Chapter 606: Blood God - Haka!
An unprecedented surge of power made the Swarm Tyrant roar with ecstasy.
It felt its vision and thoughts magnify enormously.
Every terrifying zombie monster was now mentally linked to it.
It sensed it could easily control their bodies, dominate their wills, and issue commands far clearer than before—far beyond mere "induce," "lure," or "repel."
These zombies had become a part of it—its tools and servants.
The mental enhancement brought the Swarm Tyrant an indescribable satisfaction.
The physical hunger triggered by its rapid mutation urged it to absorb more energy and vital blood from the pool.
The thought of hunger radiated outward from its form.
Nearby zombies, affected by its will, rushed faster into the pool, competing to throw themselves in.
They vanished within the blood pool, becoming nutrients for the Swarm Tyrant's growth.
It felt its control increase, its body grow stronger, and an unspeakable excitement spread.
What it didn't notice was: the more blood it devoured, the more reluctant it became to leave.
It craved more strength, greedily desiring to consume more.
Unspeakable, terrifying powers began to manifest across the Swarm Tyrant's form.
The red glow on its body shone brighter, extending its influence and control ever wider.
The cultists of the Church of Eternal Life stared at its form, envy in their eyes, regret rising in their hearts.
If they had known... no matter what, they would've—
Roar...!
At that moment, the ground around them collapsed into massive pits.
Twisted insectoid beasts crawled out from the dark holes, ravenously devouring zombie flesh.
Each was calf-sized, covered in dark-red chitin, with thick limbs and white, gleaming claws.
Their heads, taking up a third of their body, were short and muscular, built for brutal biting.
Four blood-red eyes sprouted on hound-like heads, scanning for prey even as they devoured zombies.
Their hunger was so intense, they soon set their sights on the cultists.
These were one of the Church's Swarm war beasts.
They were called Hounds!
Designed for hunting enemies and harvesting flesh—basic combat units.
But the cultists did not panic. They clutched their Swarm Mind Controllers and ordered the beasts to disperse.
"Get lost!"
"Go elsewhere!"
Yet, instead of obeying, the Hounds lunged forward violently.
Several cultists who failed to react in time were instantly bitten!
Their altered bodies were far stronger than normal humans—
But against the Hounds, they were still incredibly fragile.
Crunch!
Blinding white fangs shredded their bodies in an instant.
Two cultists with strong vitality writhed in agony, still alive after being torn in half.
Their suffering ended quickly.
The Hounds devoured them whole.
Alarmed, the cultists tried to flee, cranking up their Mind Controllers—or outright attacking the Hounds.
Their modified bodies gave them speed, helping them escape.
But they underestimated the Hounds' ferocity. The beasts caught up swiftly and surrounded them.
"What's going on?"
"Why are the Hounds attacking us?"
"Is the Mind Controller failing?"
"Has the Hive broken free?"
"Run!"
"Retreat!"
"No—Even the zombies are attacking us!"
"Ahhh—!"
"It's... the Bishop..."
"He betrayed us..."
"..."
The chorus of screams was quickly drowned in roars of zombies and Hounds.
A few stronger cultists fled in desperation.
They saw the Swarm Tyrant lift its claw and make a beckoning gesture toward them.
A blast of terrifying psychic power surged outward.
Boom! Boom!
The fleeing figures were crushed mid-air, turned into clouds of bloody meat.
"Hah, pathetic trash!"
The Swarm Tyrant grinned, revealing rows of gleaming fangs—delighting in their screams.
With the cultists dead, the Tyrant began absorbing the blood pool's power recklessly.
More and more Hounds and Swarm creatures erupted from underground with roars.
The Swarm Tyrant easily subdued them all, turning them into its slaves.
"Who... are... you?"
A mental voice echoed from below—but the Tyrant paid it no mind.
It poured out its will, summoning more and more Hounds.
Watching from afar, the cultists looked visibly shaken.
Their conversation revealed alarming truths:
"Swarm Tyrant's experiment yielded strong results..."
"But rationality decays quickly..."
"Can wrestle control of Swarm units from the Hive..."
"Massive rise in psychic ability..."
"Cognitive distortion detected—possible possession or parasitic influence..."
"This kind of flesh modification is extremely dangerous—high risk of losing control..."
"Immediately relocate the Hive—escalate assaults on the underground ruin seal!"
"..."
It seemed they had anticipated this and didn't care about the Tyrant's madness.
As if the Tyrant had only been their pawn all along.
Yet the chaos it created quickly caught Bloodmoon City's defenders' attention.
They saw zombies swarming—but even more dangerous Swarm beasts gathering—quickly sending out alerts.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Giant golem trucks smashed through zombies and rammed into Bloodmoon's outer defenses before encirclement.
The trucks' roofs were littered with zombie corpses.
Cannons kept firing, shredding pursuing zombies.
Spotting Bay Territory's insignia on the trucks, Knight Harley widened his eyes and ordered the gates opened.
The golem trucks rolled into the city.
Once the gates closed and heavy barricades were stacked, the cannons ceased.
Under many soldiers' gaze, Thorn Chamber members casually exited the vehicles.
They immediately began cleansing the flesh and taint from the trucks.
Brown watched containers being unloaded, hesitation flickering in his eyes.
After thinking it over, he decided against contacting the Bloodmoon forces.
He'd barely survived—no point in making waves now.
Knight Harley noticed Adam Smith opening crates—revealing rows of black magic cannons.
Excitement glinted in his eyes as he asked:
"Were these magic cannons delivered for us? What are their specs? And the cost?"
Adam Smith smiled and shook his head, maintaining the weapons as he replied truthfully:
"Mayor Annie already paid. She authorized us to co-develop an underground ruin with Bloodmoon City."
Harley raised a brow, shocked. He had no idea a ruin's development rights could rival 3 million gold in military assets.
He dismissed it as an excuse.
But he quickly shelved the thought—the zombie army was already advancing.
Countless zombies marched in, surrounding a glowing red figure.
On the walls, Knight Harley lowered his spyglass, muttering in disbelief:
"That's impossible!"
Under the red light, ordinary zombies were transforming rapidly.
Their claws lengthened, bodies bulked up.
Gray skin split open to reveal swelling muscles.
They shifted from walking upright to crawling on all fours.
The grotesque transformation massively boosted their power and threat.
The one causing it all—was that terrifying Swarm Tyrant!
Harley had learned its name from Adam Smith's records.
And its zombie enhancement... was only one of its many powers!
Under pressure, Harley had troops install more magic cannons and turned to Adam Smith:
"Is there a way to kill that monster? It's too dangerous."
Adam Smith shook his head helplessly and passed on intel from Yaya:
"Its power's reached Legendary level. Unless it leaves the horde and swarm, we can't touch it."
Adam trusted Yaya and Lord Matthew, but kept quiet to avoid stirring trouble.
"Fresh souls. Living flesh. Delicious flavor!"
Staring at the city wall, the Tyrant spoke in a deep, eerie voice.
Its tone had changed—from cold and abrupt to arrogant and disdainful.
It was mastering its body and powers with increasing ease.
Two new arms sprouted, twitching unconsciously.
Fallen zombies turned to corpses—drained of life by those very arms.
They kept growing stronger—long, weapon-like blades emerging from their hands.
The Tyrant noticed none of this. It sensed nothing wrong.
It raised its arms joyfully, reveling in the obedience of countless minds, and gave its mighty order:
"Charge!"
The twisted zombies shrieked and surged at Bloodmoon City like a tidal wave.
Watching silently, 343 held back, remembering Matthew's warning:
"Don't act rashly. There are spies and agents inside Bloodmoon."
"Early skirmishes and attrition are vital. Gather intel before planning the killing blow."
"Wait for the key moment—then unleash everything."
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Magic cannons roared.
Spinning shells tore into the zombie horde.
The ground turned redder than ever as it soaked in the blood.
Hundreds of zombies fell—but the tide surged on.
Barrels flew forward, crashing down.
Flames erupted—Bay Territory's deadly combo in action again.
Waves of zombies were incinerated by fire-oil.
Harley watched a few zombies cross the flame wall—yet gave no order to ignite the moat, letting them approach.
Since the failure at the Scarlet Castle, Harley had studied and improved.
Though he hadn't joined Bay Territory's forces, he had reviewed many of their combat records.
He'd learned most from their defenses and battlefield judgment.
With so many zombies, fire-oil and cannons wouldn't last.
Better to let soldiers practice melee now than face disaster later.
Stray zombies climbed the wall—only to be crushed by activated golems.
A few made it past and lunged at the troops.
"Spear line—advance!"
Over ten spears thrust forward. The brainless zombies were skewered.
Some kept writhing—heads intact—unnerving the troops.
Their commander sighed in relief and shouted:
"Hit their heads—it's the only way to kill them!"
"They're dumb as bricks. Just stay calm..."
Zombies kept coming—only to be struck down by prepared soldiers.
Seeing the troops adjust to the undead, Harley eased and began adjusting fire-oil frequency.
He had to balance offense and defense—to train his troops safely and efficiently.
"Fire!"