132: Chapter 132 The Empress Dowager Orders a Full-Scale Counterattack

Deep within the rock layers, a faint tremor traveled along the ley lines into the core of the nest.

It wasn't natural stress, nor the rhythmic tapping of a mining drill—

It was a peeling, a cutting, as if someone were using a red-hot knife to gouge out the sinews from the earth's flesh.

The crystalline membrane was still oozing pale green energy, the edges of the cracks twitching slightly, like the wound of a living creature breathing.

This damage had lasted far too long, so long that even the lowest-level Worker Insects were beginning to grow restless.

In the darkness, a consciousness too vast to measure slowly opened its eyes.

It had no pupils, no physical form; it simply existed.

Eons of slumber had caused it to resonate almost at the same frequency as the planet's core, but at this moment, this external disturbance was like a needle pricking its neural center.

“The Spiritual Vein...”

The voice did not come from a mouth, but exploded directly within the Sea of Consciousness of all Zerg units—low, cold, and carrying an unquestionable authority.

“It has been touched.”

Countless insects within the hibernation chambers trembled simultaneously.

The Hydralisks' curled tail-hooks snapped open, the Blade-Wing Mantises' forelimbs sliced through the air, and the venom sacs beneath the Giant Scorpions' carapaces began to charge.

They didn't hear the command clearly, yet they instinctively sensed the danger—the Broodmother was awake, and that meant war.

In the deeper tunnels, a barrier condensed from biological secretions was slowly closing; it was the final natural line of defense leading to the core area of the Spiritual Vein.

But right in the center of the barrier, a slender crack was continuously expanding. With every inch it grew, the Broodmother's will turned a degree colder.

“They have dug through the Shell Layer.”

This time, the tone was no longer a statement, but a judgment.

“They are coming in.”

The consciousness spread like a tide, instantly covering the entire underground network.

Three hundred and twenty-seven branch nests, four thousand eight hundred and sixty-one combat units, and over seventy-nine thousand Worker Insects and Scout Spores all received the same high-frequency pulse: “Alert Rank raised to Crimson. All units activated. Prepare for battle.”

But not all responses were crisp and decisive.

In the Seventh Ring Corridor, a group of Blade-Wing Mantises that had just finished molting were still in a semi-dormant state.

Their ganglia reacted sluggishly to the sudden command; their limbs were stiff, and two even tried to retreat back into their cocoons.

This was instinct—in a long-term enclosed environment, a sudden mobilization would trigger biological resistance.

The Broodmother sensed it.

Buzz—

A psychic shock, so sharp it exceeded the limits of hearing, swept through the entire corridor.

That wasn't a sound; it was a rewriting of the rules.

All hesitation evaporated instantly. The mantises looked up in unison, uniform crimson pinpoints of light appearing in their compound eyes, their wings making a metallic scraping sound as they unfurled.

“The command must be executed.”

The Broodmother's voice rang out again, closer this time, as if speaking right against everyone's eardrums.

“This is not a defense; it is a counterattack.”

It didn't need to explain the reasons. Survival was the only logic.

The Spiritual Vein was the swarm's energy source, its evolutionary Foundation, and the bond that maintained the collective consciousness.

Once lost, it wouldn't just be the fall of territory; the entire race would degenerate into disorganized stragglers, eventually to be devoured by natural enemies.

“Pass the order.”

The words fell like a hammer striking a furnace.

“Stop them from mining the Spiritual Vein at all costs!”

The command transformed into waves of psychic ripples, penetrating rock walls, bypassing faults, and crossing underground rivers, reaching every corner within three breaths.

The Royal Guard Hydralisks tore open their back carapaces, revealing hidden bone-spike cannons;

The Armored Giant Scorpions activated their internal bio-batteries, their tail stingers charging to an incandescent white;

Even the lowliest Worker Insects began gnawing at the rock walls on both sides of the tunnels, using secretions to reinforce the paths and pave the way for the army's passage.

However, the exit was not clear.

At the main fissure, the collapse from the last battle had not yet been fully cleared.

Rubble was piled like mountains, with several dead black-armored insect corpses half-buried within, their shells still bearing the marks of high-temperature scorching.

Three Vanguard Hydralisks tried to pass through but got stuck in a narrow section, even breaking a forelimb while trying to force themselves free.

The Broodmother sensed the obstruction.

It felt no anger or anxiety. Its thoughts were like an underground current—silent but unstoppable.

“Widen the passage.”

The command was delivered with precision.

“Worker Insect swarm, execute immediately.”

Dozens of slightly larger Worker Insects quickly assembled; their mouthparts had evolved into efficient boring devices with a bite force of up to three thousand kilograms.

They lunged at the blocked area, their heads vibrating at high speeds, turning the rock layers to powder the moment they made contact.

Other small Worker Insects followed closely, forming a transport chain with their bodies to quickly move the debris to side caves.

In less than half an hour, the main passage's width was restored to eighty percent of its original size—enough for heavy units to pass.

“Vanguard, set out.”

The Broodmother ordered.

“Priority on speed, move stealthily, advance along the three main veins: B-7, C-3, and D-9. Target: the area within ten zhang of the excavation site's perimeter.”

The first team moved.

Twelve Blade-Wing Mantises were the first to leap out of the nest fissure, keeping their wing-beat frequency to a minimum as they glided along the ground, barely stirring a speck of dust.

Their compound eyes locked onto heat signals thirty li ahead—the residual heat emitted by the human mechs in operation.

Following them were thirty-six Royal Guard Hydralisks, moving on all fours with their bellies close to the ground, using a wave-like crawl to reduce vibration.

Their tail bone-spikes were retracted, leaving only the frontal sensors extended to catch any abnormal fluctuations in the air at any moment.

Finally, there were six Armored Giant Scorpions, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly.

On their backs, they carried unactivated egg sacs—the next generation of combat units to be deployed on the battlefield.

The army poured out continuously, like a black torrent surging into the subterranean labyrinth.

They no longer hid their presence; instead, they began to accelerate.

The sound of claws striking rock merged into one, low and dense, like some ancient war drum awakening.

The Broodmother remained quietly lying in the deepest part of the nest.

Its physical body never moved; it was a massive neural mass suspended in a pool of liquid energy, its surface constantly sprouting new nodes and connection lines, as if calculating the battlefield situation in real-time.

Its consciousness had already extended thousands of li away, tightly locking onto the advancing army.

“Remember.”

The final command was sent out, clearer than any before.

“Capture the individuals operating the ‘earth dragon’ alive. I want to know who dares to touch our roots.”

The moment the words fell, all Zerg units paused in unison for a split second.

Then, they moved even faster.

Deep underground, the vibrations grew stronger and stronger.

The wind began to blow back in.

In the once-silent tunnels, a backcurrent carrying a fishy stench swirled.

The army had reached the halfway point.

The vanguard was less than five li from the excavation site.

They passed through abandoned branch tunnels, crossed dried-up underground canals, and sped along a forgotten Ancient Insect Path.

It had once been a migration route for ancient Zerg, and now it served as the perfect shortcut for a surprise attack.

A Blade-Wing Mantis suddenly raised its wing, signaling a pause.

It smelled a new scent in the air—machine oil mixed with the scorched odor of spent spiritual energy, and... the smell of human sweat.

It looked back, the endless darkness behind it reflected in its compound eyes.

Then, it gave a slight nod.

The next second, the entire team started up again, their speed increasing by another thirty percent.

They no longer concealed their movements.

The ground began to vibrate slightly.

In the distance, a Spiritual Energy Lamp on a support beam flickered.

The attack had already begun.

It just hadn't been heard yet.