5: Chapter 5. The birds were silent, the leaves were still, and even the breathing of the tribespeople seemed to be choked.

The morning light had just climbed over the rocky ridge of the eastern mountain, and the wind still carried the chill of night dew.

Chen Wuwang stepped onto a protruding black rock at the edge of the mineral vein, the sole of his boot crushing a patch of dry, cracked moss.

His right hand rested lightly on the hilt of the dagger at his waist, while his left mechanical eye was in a low-power scanning state. A layer of pale blue data flowed in the corner of his vision, silently recording the fluctuations of Spiritual Qi on the surface.

The team stopped fifty paces behind him. No one spoke, but their breathing grew heavy. They knew that the exploration had officially begun.

“Patriarch.” A voice came from ahead and to the side; it wasn't loud, but it was as crisp and sharp as a sword blade scraping across sheet metal.

It was Chen Xiaodao.

He was squatting in front of a rock crevice, clutching the old wooden sword that never left his side.

The tip of the sword gently cleared away the surface soil with extremely slow movements, as if afraid of disturbing something.

He didn't look up, his gaze fixed intently on the depths of the rock crevice, a vein bulging on his neck.

Chen Wuwang flickered forward instantly.

He covered the distance of thirty feet in the blink of an eye, landing without even kicking up a speck of dust.

He stood beside Chen Xiaodao. The three claw marks left by the Zerg on his right cheek glowed a dull red in the morning light, like a branded iron.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice kept extremely low.

Chen Xiaodao didn't answer, only using the tip of his wooden sword to gently nudge—

A smear of viscous, silver-gray substance was attached to the inner wall of the rock crevice. It was semi-dry, with a strange oily sheen on its surface.

It didn't look like common insect secretions; instead, it resembled the residue of some oxidized metal, with edges slightly curled as if scorched by high heat and then rapidly cooled.

Chen Wuwang's pupils constricted.

He raised his left hand, and his mechanical eye instantly switched to microscopic scanning mode.

In his field of vision, the glob of mucus was magnified layer by layer: the molecular structure appeared as a nested spiral, with weak psionic pulses inside whose frequency perfectly matched that of Gold-Eating Insect larvae during their molting period.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

It wasn't a guess or a suspicion; it was solid evidence—Gold-Eating Insects had been here, and within the last twelve hours.

He snapped his head up and scanned the surroundings. The surface of this mineral vein seemed calm, but what about underground? Those crisscrossing mine shafts, the unexplored deep fissures... who could guarantee there wasn't a hive incubating inside?

“Everyone!” His voice suddenly rose, its penetrating power like a blade cutting through the air. “Fall back a hundred meters! Now! Do not stop!”

As the order left his mouth, the thirty-plus clan members moved immediately. No questions, no hesitation.

The images of working through the night in the previous chapter and that pickaxe smashing the rock were still in their minds. They trusted this man, even if he had only ordered the departure last night and was now suddenly calling for a retreat.

The sound of footsteps was hurried but not chaotic as they rapidly withdrew. Some looked back, some kept their hands on their weapons, and the atmosphere instantly tightened to the breaking point.

Chen Wuwang didn't move.

He stood where he was, his right fingers unconsciously tapping the surface of the stone platform, once, then again, with a rhythm as steady as a programmed timer. This was a habit of his—whenever the System was about to pop up an instruction, he would tap like this, as if entering a confirmation code into an invisible interface.

Buzz—

Deep within his Sea of Consciousness, the holographic computer interface quietly emerged. A blood-red warning box jumped out with only a short line of text:

[Zerg Broodmother has detected you; suggest activating spiritual formation defense]

There was no explanation, no elaboration, just a cold heavenly secret instruction. But it came at the perfect time, and it was enough to make one's skin crawl.

The Broodmother had detected them? What did that mean? It meant their actions had been locked onto, and every subsequent step could be walking into a trap laid by the opponent.

Even more terrifying was that since the Broodmother had noticed, she would certainly not just send a few larvae to test them.

But he couldn't panic now.

He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, his gaze was as deep as a cold pool. He calmly closed the System interface and slowly scanned the terrain of the mineral vein before him—the rising and falling rock layers, the exposed spirit ore belt, several natural depressions... these weren't just ordinary landforms, but the embryonic form of a natural formation base.

Ling Zhenzi had said that the flow of the earth's veins determines the load-bearing capacity of a spiritual formation. Here, it just so happened that an implicit Spiritual Vein ran three hundred feet underground. If he used three high points as anchors to set up an Elementary warning formation, it would be enough to hold out until reinforcements arrived.

The problem was, who would preside over the formation? Was there enough time? Were the Materials available?

He had no answers, but he knew it had to be done.

“Xiao Dao,” he suddenly spoke, his voice not loud but carrying an unquestionable weight.

“Present.” Chen Xiaodao was still half-kneeling in place, his wooden sword held horizontally in front of him, his gaze still locked on that rock crevice. His shoulders were tense, as if ready to pounce in at any moment.

“You were the first to discover the mucus just now,” Chen Wuwang looked at him. “Your reaction was fast.”

“I smelled it.” Chen Xiaodao finally looked up, his eyes cold as frost. “That smell... it was there in the ruins when I was five. Fishy, but not the smell of blood. It’s metal rust mixed with rotting earth; if you swallow it, it’ll rot your throat.”

He spoke very calmly, but Chen Wuwang could hear what was suppressed beneath—hate, a bottomless hate. This child wasn't afraid of insects; he wanted to kill them.

“Then you will believe what I say next.” Chen Wuwang stared at him. “Retreat ten steps now and stand guard; do not approach that crevice. I am going to set up a defensive line. If you act on your own and damage a formation node, everyone in this mineral vein will die with you.”

Chen Xiaodao's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just lowered his head and replied, “Yes.”

He slowly backed away, every step like treading on a knife's edge, but he still retreated. When he reached the tenth step, he stopped, holding his wooden sword across his chest, his gaze scanning the surrounding rock walls like a hawk, his ears twitching slightly to catch any hint of an unusual sound.

Only then did Chen Wuwang truly breathe a sigh of relief.

He turned and walked toward the protruding black rock, leaping onto the top in a few steps and standing firm. The rock beneath his feet was hard and could bear weight, and the view was wide, making it perfect for a temporary command post.

He drew the titanium alloy dagger from his waist, its spine covered in micro-runes that glittered in the sunlight.

He didn't rush to act but looked around once more. The clan members were already lined up a hundred meters away, waiting for orders. Chen Tiezhu's figure was faintly visible, directing people to check the toolboxes. In the distance, the mountain shadows were silent, and the wind blew from the east, carrying the smell of earth and a faint metallic rot.

Everything seemed normal.

But he knew the storm was already on its way.

He sheathed the dagger, rested both hands on the stone platform, and gently rubbed the patterns on the rock surface with his fingertips. He was calculating—calculating time, distance, spiritual energy reserves, and every position that could become a Array Core.

The System only gave suggestions, not solutions. This was its rule: it only provided the opportunity, not the execution. All layouts had to be deduced, executed, and the consequences borne by him alone.

He wasn't afraid of difficulty.

What he feared was being too late.

“Three high points: one here, one at the northwest cliff, and one at the southeast depression...” he murmured to himself. “A warning formation doesn't need offensive capabilities; as long as it can hold for thirty breaths, it'll be enough to send word back to the village and have Ling Zhenzi come to take charge.”

He quickly ran through several formation layouts in his mind. The most reliable was the Triangular Resonance Formation, but it lacked a core crystal; the second choice was the Single-Point Shockwave, which had a small coverage area but was fast.

He leaned toward the latter—what was needed now wasn't power, but speed.

As he was thinking, a movement caught the corner of his eye.

Deep in the rock crevice, that smear of silver-gray mucus... seemed to move.

It wasn't an illusion.

The edge of that substance spread outward extremely slowly, like a living creature breathing, or like some kind of signal being transmitted.

Chen Wuwang snapped his hand up, grabbing for the dagger at his waist—

But at that moment, the wind stopped.

There wasn't even a ripple, as if all the sounds in the world had been sucked away.

No birds sang, no leaves rustled, and even the clan members' breathing seemed to be choked off.

Only that rock crevice lay there quietly, like a half-open mouth.