As the nobles scattered in panic, some of the little chicks stumbled after their masters, but most lingered in place. Their delicate, pretty little faces stiffened like porcelain dolls, their large, watery eyes filled with terror.
However, the source of their fear was not Ashley, but rather the fact that they hadn’t followed their masters in fleeing.
They knew that this ambiguous attitude, once investigated, would result in punishments no lighter than being beaten to death. They had seen what happened to those whose chick costumes’ feathers were plucked out one by one—wretched screams, bodies convulsing in rigid spasms, eyes slowly losing their luster, until they finally died in agony.
Perhaps the longing for freedom overpowered their fear, or maybe it was a fluke of wishful thinking, but they chose to stay and watch.
At first, too timid to approach, but soon, their slave-honed skill of reading the room picked up on the Blue-Haired Loli’s ambiguous attitude.
Gathering their courage, one by one, two by two, three by three… more and more little chicks flocked to the Blue-Haired Loli, clustering around her into a large group, huddling close together.
Ashley seemed engulfed in a colorful cloud. The little chicks were soft and fluffy, petite and charming, their round black eyes shimmering with sorrowful light, reminding her of the dyed chicks sold on the streets in her previous life.
“Should we save them?” Chloe stood on tiptoe, trying to stand out among the chickens.
At her words, all the little chicks perked up their ears, eyes wide, waiting anxiously for the Blue-Haired Loli’s answer.
Ashley fell silent for a moment, brushed the hair at the nape of her neck, looked away, and snorted:
“What a hassle, but… we’ve already saved five hundred thousand people. A few more won’t hurt.”
“Oh—! Big sis is so kind!”
The little chicks let out small cheers, high-fiving each other in celebration.
Ashley pulled out a cylindrical key, thrust it forward into space, twisted it to open the entrance to the Slanted House.
The Slanted House couldn’t hold so many little chicks, but as a carry-on suitcase, it could store some items inside.
Ashley took out gas masks one by one and distributed them. Chloe’s nimble fingers helped the little chicks put them on.
Then, she taught them two simple commands.
“When I say ‘coo coo coo,’ you huddle close to me. When I say ‘whoop whoop whoop,’ you scatter and run, find cover to hide.”
With that, Ashley clapped her hands—first “whoop whoop whoop,” then “coo coo coo.” The flock scattered with a rustle and then gathered from all directions, extremely obedient.
She quickly noticed that a few little chicks moved awkwardly. Though they tried hard to run, they stumbled and even splatted to the ground.
Going over to check, she found that due to the Crow Clan’s bird worship, they had been amputated at the knees and fitted with metal bird legs, making them look more bird-like, but they could only hop forward.
However, a blessing in disguise—the crippled ones could rest inside the Slanted House.
At that moment, the green little chick hiding in the bushes ran out, melting into the flock like snowflakes into a river.
Ashley thought for a moment. Since that was the case, she might as well save those guys too. The fusion beasts could handle it anyway.
She took out several bottles of paint, mixed them evenly on a palette, created a Crow Person body, and had it carry a bunch of gas masks to the stables…
With the great battle approaching, Ashley sorted her preparations. Two uses of the palette and one Four-Dimensional Slaughter had been consumed, but she had gained the new “Death Bird” ability.
Yedulahnada’s “ejector seat” was not the full extent of the Death Bird ability, but merely its escape method, typically used when near death.
Decoded by the Time Bird, it was a rare sustained enhancement-type ability, akin to cultivation. By absorbing extraordinary substances, it remodeled flesh, bones, and feathers, ultimately transforming into a non-human Death Bird form.
This ability fit so perfectly with Crow Clan technology that Ashley suspected it wasn’t a natural ability obtained through a Singularity, but an artificial one with a fixed acquisition channel.
Meanwhile…
In a remote little chapel, candlelight flickered, and eerie mist swirled. At the center of a pattern formed by triangles, roots, concentric circles, and clustered feathers sat an ancestral totem crafted from humanoid crow skulls and translucent jade-like bones.
Several Crow People knelt around the totem in worship, thin strands of black power drawn from the crystalline bones of the ancestors and merging into their bodies.
Suddenly, the door burst open from outside, cold wind carrying the stench of blood surging in!
A badly wounded Crow Person stumbled inside, shouting:
“Not good! There are intruders!”
The worshippers hurriedly went forward to ask what happened. Suddenly, the fusion beast yanked the detonator cord at its waist!
Boom!
A massive explosion roared into the sky!
The chapel’s four walls collapsed outward, crushing the surrounding rose beds. The Gothic spire snapped in half and crashed down. Smoke and dust sprayed outward under intense wind pressure…
In just half a minute, seven or eight explosions rang out!
At the foot of the mountain, a girl with snow-cyan hair flicked her fingertip, sending a leaf drifting on the wind.
The smoke generators positioned upwind activated simultaneously with a hiss, releasing bilious green mist that crept up the slope, writhing and surging like ghosts.
“Southeast wind, level 6. Factoring in the climb speed, two minutes should do it.”
Xixi monitored the battlefield via the Starlink Firmament and saw the Crow People fleeing the poison, heading toward the family hall—the church-like building with twelve beast statues at the entrance.
In truth, the toxin had little effect on the extraordinary. Their superhuman flesh and organs had extreme tolerance; even continuous anesthetic inhalation would at most cause some burning in the lungs.
The green mist dyed biochemical-weapon green and the fusion beasts’ suicide attacks weren’t meant to kill, but to brand fear into the Crow People’s hearts.
Once fear took hold, people sought safety.
For the Crow People, the family hall was the safest place, a warm haven.
Seeing the bilious green mist chasing their souls and hearing the massive explosions, similar thoughts surfaced in their minds.
As long as they reached that place, they’d be safe…
Fighting in the suspicious mist was too dangerous. For now, gather at the family hall…
My wounds are bleeding. Someone save me—right, the family hall. If I can hold out until there, I’ll be saved…
…
The family hall’s stained-glass windows faintly glowed with warm light, exuding a strong sense of security.
Layered arches rising upward, stacked feather-patterned transoms, sharply protruding load-bearing columns… all combined to create an infinite upward momentum, as if stepping through that door would elevate one’s soul to the hall of ancestral spirits.
Patriarch Lesoto stood at the entrance, staff in hand, draped in the Ancestor Cassock. Amid the thick, curling black long fur, the crow skulls of generations of patriarchs were embedded.
Some skulls were crystalline and translucent, like black crystal carvings.
Some were covered in scaly ridges, edges sharp enough to draw blood on touch.
Some were pitted with holes, pierced by golden thumbtacks.
Some had a frosted texture, suffused with mysterious allure.
Some resembled conch shells, harboring eldritch secrets…
Eleven in total.
Each generation of ancestors had lived through long ages. The Death Bird ability accumulated vast seas of experience and wisdom over lifetimes; the knowledge etched into each skull exceeded that of Fountain City’s grand library, and the extraordinary power contained within was abyssal and prison-like.
Though facing a large-scale assault, Lesoto showed no panic.
Shadows flickered continuously before him, kneeling on one knee to report—slender, lithe magpies, the scout unit “Forktail,” keeping him abreast of the battlefield.
“Ashley appeared in the manor? Impossible! How did she leave Source?” Lesoto said in shock.
“It was definitely her. Young Master Yedu clashed with her and lost in one exchange. His body was shattered by the Oracle Blade—he nearly died!”
“And Yedu?”
“He’s back in the Ancestral Blood Pool repairing his body.”
“Are the others all here?”
“Aside from the Tombstone squad scattered outside and some servant rabble, yes.”
“Then I’m at ease. No need to hold back—exterminate the enemy with full force!”
Lesoto closed his eyes first, then snapped them open in fury. He roared, his entire face stretching radially like pulled taffy, wrinkles blending in, looking savage and vicious.
The profound black feathers on his body unfurled into the air, as if connecting to the night sky behind him. Black light erupted, spreading outward in rippling circles with terrifying tremors!
The Crow People’s faces grew grave. The patriarch was enraged—this would be a fight to the death!
Suddenly, a low-altitude rumble echoed from overhead. The stained glass in the facade arches vibrated and trembled.
Lesoto looked up, his pupils contracting to pinpoints. In that instant, he felt a surreal unreality—a massive boulder, like a snapped mountain peak, plummeted from the sky!
