Wei Huan possessed weapons two levels above the "ceiling" of this world—a state of absolute combat dominance. Why would he fear the schemes of the Remnants? Even if he chose to engage them on their terms, so what?
Such was Wei Huan's confidence.
As he circled the fleet, his Level 7 shield continued to slice through the entangling seagrass. He monitored the shield's status closely; the moment it buckled under the pressure of the entanglement, he simply unleashed a focused attack and surged upward, easily evading the damage from the shield's collapse. No matter how many seagrass tentacles the Remnants threw at him, they couldn't slow him down by a single step.
Having dodged the burst, Wei Huan ordered the vehicle back down. With a few casual strikes, he carved a path to the survivors, appearing beside the stranded vehicles in an instant. His Level 7 shield now expanded to protect all four rescued vehicles.
"Are... are we safe?"
Many stared at the white vehicle nearby and its seemingly brighter, sturdier shield, unable to believe they had been rescued so easily. But then the realization hit: what now? How would they leave?
Then, they watched as the white halo on top of the original vehicle spun out. The Remnant seagrass, which they had found incredibly tough and powerful, was once again sliced apart like paper.
The captain from the Great Bear Country shouted, "What are you staring at? If you don't want to die, keep close! Level 8 weapons don't distinguish between friend and foe, and a Level 6 vehicle can't take a single hit. Keep up!"
In the chaos, the crew of the rescued vehicles didn't even notice that their vehicles had been forcibly linked to the Alliance Command Vehicle. By the time they tried to take manual control, their vehicles were already drifting toward the few safe zones designated by the main ship.
As the command vehicle performed its "inhumane" butchery of the Remnants with its high-tech weaponry, the crews following behind felt a strange mix of emotions. They felt like remoras—small fish attached to the bodies of great sharks to travel the ocean. It was a bit humbling, but undeniably thrilling.
Once they had safely cleared the area that had pinned them down, someone finally snapped out of it: "Did we escape? Are we saved? Hahaha! We're not going to die! Thank God!"
The Great Bear captain remarked dryly, "Your God didn't save you."
The man reddened but nodded. "Thank you, Commander Wei, for saving our lives. And thank you all for not abandoning us. I truly thought it was over. I can only speak for myself, but I pledge my eternal loyalty to Commander Wei."
Others quickly followed suit, offering their "eternal loyalty." Wei Huan took these words with a grain of salt. He felt Faisal Muhammad—who had at least set off twenty-five Forbidden Curse scrolls with a bang—was more sincere. After all, Wei Huan had actually bothered to remember Faisal's difficult name.
Loyalty isn't proven with words; it's proven when hard choices arise. Besides, Wei Huan hadn't come to "move" anyone; he did it out of basic human empathy and his responsibility as the Supreme Commander of the Pioneer Corps.
After listening to the lukewarm pledges, Wei Huan turned his sharp gaze back to the virtual screen. "Where is General Meyer and his vehicle? we haven't detected his signal the entire way."
The four rescued captains fell silent, looks of hesitation crossing their faces. When Wei Huan asked again, the captain from the Fence Country finally spoke: "Though we don't know why we suddenly woke up from the illusion, I am certain that Colonel Meyer and his crew were not as lucky as us. He wasn't with us."
Another added, "That's right. By the time we regained our senses, we couldn't contact him."
"Which way did they go?" Wei Huan asked.
Another eerie silence. They clearly didn't want to say. Wei Huan knew why: they were terrified. They had just gotten their lives back and didn't want to lose them again by going deeper.
"Heh," Wei Huan laughed internally. He understood their silence but didn't respect it. Whether or not to save someone was his decision, but their attempt to hide the truth after swearing loyalty just seconds ago made them look pathetic.
The reason they weren't talking wasn't because Meyer had escaped; it was because he had likely sunk even deeper. They didn't want to risk the descent.
Finally, someone found their conscience. A quiet captain from the Three Nations said, "They went down. My angle wasn't great during the spin-out, but I caught a glimpse."
Wei Huan looked at this captain and adjusted his opinion slightly. In his life, Wei Huan disliked the Mulberry Country most, followed by Aosam, with the Three Nations in third. But for the sake of the human race, he suppressed his personal feelings for the bigger picture. In a room full of cowards, this man's honesty was a rarity.
"Understood. Open your vehicle's permissions. I'm sending my AI to gather data."
"Yes... understood." The Three Nations captain fell silent again. The others looked annoyed—they hadn't gained anything and had only invited more trouble.
Soon, the AI butler analyzed the data and obtained new coordinates. They began to descend in the direction Meyer's vehicle had vanished.
It was deep. So deep that to a Level 6 vehicle's lights, the water looked like black ink. Without Wei Huan's Level 8 headlights, they would have been effectively blind. Even so, the darkness beyond the light was terrifying. A wet, squelching sound echoed through the dark. It was bone-chilling to imagine the sheer number of seagrass tentacles—some ten times thicker than a vehicle—lurking and pursuing them just out of sight.
'Must we keep going? What lies at the bottom? General Meyer is dead; does he want us to join him? Run! We have to run!'
"Commander Wei, do you feel it? A great dread is descending," the Great Bear captain said, his face pale. "I am certain this isn't an illusion. The Criminal Sequence's Endless Prison has blocked all mental attacks, but this fear... it isn't an attack. There is something truly horrific ahead. We shouldn't go further."
"Lieutenant General Klitov, answer me: what is the name of our corps?" Wei Huan asked calmly.
The general paused, his voice strained. "The Blue Star Alliance Pioneer Corps."
Wei Huan nodded, his gaze sweeping over those who wanted to retreat. "In less than half a month, the main human force will arrive in this world to build our largest alliance base to date. We are betting our most precious treasures—the World Tree and the Kingdom of Heaven—on this place. This will be the final stronghold for our advance. We cannot leave any unstable factors. Scouting this world and understanding its hidden dangers—specifically what these Remnants truly are—is the core mission of the Pioneer Corps!"
No one spoke. These generals, usually the ones giving lectures, sat like children who had been scolded.
Fear of death is human nature, but sometimes you cannot retreat. One step back could mean the deaths of countless soldiers, civilians, and children back on Blue Star. They were called "Lighthouses" because they were supposed to light the way. If they brought the main force here blindly, it could mean the end of the human race.
Besides, they were following the strongest human. If Wei Huan couldn't handle it, they were doomed anyway. At least they would die with clear consciences.
Klitov steadied himself. "You're right. If we know there is a terror ahead, we must face it. If our sacrifice reveals even a fragment of the enemy's true face, it's worth it."
Wei Huan smiled slightly. "It won't come to sacrifice. Fear levels vary by person. If you trust my intuition, I can tell you: whatever is ahead, I will find the truth and bring you back safely."
"Did you not feel it?" the Fence Country captain asked desperately.
"I did," Wei Huan said. "When I first explored this place, I felt what you feel now. But this time, it's much weaker. Whatever it is, we are growing stronger, while it remains the same."
The Fence Country captain started to suggest waiting, then shut his mouth. He realized there was no time. The army was moving soon. Wei Huan was set on this path, and arguing was useless. Wei Huan was pleased by the silence; the Pioneer Corps didn't need too many voices.
Another period of silent travel followed. The 'Heart of Steel' still hadn't found Meyer's vehicle, but the dread was doubling. Some captains looked like they had been pulled from a lake—drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. These were Sequence 5 warriors; the logistics staff and researchers on the ships were in much worse shape.
Wei Huan realized they were hitting a limit. It wasn't that 'he' couldn't go further, but the others couldn't. "We've done our best," he sighed with regret. "We'll stop here for now. We'll come back once we're better prepared."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Some didn't even hide their smiles. They were finally leaving this hellhole.
Wei Huan ordered the vehicle to turn around in the ink-like water. But before they could even move a hundred meters, a massive seagrass tentacle—so large it looked like a wall—slammed down from above. Even Level 8 weapons couldn't sever it in one hit.
The vehicle was forced to back up. As more gargantuan tentacles erupted from all sides, it became clear: the Remnants weren't letting them leave. They were forcing them down.
Wei Huan knew these massive stalks were likely rare and vital parts of the Remnant's body. Every time they were cut, they sprayed thick, black ink—pure energy, like blood. He could feel the plant's agony in its tremors.
He had ways to break out, but he felt a sense of dissatisfaction with leaving. Under the pressure of the enemy's focused attacks, he allowed the vehicle to "retreat" deeper, following the enemy's intent. With so many trump cards—his scrolls, his 300,000-strong undead army, and his infinite Hellfire bombs—he could afford to take the risk.
The "dread" was just a mental influence, not a direct attack. He could endure it. He knew the others only stayed because they couldn't escape without him. And so, the Remnants gave Wei Huan one final push, "forcing" him exactly where he wanted to go.
What was down there?
As he sank further, the pressure suddenly vanished. It felt like moving through thick jelly and then suddenly bursting into clear water. The vehicle accelerated. Wei Huan watched the seagrass tentacles stop and hover at the boundary.
He turned his gaze forward. The water hadn't become clearer; even Level 8 lights couldn't pierce the haze. It was a murky, distorted gray, like ink swirling in a basin. The sea itself seemed to twist his thoughts, making everything stretch and rotate. It wasn't "dread" anymore; it was something physical—like the smell of a latrine that makes your eyes water even though the smell itself has no shape.
"Be careful," a captain whispered. "Those things forced us here for a reason."
"Are they feeding us to their king?"
Before Wei Huan could answer, Mu Zhong spoke: "The 'Heart of Steel' has located Colonel Meyer."
"Thank God!"
"Ah... really?"
The discovery brought a mix of joy and gloom. Some didn't want to save anyone if it meant risking their own necks. Those who were terrified didn't even bother to hide their annoyance. Wei Huan noted every face.
But others, like the Great Bear and Three Nations captains, were genuinely relieved. Klitov noted, "This space is abnormal. There are too many secrets in this world. I can't imagine what exists here."
"Maybe a pile of fish eggs," Mu Zhong joked.
"Little monsters waiting to be fed so they can hatch?" Klitov replied. "The Remnants are plants—or parasites, as Commander Wei said. Whatever they are, we're almost there. And remember: we haven't seen a single corpse in those destroyed vehicles."
"You think they're here?"
"Where else would they be? Why force us here? Are they plants or parasites? Is Meyer alive? What did he see? Too many questions," Klitov said. "I'm a man who needs answers. Even if it's dangerous, I want to go forward."
Wei Huan's respect for Klitov grew. It was much easier to travel a difficult path with like-minded companions.
Wei Huan opened ten portals and released his army again. The Remnants hadn't followed them into this zone, so he didn't need the Level 8 weapons for now; he needed scouts.
Ghost Crows flew to the outer perimeter. Heroic Evil-Eye Overlords were sent out atop the backs of Facehuggers (or carried by their long legs).
"Dot Mom" was summoned—his ace in the hole. Standing at its normal height of 300 meters, its back could easily accommodate all thirteen vehicles. The flat surface was encased in a bubble, allowing humans without "Sea Pearls" to walk around outside their vehicles. The Mother was covered in Two-Headed Hidden Demon Fiends, ready for war.
The sight of the massive undead army was incredibly reassuring. Even those who were paralyzed by dread fell silent.
"The vehicle isn't destroyed, and there's a signal. That's strange," someone noted.
"We keep sending signals, but there's no reply. Is it being controlled by the AI?"
"If it were the AI, it should have responded."
"Remember our experience," Klitov said. "We thought we were sailing normally, but our perception of time was warped. We thought an hour had passed, but it had been a day."
As they discussed this, Klitov turned to the rescued group. "I have one question: why did you set out in the first place? You avoided us and acted alone without sending a single message. Why?"
The group's expressions shifted from fear to profound embarrassment.