“Wait for me here. Don’t wander off.”
The towering Core-species said, lifting the male with both hands and placing him onto a stone ledge to the side.
The nest he planned for was not yet in his hands, so he had no choice but to carry the constantly endangered male with him. At times, this inevitably gave him the mindset of a single father raising a child.
Gela felt as though he were truly being treated like a larva.
It was a novel sensation.
His kin had held great expectations for the eggs, bestowing upon them names befitting their status as Core-species. However, the white male was born with genetic defects; when he hatched, he had been crushed at the bottom by his siblings, nearly dying on his very first day. Afterward, he became the larva the swarm had all but abandoned, and his original name was never mentioned again.
His parent had laid over a dozen eggs, every one of them exceptionally healthy, capable of becoming the swarm’s future reserves.
Except for Gela.
He reached out to tug at the worker’s arm, looking at the cold-faced Core-species with a timid expression. “I want to see what the bottom level of Angon looks like.”
He leaned his body toward Sakedi. “Those stone railings are too high; I can’t see.”
Once a cat realizes its owner is harmless, it will reach out a paw to push a water glass off the table, observing the human’s reaction even as it does so.
Sakedi clicked his tongue. He hoisted the male up with one hand and slung him over his shoulder, his entire being radiating impatience.
“Look quickly.”
The male let out a small hum. He didn't look toward the arena platform in the center of Angon; instead, with a curious gaze, he studied the worker from a vantage point where the other couldn't see him.
His thin, white scaled tail flicked back and forth idly, accidentally brushing against the back of Sakedi’s neck. The cool, delicate sensation made the Core-species shudder.
“What are you doing?”
Sakedi’s golden-brown eyes flicked up to look at the fellow sitting on his shoulder. Gela’s rounded pupils met his gaze, exuding an aura that seemed entirely innocent and pitiful no matter how one looked at it.
“Sorry,” the male whispered, his soft humming vibrating.
Sakedi set him down.
The male continued to radiate an aura of "I am weak and didn't do it on purpose." The tall worker stared at him for a moment. Just as Gela began to feel truly apprehensive, Sakedi reached out, gave his face a sharp pinch, and let out a lazy, snorting laugh.
“A cat with sharp teeth and claws.”
Seeing that the other wasn't angry, the male smiled.
He arched his body, leaning closer to the other, as if sharing an intimate nuzzle.
The elderly Angon administrator appeared once more before the start.
It looked at the two Zerg huddled together and gave one last warning: “It’s starting. Another high-level Core-species is appearing today. Unless your brain has been eaten clean, you’d best withdraw now.”
“That fellow was exiled by the Core-gene swarm. He came here specifically to challenge the victors of Angon. He is very strong.”
It continued, “Take your little mate and get out of Angon while you still can. Otherwise, he’ll be the one collecting your corpse!”
Sakedi let the words go in one ear and out the other with zero sincerity. He placed Gela on the stone railing at the end of the passage to ensure that even during the match, the male would remain within the corner of his vision at all times.
“He stays here. Keep an eye on him for me.”
He spoke while looking at the aged worker. The administrator had entered its senescence phase and was thus not very aggressive; it showed no signs of restlessness even when facing a male.
“Don’t let any other workers get close.”
Then, under the administrator's glaring gaze, the Core-species pressed a hand down and vaulted lightly over the stone railing.
He stepped out of the deep, dark, narrow tunnel and into the central plaza of Angon’s lowest level.
The area was vast and flat, built for the coming slaughter. Only in the very center stood a dilapidated high platform.
“Wait!”
Just as he was about to take the final step, Gela called out to him.
The white male lunged forward. Before the heavy alloy grate could drop, he leaned half his body out, caught the worker’s arm, and pressed his cheek against it.
Pale, soft lips—no different from a human’s—pressed against the Core-species’ skin.
Gela gave the Core-species a smile, as if suppressing his trepidation, and then scurried back behind the stone railing before Sakedi could make a move. It was as if everything he had done was merely for that brief touch.
The old worker standing nearby let out a violent snort of air.
“Ah! These damned little mates!” it cursed under its breath. “It serves you right that your brains get eaten!”
Once one stepped into the heart of Angon, the previously muffled sounds suddenly became thunderous.
It was the buzzing produced by the wing-beats of tens of millions of Zerg. Bizarre monstrosities were gathered densely in the depths of this nest-like structure. Zerg crawled in and out of every cave, while even more crowded near the center.
Another Angon administrator brought over several round stones used for drawing lots.
Sakedi’s luck in drawing lots had always been abysmal; he immediately drew three consecutive rounds of gauntlet matches.
The first two rounds were against two defeated workers who had lost their swarms. They had been brought to the energy planet as cargo by trade ships and then thrown into Angon.
The battles were easy and held no suspense.
At a speed comparable to finishing a plate of snacks, Sakedi quickly took down these two overly simple opponents. He stood up only after they had lost the will to resist and assumed submissive postures.
The audience was dissatisfied with this crushing playstyle and the lack of flying heads.
Sakedi was naturally somewhat rebellious. When he was human, the heavy burden of his public image rarely allowed him to act freely, but things were different now.
Currently, no one knew who he was.
So, he gave the spectator stands a gesture that would have been censored.
However, in the next second, young and strong administrative workers entered the arena and dragged the two losers toward the central high platform.
The tall Core-species watched this scene with cold eyes, unmoved.
The losers' shrill, buzzing screams were cut short as their heads fell. Blood, somewhere between pink and scarlet, flowed down from the surface of the platform.
Stimulated by the wanton spray of blood and pheromones, the atmosphere of the entire Great Nest turned frenzied in an instant.
When Sakedi looked back, amidst the bizarre and dancing swarms, there was only a thin white male at the corner entrance, pressing himself tightly against the grate. He looked as if he wanted to squeeze through the gaps in the bars, shaking his head at Sakedi with eyes full of terror and entreaty.
They were like two anomalies within the Great Sacrificial Grounds of Angon, Sakedi thought.
Now Gela didn't look much like a cat; with all his cunning faded, he looked more like a puppy abandoned in a tattered cardboard box.
Sakedi needed many things. For instance, a vaster star sector, the Red Tai-Sui, and energy planets.
But for now, he needed a nest that could fit one human and one Zerg, so he could pick up that unlucky and ridiculous dog-bug and take him home.
The accident occurred in the third round.
Just as the elderly administrator had said, another high-level Core-species appeared today.
It was a tall worker with a deep brown exoskeleton. The moment it stood before Sakedi, aggressive pheromones exploded outward.
An overt act of provocation, followed immediately by an attack that arrived like a shadow.
This high-level species clearly possessed more combat experience. In terms of skipping the talk and going straight to the fight, it was a textbook example.
This posture finally bore some resemblance to the Core-species in Sakedi’s memory.
When dealing with workers, any subtle or tolerant display of weakness would only produce the opposite effect; only by thoroughly beating them into submission could one settle things once and for all.
However, the process was unexpectedly difficult.
The first thing to be discarded were his human-form limbs. As his arms became covered in black scales, Sakedi’s center of gravity dropped instantly, and his speed increased several times over.
But the opponent was faster.
The dark brown worker’s silhouette was so swift it was hard to track. Areas that hadn't yet been encased in scales were quickly torn open by the opponent’s mandibles and hooked claws.
Since waking up from the pupa, this was the first time he had encountered such a troublesome opponent.
Hunting was a Zerg instinct. To hunt prey of equal or greater strength was, to them, more like a rite of passage.
The targets of their hunt included, but were not limited to, the humans of the past, xenogeneic pollutants, exotic beasts, and kin encountered during wars for star sectors.
A battle against a fellow Core-species was not easy.
Sakedi had been a human for over forty years and a Zerg for only a few days. When the gap in physical prowess narrowed, the proficiency of combat techniques became paramount.
The difficult opponent forced Sakedi to release his wings; half of his physical form now bore no relation to humanity.
Wounds of various sizes covered his body, and even his scaled tail bore several bite marks. The high-level species’ sharp accessory teeth pierced through the hard surface scales, tearing away large chunks of flesh and forcing the black Core-species to defend and retreat.
In the noisy Great Nest, all sound seemed to vanish. A silent vacuum formed between the two predators, both fixated on their prey, their attention solely on each other.
They circled one another, mutually wary, only to erupt simultaneously in the next instant, clashing in a frenzy.
The pitch-black monster’s scaled tail lashed out, its spine stretching to an angle unreachable by a human body.
Wings woven of steel rose behind him, providing counter-thrust to add fuel to the fire as his body lunged downward. In a posture that brooked no resistance, he tackled his enemy, slamming the equally tall and heavy high-ranking species violently into the ground.
Slightly corrosive blood splashed from both beasts, hissing as it kicked up green smoke on the giant stone-paved floor.
Soon, the smoke dissipated along with the chaotic explosion of stone shards. Fine scales flew everywhere, and the massive booming sounds were incessant.
Gaping, bone-deep wounds appeared on both sides, only to begin healing slowly in the next second due to the high-level workers' staggering self-regeneration.
The white male pressed himself tightly against the stone railing at the entrance, his fingers cramping from excessive force.
He had never seen Sakedi in this form.
The tall worker seemed to dislike his Zerg appearance, always ensuring the vast majority of his body displayed humanoid features. But now, the fine black scales had spread past his jaw, covering his temples at an even faster and more abnormal rate.
Narrow, deep slits opened beneath his golden-brown eyes, as if a second pair of non-human pupils were about to be born.
A state of Deep Alienation.
For a few moments, Sakedi was pinned down, taking several hits.
But immediately, the black Core-species turned defense into offense, throwing the enemy off and lunging straight back on top of him.
Sharp hooked claws tore into the wings, ripping from top to bottom with the force required to tear through starship armor plating.
The enraged dark brown worker let out a furious roar, its mandibles distending as its dagger-like accessory teeth bit into the black Core-species’ shoulder.
If not for their colors, it would have been difficult to distinguish who was who between the two tangled, mutated monsters. They fought amidst the filth, where old bloodstains on the ground merged with the freshly spilled gore, flowing along the spiral grooves of the floor.
Finally, the black worker found an opening. The brown high-ranking species took a heavy blow to the front and crashed down. Before it could scramble up, the enemy’s tail-whip followed, tightening around the loser’s neck and exerting further pressure.
But the frantic struggling of the Zerg below made it difficult to snap the hardened head off the neck in one go.
The black worker leaned down without hesitation, its limbs pinning the other with terrifying force as if to crush its body.
It was entirely covered in black scales. The respiratory slits at its waist and abdomen, hidden beneath the plates, pulsed violently with every movement.
The black Core-species’ mandibles split open, clamping hard onto the opponent’s chest plate, performing a tearing and biting motion.
Lukewarm liquid sprayed onto its body, slightly acidic yet sweet.
Amidst the countless chaotic noises, a small sound—like a soft object snapping—was clearly audible.
When it looked up again, its raised head was painted in heavy colors, forming an absurd image.
Clamped between its dense accessory teeth was a heart belonging to another high-level Core-species.
It loosened its teeth, and the heart fell straight down, hitting the ground with a wet thud.
Like an overripe, rotten red fruit, it continued to quiver slightly.
The air froze for an instant.
Both pairs of wings were fully unfurled, the black tail-whip coiled behind it. Fine scales covered almost the entire body of the worker, indicating that this elegantly formed high-ranking species was transitioning toward an even deeper level of alienation.
Powerful, sturdy hooked claws could easily tear through the armor of a light patrol ship. The respiratory slits at the waist pulsed, and overwhelming pheromones flooded the arena.
Those eyes had almost entirely abandoned their brown hue, leaving only molten gold. The thin pupils elongated into slits, and the cracks beneath the eyes were clearly visible.
It stepped lightly over the loser’s corpse and leaped onto the high platform.
The white male gripped the stone railing at the tunnel exit tightly, his four eyes wide as he looked at the black Core-species in the center of the arena.
Fear made his entire body tremble, but at the same time, another unknown emotion made Gela’s blood run hot. His scaled tail couldn't help but curl gently, as if wanting to coil around something.
Gripping the edge of the stone railing to keep himself from sliding down, the male’s scent gland could almost sense a pungent, metallic taste like rust.
The high-ranking species stood at the very center of the entire Angon nest, crouched on all fours in a posture vastly different from a human’s. Its spine was straight, its steel-whip tail prowling behind it. Surrounded by the buzzing swarms and watched by countless grand, downcast, grotesque head carvings, it stood silently upon the messy ruins.
Blood flowed along the patterns of the floor, spreading into a giant spiral design.
It looked like a victor who had slaughtered all its high-level siblings and kin in a struggle; the scene of direct descendants killing one another was reenacted at this moment.
The buzzing sound quieted for a second, then grew even louder with a wave of fanaticism, filling the entire nest in rising and falling swells. The sound of Zerg flapping their wings was noisy and dense. Their mandibles and abdominal cavities vibrated, ten million mouths converging into a single language, creating a bizarre resonance within the circular space like endless whispering.
As its head turned, the black Core-species looked down at the surrounding Zerg.
Blood dripped slowly from its jaw.
This monster, newly born into the universe, stood upon the filth and let out the first sound since opening its eyes—a long, strange, and haunting cry.
***
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Sacre-D: Reborn as the Swarm's Apex | Chapter 11 | The Victor's Primal Cry | Novela.app | Novela.app
