121: Chapter 121 A faint scraping sound came from underground, the sound of hard mouthparts gnawing at the rock.

The earth dragon's drill had just cut into the eighty-zhang rock layer, and the vibration waveform was still as flat as a straight line, but the next instant, the curve on the monitoring rune board jerked violently—

It wasn't the slowly rising arc of natural stress, but rather, as if slashed by a blade, it instantly exploded into a jagged shape.

"Stop!" Chen Wuwang let out a low shout, his fingers already pressed against the edge of the terminal.

His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye automatically switched to spectrum mode, and a pale blue light screen instantly flashed three sets of data streams: the deep-layer temperature plummeted by 0.6 degrees, the Spiritual Qi dissipation value soared from 0.05% to 1.3%, and the most critical part was the life signal spectrum—

One hundred and twenty zhang underground, a dense cluster of heat sources was moving rapidly in a swarm trajectory; the speed wasn't fast, but the direction was clear: heading straight for the main tunnel.

His pupils constricted.

It wasn't the mineral vein trembling on its own; it was a living creature.

The Bug race.

The last time he saw this kind of swarm-style movement was three years ago, on that night of the village massacre.

Back then, he had just transmigrated and hadn't figured out how this world worked yet, only to watch the entire Chen Family Village collapse in a mist of blood.

This morning he still felt things were going too smoothly; sure enough, the heavens wouldn't just give you a Spiritual Vein to pick up for free.

The public channel was still broadcasting the excavation progress: "The third section is advancing normally, the cooling team's inspection is complete..."

Chen Wuwang raised his hand, cutting off the broadcast directly, and an encrypted channel popped up.

"Xiao Dao." His voice was kept extremely low, yet it struck like an iron nail driven into a rock crevice, "Take men down, below ninety zhang, investigate the anomaly."

As his voice fell, a figure on the other side of the high slope already moved.

Chen Xiaodao had been leaning against the Spiritual Qi conduction pipe, his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Upon hearing the order, he didn't even ask a question, flipping up and leaping into action. With a flick of his right hand, three micro-shock-blast talismans slid down along the rock wall, precisely wedging into the predetermined crevices.

He tapped his toes, and his entire body shot off like an arrow from a bowstring, sliding rapidly down the rappelling rope. Six Sword Cultivators followed closely behind him, their movements as synchronized as a blade being drawn from its scabbard.

The illumination runes inside the tunnel began to flicker.

It wasn't unstable electricity; it was some kind of high-frequency vibration interfering with the Spiritual Energy circuits.

In the flickering light, slime seeped out from the crevices in the rock wall, glowing with a ghostly green luster, looking like traces left by some kind of crustacean creature crawling by.

Chen Xiaodao landed as lightly as a falling leaf, his left arm's Mechanical Prosthetic limb joints making micro-adjustments as the temperature sensing module activated.

A faint scratching sound came from underground; it wasn't the friction of rock, but the sound of hard mouthparts gnawing at the rock layer, dense like raindrops hitting roof tiles.

He didn't wait.

His sword left its sheath by three inches, and a strand of Sword Qi, as thin as a hair, swept out, precisely slicing open a section of loose rock ten zhang ahead.

Boom!

Gravel flew, and before the dust had settled, seven or eight black-armored Bug race members had already poured out from the breach.

They were the size of dogs, with hooked limbs, and when their mouthparts opened, they revealed three rows of rotating blades. Foul-smelling green blood sprayed everywhere, sizzling as it corroded the rune board.

"Form up!" Chen Xiaodao shouted low, and his sword light surged violently.

In the blink of an eye, he stepped forward, his sword edge slashing diagonally, cleanly decapitating three Worker Ants that were pouncing on the team members at the rear, their corpses twitching as they fell to the ground.

He threw a backhand toss, and a shock-blast talisman embedded itself into the entrance of the nest on the side wall, exploding with a roar and briefly forcing back the swarm.

"Ten zhang down, set up a defense at the fork!" After shouting this, he led the team to force their way forward.

Sword shadows swept through the dust, the man in front, the light behind, like a bolt of lightning tearing through the darkness.

On the ground command platform side, the sounds of battle were clearly transmitted back through the communication channel: the sounds of metal tearing, high-frequency hissing, Sword Qi cutting through the air, and muffled explosions all blended together.

The dispatcher's hands shook so much they almost couldn't hold the recording board; the technicians stopped the work in their hands, some subconsciously taking half a step back, their eyes glazed over.

Chen Wuwang took a step onto the highest level of the command platform.

His left hand lightly pressed on the hilt of his dagger, and his right hand was raised, palm outward, making a "quiet" gesture.

The entire venue instantly went silent.

He stood there, his silvery-white long hair whipped up by the wind, the three claw marks on his right cheek reflecting the dark color of an old scar under the sunlight, his left Mechanical Prosthetic Eye continuously scanning the underground data, yet he didn't say a single superfluous word.

"Continue monitoring." He spoke, his voice not loud, but like a hammer striking an anvil, "Cooling team, double your patrols; other posts, stand by in position. This is not a rout; it is an encounter battle. Our people are holding on down below—we must let them return with peace of mind."

No one spoke.

Some lowered their heads to recheck equipment, some hurried toward the cooling area, and even their breathing became lighter.

He knew what they were afraid of. They were afraid of the Bug tide, afraid of a repeat of that night three years ago.

But now it was different. Back then, he didn't have a System, didn't have mecha, didn't have Formation chips, and could only hold the children in the ruins and stare helplessly.

Now, he had a blade, an eye, and a brain.

His fingertips swiped across the terminal, bringing up the three-dimensional model of the underground.

Chen Xiaodao's team had arrived at the ninety-zhang fork, their Sword Intent fluctuations were stable, and the seven people were positioned closely together, not dispersed.

The Bug race heat sources were concentrated between eighty-five and ninety-five zhang, with a count of about thirty; no elite units were seen, nor was a hive signal detected.

It was a vanguard, not an all-out attack.

His heart eased slightly.

But this restlessness didn't feel right. The Spiritual Vein had just awakened; the Bug race shouldn't have reacted so quickly.

Unless... they had been down there the whole time, and were only disturbed by the excavation.

His fingers unconsciously tapped on the edge of the platform—three short, two long, and one short.

The rhythm hadn't changed.

In the communication channel, the sounds of battle were still continuing. The sounds of Sword Qi cutting through the air were dense, mixed with the shrill screams of the Bug race before death.

Chen Xiaodao hadn't sent a distress signal, nor had he reported any casualties, which meant he was still in control of the situation.

But just at this moment, the Mechanical Prosthetic Eye captured a trace of an anomaly: in the deep-layer vibration waveform, a very short, regular pulse appeared, with an interval of 0.8 seconds, disappearing in less than two seconds.

It didn't look like biological activity.

It looked like... a signal.

He narrowed his eyes.

Could the Bug race transmit signals? Or was it to say, there was more than just the Bug race down there?

He didn't move, still standing on the high slope, like a nail driven into the wind.

He slowly withdrew his right hand, resting it on the hilt of his dagger, his knuckles turning slightly white.

The battle underground was still continuing.

A flash of sword light, and another Soldier Bug was cut in half at the waist, green bodily fluid spraying onto the rock wall, corroding small holes into it.

Chen Xiaodao caught his breath, the tip of his sword touching the ground, using the force to spin his body and dodge the pounce of another bug, while simultaneously throwing out a micro-rune thunder, which collapsed the side wall passage, temporarily blocking the Bug swarm's reinforcements.

"Hold the left side!" He shouted, his voice echoing in the tunnel.

A response came through the communication channel: "Received! The left side is secure!"

He looked up above; dust and smoke filled the air, making it impossible to see the command platform. But he knew that Chen Wuwang must be watching.

He was not afraid of death.

At the age of five, he had been able to crawl out from a pile of corpses, still clutching half a wooden sword in his hand; his life had long since ceased to be his own.

What he feared was being a burden to others, feared disappointing Chen Wuwang, feared that if this battle was lost, no one would dare to believe in the phrase "technology can conquer destiny" in the future.

Therefore, he could not retreat.

The sword left its sheath again, its cold light like snow.

On the ground, Chen Wuwang stared at the data stream and suddenly discovered—the movement trajectory of the Bug race heat sources had begun to form a circular encirclement.

It wasn't a chaotic charge.

It was a tactical flanking maneuver.

His eyes sharpened.

Just at this moment, Chen Xiaodao's voice came through the communication channel, calm to the point of being cold:

"Family Head, the fork has been cleared, there is another passage below. I will take five men to continue exploring downward, while the rest remain to defend the front line."

"Granted." Chen Wuwang answered crisply.

He knew what Chen Xiaodao meant. If they didn't dig out the root, no one would be able to sleep tonight.

He turned around, picked up the terminal, and prepared to retrieve the deeper geological map.

The wind blew from the east, carrying the scent of earth and metal, and also... a trace of an extremely faint, fishy sweetness.

Like blood.