cluster below.

The water was displaced, forming a downward current that churned the fine sand and plankton on the seabed.

At first, the schools of colorful fish weaving leisurely above the reef were oblivious to the immense shadow descending upon them.

But as the current created by the descending net suddenly accelerated, panic exploded among the underwater creatures.

Some of the quicker fish began to dart for crevices in the reef, fleeing in a panic.

Most, however, were swept up in the chaos, slamming into the mesh. They thrashed their tails in vain, trapped between the ropes, and fell with the web of vengeance.

A sentry of the Multi-Armed Race was keeping watch from behind a tube coral.

His name was Kota. He was an experienced Warrior who had taken part in three raids on ocean-faring vessels.

He was the first to feel the change in the water, a downward current that grew stronger and stronger, pushing against him.

Kota looked up.

He saw a massive, grid-like shadow descending, blotting out the faint light filtering down from the surface.

The shadow was boundless; no matter which way he swam, he could not escape its reach.

He opened his mouth and emitted a high-frequency sonic pulse—the most urgent alarm of the Multi-Armed Race.

Then, he saw three even denser shadows looming behind the net, drawing closer...

Kota froze, forgetting even to move his tentacles.

Inside the coral encampment, the gloom of defeat had yet to lift.

Injured Warriors lay on beds of seaweed, groaning softly.

Ordinary healing potions had little effect, and the camp’s supply of Original Blood Crystals was long depleted. They could only resort to the most primitive bandages.

When the alarm sounded, a commotion erupted in the camp.

"What’s happening?"

"Is it an enemy attack?"

Dozens of Warriors who could still move swam out of their caves. They, too, quickly saw the darkness closing in overhead.

"What the hell is that thing!"

A young Warrior bravely charged from the coral. Raising the bone spear in his hand, he thrust it with all his might toward a thick knot in the rope.

"CLANG!"

A harsh, scraping sound echoed through the water as the spear’s tip slid off the tough, tar-soaked rope, leaving only a white streak.

More Warriors charged forward, biting, hacking with their weapons, and ramming it with their bodies.

But the massive net only trembled slightly before continuing its inexorable descent.

A Level 5 Warrior spotted a knot in the mesh. Wielding a pair of sharp claws fashioned from a great beast’s teeth, he propelled himself with his tentacles, shooting toward the net like an arrow.

[Roaring Charge]

He roared as his claws slashed down. Infused with his battle energy, the attack made short work of the ropes. Three of the smaller ones snapped instantly!

An opening appeared!

Seeing a glimmer of hope, the Warriors of the Multi-Armed Race let out a cheer.

However, before the cheers could fade, a dark shadow lashed out from the blackness beyond the net.

It was a Leviathan’s tentacle, tipped with a metal cone, crackling with faint blue arcs of electricity.

The tentacle churned the sea, creating a vortex as it viciously slammed into the Level 5 Warrior’s back.

"PFFT!"

The Warrior was struck as if by a sledgehammer, coughing up a mouthful of blue blood. The immense force sent him hurtling toward the coral reef, though the water’s resistance saved him from a direct impact. He landed on top of it and tried to right himself, but couldn’t immediately get back up.

Immediately after, two other Leviathans emerged from the darkness, their colossal bodies exuding an unparalleled pressure. Their tentacles, like patrolling pythons, sealed off any potential breaches. Any Warrior of the Multi-Armed Race who dared approach the net was mercilessly swatted away.

More Warriors were swatted down by the tentacles.

The massive net continued its slow descent.

They could only watch helplessly as the edge of the net met the reef below, sealing the final exit.

The cage was complete.

Grash, informed of the net by his lieutenant, rushed out of his cave.

When he saw the net blanketing everything and the three immense Magical Beasts looming outside it, panic flickered for the first time in his horizontal pupils.

He had never faced a situation like this.

’How am I supposed to deal with this?!’

Korsh swam out as well, looking relatively calm.

He swam to the edge of the net and extended a tentacle, lightly touching the cold ropes.

’Hastily spliced together, a mix of old and new, but incredibly tough.’

’He understood.’

’This is the land-dwellers’ revenge!’

The surrounding coral reef was no longer a defense, but the bars of their new prison.

A chill went through him.

「Inside Leviathan One’s command cabin.」

Velin stood before a three-dimensional nautical chart.

"Sea Wolf, your sailors do good work."

"Of course, my lord. When it comes to weaving and mending nets, no one’s better than us."

Sea Wolf’s voice, coming from Leviathan Two, was laced with pride.

"Sea Wolf, Ola, proceed to the next phase of the mission."

"Roger!"

"Leviathan One, move to Sector 07."

"Yes, Commander."

Leviathan One began to move, slowly positioning itself to block the main exit of the coral encampment.

He turned to a Mage at one of the consoles.

"Begin releasing the agent."

"As you command."

Several ports opened on Leviathan One’s eight tentacles.

Viscous, orange-yellow liquid was released in streams. Instead of dispersing, it coalesced into oily globules that, being far denser than seawater, began to sink slowly toward the coral encampment below.

An orange-yellow "rain" fell from the tentacles of the three great beasts, descending into the underwater prison.

Inside the encampment, the Warriors of the Multi-Armed Race panicked like headless chickens.

"We’re trapped!"

"There’s no way out!"

"General! General, tell us what to do!"

"What is that? Yellow stuff is falling!"

One Warrior curiously reached out a tentacle, touching one of the sinking orange-yellow droplets.

The next instant, his tentacle convulsed violently, as if struck by an invisible current.

He tried to retract it in horror but found his muscles completely unresponsive to his commands.

Intense pain and numbness spread through his body.

"AGH!"

He let out a bloodcurdling scream, curling into a ball and trembling violently on the ground.

The orange-yellow agent continued to settle, coating the surface of the reef and seeping into every cave and crevice.

Soon, a sickly-sweet, coppery smell filled the entire encampment.

More and more Warriors began to show signs of poisoning. Their breathing grew ragged as their bodies convulsed uncontrollably, sending them writhing on the ground.

Some tried to swim upward, hoping to escape the toxic zone, but they quickly grew weak and drifted back down.

The entire camp descended into chaos. It was every Warrior for themself. Some tried to find an untainted corner to hide in; others collapsed in despair, waiting for death.

"GET ON YOUR FEET!"

A powerful sonic wave overpowered all the groans and cries.

Furious red markings surfaced on Grash’s skin. With a single tentacle, he swatted away a Warrior who was convulsing on the ground.

"You want to die? Fine! But you won’t die here like poisoned fish!"

Thanks to his powerful physique, the poison had yet to significantly affect him.

At his call, a semblance of order returned to the camp. The Warriors who could still fight—about eighty of them—gathered together.

"We can die waiting here, or we can charge out!"

He pointed toward the main exit, the largest passage and the one best suited to leverage their numbers.

"The enemy is right there! They think we’re fish in a barrel!"

"All elites, with me!"

The twelve Level 5 fighters silently gathered behind him.

Korsh, though only a Level 4, trailed at the rear of the group. The poison had made his movements sluggish, but he gripped his bone blade tightly.

He watched Grash’s frenzied figure, knowing this was a hopeless fight.

’But Grash was right about one thing.’

’They were Warriors. And Warriors should not die waiting.’

Grash turned, his blood-red eyes sweeping over every one of his kin who could still stand. He raised his bone war axe and pointed it toward the deep darkness.

He roared, his voice seething with rage.

"Bite through prey, crush hard bone."

"Bite through prey, crush hard bone!"

The others roared in unison, knowing it might be the last time they would ever shout their battle cry.

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