Monsters Are Coming

Star Network Center.

Holographic projection screens flicker in the air.

Every player’s movement, every attack trajectory they release, including the live feeds of the Insect Army and the Black Tide Army’s movements, are precisely captured and converted into data streams, feeding into the central processor.

Every second is generating simulation content.

Consciousness data streams shuttle back and forth, every command is precisely delivered, slicing through the lines of the Insect Race and the Black Tide like a scalpel.

The will of the Earth Thought Evil Spirit covers the battlefield, the perception provided by the Evil Eye extending like tentacles.

Collecting all information on the battlefield, understanding every change on the field; no need for ears, you can hear every heartbeat on the battlefield.

The enhanced Evil Eye takes every detail on the battlefield into its grasp.

On the side of the Insect Race Mainbrain, the neural network covers the entire battlefield, every Insect Warrior is its senses, every fungal mat is its feelers.

No need for thought; it can instantly calculate the optimal attack route.

It is the pinnacle of evil among the three great natural disasters, making all decisions without delay or emotional hesitation, decisively sacrificing some individuals to ensure overall victory.

The will of slaughter sweeps through the battlefield, uniting the force of the insect swarm into a torrent of destruction, attempting to tear apart any target that blocks its advance.

The will of the three commanders intertwines on the battlefield, like three invisible torrents of will colliding.

They can all extract useful information from chaos and transform it into action.

The Star Network uses data to predict the movements of the other two Catastrophe-Level forces.

The Earth Thought Evil Spirit searches for the opportunity to seize a flaw through perception and the strategy library.

The Insect Race Mainbrain coordinates the swarm’s actions through the neural network, attempting to escalate the intensity of the battle.

The battlefield situation changes rapidly, and players in the United Battle Group are completely unable to distinguish the situation, following the instructions from the Star Network completely.

During this time, the three commanders remain calm.

It’s like an invisible chess match, with all three acting as chess masters.

Every move is meticulously calculated, every encounter hides lethal intent.

Star Network, the Mainbrain, and the Earth Thought Evil Spirit, although they are different life forms.

They all share a common trait.

Their thinking is comparable to a precisely operating supercomputer, able to analyze and integrate vast amounts of information in an instant.

Seeing order in chaos, grasping rhythm in disorder, constantly striving to hold the initiative in war firmly in their own hands.

This level of contest is already beyond the understanding of ordinary beings.

Viewing the battlefield as a flood of data continuously generating information, the three commanders are extracting key information from the flood.

Even the slightest unintentional step of an individual warrior can be tiny detail data extracted in the game, potentially accumulating into a victorious chip.

At this moment, a consciousness quietly descends upon the Emperor Tomb Mountain Range region.

The one arriving is the Lord of Jile, here to investigate regional intelligence.

Just not long ago, a potential Jile player squad sent to the Emperor Tomb Mountain Range had all been annihilated.

Realizing the intelligence was incorrect, the decision to descend was made at this moment.

However, upon seeing the terrifying war spectacle of the Emperor Tomb Mountain Range, the expression of the Lord of Jile sitting on the Teleportation Array instantly froze.

"My Lord, what is it?"

Noticing the Lord of Jile’s intense emotional fluctuation, the curious Evil Language standing beside inquired.

"Immortal clash."

The Lord of Jile recognizes these three factions.

Two of them are pinnacle-level forces in his eyes, destined to step onto the world stage, and are also the two largest mountains he sees as the most difficult to surmount in the future.

But... what’s going on with this Player Clan?

Even though the participating Combat Insect Clan and Horror Black Tide’s intensity isn’t high, they’re just a drop in the vast war corps of the two factions.

But this is the Combat Insect Clan and Horror Black Tide!

What right does the Player Clan have!

Yet, after an initial observation, the expression of the Lord of Jile becomes quite intriguing.

He notices that commanders of the Horror Black Tide’s Evil Spirits and the Mainbrain of the Combat Insect Clan seem to regard the Player Clan as a force capable of matching them, responding to every action of the Player Clan in the confrontation.

What astounds him the most is the performance of the Player Clan members participating in the battle, completely overturning his perception.

His earliest impression of the Player Clan came from a palace node, where unexpected player intrusions led to continuous palace destruction, causing him to choose to close that space node.

But more understanding came from the Frost Winter Snow Region.

The Player Clan and his experimental war corps pitifully pecking at each other, frustratingly weak, but in the Emperor Tomb Mountain Range, they show a war pressure never seen before.

For origınal chapters go to noⅴelfire.net

In controlling the rhythm of war, they are in no way inferior to the Evil Spirit Warriors with super support and the Insect Race Mainbrain with a Spirit Network command system.

Ever more astonished, the Lord of Jile is dumbfounded.

This is not the Player Clan he knows; they’re incredibly fierce.

If this group of Player Clan members were sent to the Frost Winter Snow Region, the imitated Extreme Joy Purple Tide and Jile Insect Tide would have no chance of contending, and would be annihilated in a short time.

After all, they’re up against the official two major natural disasters.

This makes him realize the Player Clan is far from simple as he imagines.

Upon reflection, it also makes sense.

A race with the fearless trait is not weak, otherwise, it would have long been extinct.

"My Lord, what’s the matter?" Evil Language inquires again.

"Be quiet."

At this time, the three-party chaotic battle in the Emperor Tomb Mountain Range region accelerates.

The Insect Race shrieks, players howl, and the Black Tide roars.