224: Chapter 224 Seeing the situation was dire, the Queen Mother ordered the Zerg to retreat.

Three hundred meters in the air, the wind was still howling.

Chen Wuwang's finger rested on the firing button; the white light of the six Rune Cannons had already locked onto Mo Yuan's chest. The moment the countdown hit "one," his eye twitched.

It wasn't hesitation; he had sensed something else.

On the battlefield below, the Zerg swarm that had been charging frantically suddenly stopped.

They weren't driven back or scattered; instead, it was as if someone had pressed the pause button. All the Soldier Bugs, Worker Insects, and Flying Carapaces froze in place, their antennae not even twitching.

A few seconds later, they turned in unison, no longer attacking any targets, and began an orderly withdrawal toward the Underground Insect Hives and Aerial Rifts.

Their movements were so orderly that it didn't look like a rout, but a military retreat.

Chen Wuwang narrowed his eyes, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye quickly switching to scanning mode, locking onto three Sentry Bugs retreating into a ground fissure.

A faint blue light shimmered on their backs, like some kind of signal resonance.

"Collective consciousness... giving orders?" he muttered to himself, his finger slowly releasing the firing key.

Just then, deep beneath the Eastern Wasteland, a low roar like rolling magma sounded.

No human could hear that sound, yet it vibrated directly into the nerve endings of all Zerg.

It held no emotion, no anger, not even a ripple; it was a pure command—

"Retreat."

The consciousness of the Zerg Broodmother permeated the entire underground network.

Its perception covered the life readings, positional coordinates, and combat status of every single Zerg unit.

It saw Mo Yuan's mecha twitching and tumbling in the air like an out-of-control iron moth;

It saw the Chen Family Main Peak's defensive line was as solid as a rock, the shields unbroken, and morale undiminished;

More importantly, it saw that its three most elite vanguard units had already lost forty percent of their strength in the recent battle.

Continuing the fight would only deplete its main forces.

And the survival of the swarm was above all vengeance, above all hatred.

It didn't need emotional judgment, only logical deduction.

Win rate below 17%, estimated casualties exceeding seventy percent, external allies neutralized, tactical surprise lost—the battle was irrecoverable.

Retreat was the only rational choice.

Without thinking for another second, it immediately severed the emotional link with the frontline units, leaving only the most primitive retreat command frequency, encoded in ancient Zerg tongue and spreading through quantum resonance.

First wave of commands: Disengage.

Second wave of commands: Prioritize protecting the egg-laying mothers and larval nests.

Third wave of commands: Block all exposed insect tunnel entrances to prevent pursuit and infiltration.

Once the commands were issued, the Zerg Broodmother's consciousness quickly withdrew from the battlefield, retreating to the silence zone in the deepest part of the planetary core.

There was no light or sound there, only heavy rock surrounding its massive mental core.

It no longer paid attention to the outside world and began organizing battle damage data, analyzing the Chen family's new tactical models, and preparing for the next round of simulations.

It knew it had lost this battle.

But it was still alive.

The swarm was still alive.

That was enough.

Above the surface, the Zerg retreat was like a receding tide.

The black torrent that had densely covered the mountains and fields quickly shrank into several thin lines, burrowing into ground fissures, sliding into canyons, and vanishing into the clouds.

The Soldier Bugs that had been spitting acid and tearing at shields just moments ago were now as quiet as if they had never existed.

The battlefield was left with only shattered carapaces, scorched earth, broken weapon remnants, and a few Zerg corpses that couldn't be carried away in time.

The Chen family defenders stood at the edge of the shield; no one dared to move.

They gripped their weapons, staring at the retreating dark shadows, their breathing becoming light.

Someone looked down at their hands only to find their palms drenched in sweat and the webbing between their thumb and forefinger rubbed bloody by the sword hilt.

"They're gone?" a young Disciple murmured, his voice trembling. "They're really gone?"

The veteran beside him didn't speak, only slowly lowering his spear, his gaze fixed on the last wave of the swarm disappearing into the ground fissure.

"Don't relax," he whispered. "This kind of retreat is even scarier than a charge."

On the Main Peak high platform, several Elders gathered, their expressions complex.

They watched the silver-white mecha in the sky, still hovering motionless, like a nail driven into the wind.

"Why isn't the Head of the Family coming down?"

"What is he waiting for?"

"He's waiting to confirm if it's a feigned retreat."

"But the insects are all gone..."

"Did you forget what happened three years ago? The Zerg feigned a retreat and then detonated three thousand Explosive Chrysalises from underground in the middle of the night, nearly wiping out the Zhao Clan of Xiling."

Everyone fell silent.

No one dared to say "we won."

Because they all knew this wasn't an ordinary enemy.

That was the Zerg Broodmother—a collective consciousness that had lived for tens of thousands of years, cold, precise, and never acting on emotion.

It wouldn't fight to the death out of anger, nor would it turn back out of humiliation.

If it retreated, it must have calculated the pros and cons clearly.

And now, it had retreated.

It meant it admitted defeat.

But it also meant it had a next move.

Chen Wuwang sat in the cockpit, his fingertips lightly tapping the control stick.

Once, twice, thrice.

As if writing code.

His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye constantly refreshed data: swarm movement trajectories, retreat speed, ground fissure closure frequency, Aerial Rift closing sequence...

All of it was recorded into the System backend, automatically marking abnormal nodes.

"It's not a rout," he said softly. "It's a tactical contraction. The routes are planned too cleanly; even the distribution of rear-guard forces is precise to the single digits."

He looked up at Mo Yuan's mecha.

That thing was still twisting wildly in the air like a Puppet suspended by invisible threads.

Mo Yuan's roars were no longer audible, but the communication channel could still capture intermittent mental fluctuations full of resentment and violence.

But Chen Wuwang no longer cared about him.

The true opponent had never been this mad assassin.

It was the Broodmother hiding underground, watching coldly, and leaving as it pleased.

He slowly withdrew his aiming line, and the six Rune Cannons shut down in sequence, the barrels emitting a faint "hiss" as they cooled.

"You won half a move this time," he said to the Void Realm, unsure if he was speaking to the Broodmother or himself. "But next time, I won't give you the chance to press the retreat button again."

The wind whistled past his ears.

He didn't pursue, didn't order the battlefield cleared, and didn't recall any troops.

He just sat there, his silver hair fluttering in the wind, his left Mechanical Prosthetic Eye continuously scanning every inch of change on the surface, while the three claw marks on his right cheek gleamed dark red in the setting sun.

Below, the clansmen finally dared to breathe a sigh of relief.

Some slumped to the ground, some broke down in tears, and some knelt to kowtow and thank the heavens.

A guard by the Medicinal Field held a damaged spiritual plant box, his fingers trembling as he touched the roots of a Xuan Shen that hadn't been completely corroded.

"We survived... we actually survived..."

"But does this count as a win?"

"At least no one died."

"But the Zerg could come back at any time."

"Then let them come."

"But can we hold out?"

No one answered.

Because they all knew this was only a temporary peace.

Like the silence before a storm.

The Main Peak shield was still glowing, the patrol mechas were still circling, and the warning bell hadn't stopped.

No cheers rang out, no celebratory wine was opened, and they hadn't even begun to collect the bodies.

Everyone was waiting.

Waiting for the Head of the Family's command.

And the Head of the Family was still in the sky.

Chen Wuwang finally moved.

He raised his hand and lightly brushed over the Titanium Alloy Dagger at his waist, its blade still stained with a bit of dried black insect blood.

He didn't speak.

He simply turned his mecha slowly toward the Main Peak direction, the engine humming as he prepared to return.

But at that moment, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye suddenly captured a hint of something unusual—

In a ground fissure in the southeast corner, just before it fully closed, the moment the last Sentry Bug retreated, a very faint purple light flashed across its head.

It wasn't a natural reflection.

It was information encoding.

His pupils shrank, and he immediately pulled up the high-speed video playback, analyzing it frame by frame.

The image froze.

In that bug's compound eye, the complete outline of the Main Peak's defensive formation was reflected, including shield nodes, mecha deployment, and psionic energy flow—

Everything had been recorded.

"Collecting intelligence..." He let out a cold laugh. "It's not a retreat; it's just moving to another place to keep watching."

He suddenly gripped the control stick, intending to turn back and pursue, but then he stopped.

He couldn't pursue.

The underground structure was too complex; diving in recklessly would be suicide.

The Broodmother wanted him to be impulsive.

He took a deep breath, suppressed the fire in his heart, and slowly pushed the dual sticks.

The "eye of wuwang" turned and flew toward the Main Peak landing platform.

The wind was still very strong.

He landed on the platform, the mecha's feet touching the ground with a heavy metallic thud.

The hatch opened.

He took off his pilot helmet, his silver hair falling loose, his face expressionless.

A group of clansmen crowded around below—Elders, warriors, and craftsmen.

"Head of the Family! We held them off!"

"The Zerg have retreated!"

"What do we do next? Should we pursue?"

Chen Wuwang swept a glance over them, his gaze cold and stern.

No one spoke again.

He stepped down from the mecha one step at a time, his boots clicking sharply on the metal platform.

Reaching the edge, he stopped and gazed at the distant land that had been trampled by the swarm.

Charred, broken, and riddled with scars.

But he knew that beneath these ruins, a pair of eyes was also watching this place.

Waiting for the next chance to strike.

He raised his hand and lightly clenched his fist.

"Issue the order," his voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. "Maintain Rank one alert for the entire clan. The defense System stays up, mecha squads will rotate on duty, and double guards are to be assigned to the Medicinal Field."

After a pause, he added, "From today on, all ground fissure monitoring points are to be encrypted to Rank three. If anyone discovers an abnormal signal, report it directly to the Central Hub without delay."

Having finished, he turned and left.

No one dared to ask, "And then what?"

Because they all knew—

This war wasn't over yet.