Second-Phase Death Plague Experiment

Standing inside the cage, Harry watched the island approaching in the distance.

He knew that would be where he would live for quite some time to come.

Turning to look at the other imprisoned Yar soldiers beside him, Harry felt an indescribable sense of humiliation.

Some were gravely wounded and on the verge of death. Some had been drugged into weakness. Others lay half-dead, lost in their thoughts. Every one of them looked like a dejected beaten dog, as though someone had broken their spine.

Gritting his teeth, he still could not accept how they had gone from high-spirited warriors to this miserable state.

But he also understood that saying certain things in front of the nearby Duchy of Maldon soldiers would only turn them into a joke, so he could only silently keep score in his heart.

He secretly swore that one day, he would repay them a hundredfold!

Once the fleet approached a certain range of the island, the ships all came to a halt under the flag signals of the lead vessel.

Long wooden planks were extended from the sides of the ships.

After throwing each prisoner a large piece of driftwood to keep them from drowning, the Duchy of Maldon soldiers mercilessly shoved them onto the planks along the hulls and forced them, one by one at weapon-point, to jump into the sea.

This was to prevent them from gathering together and seizing the ships, leaving them no chance to escape.

The current direction and distance had been calculated by experienced sailors to be optimal.

Even those who could not swim would be able to reach Mobius Island without much difficulty as long as they clung tightly to the driftwood and let the waves carry them along. Thus, the soldiers were not worried that the prisoners would fail to reach shore and cause them to fail their mission.

And as the enemy army's supreme commander, Harry became the first pioneer to jump into the water due to someone's unnamed backroom arrangements.

Under countless watchful eyes, he stood on the plank beside the lead vessel and felt everyone's gaze upon him. He truly wanted to curse, but his good upbringing and the weapons pointed at him forced him to swallow his words.

He merely greeted their ancestors in his heart.

A man had to bow his head under another's roof.

He might never have heard that saying before, but when people found themselves in difficult circumstances, they often understood its true meaning on their own!

Standing on the plank, Harry looked down at the sea below and vaguely thought he saw a broad fish fin.

After several days of brutal reality, Harry, who had been born into high society, decided to temporarily set aside his hatred and survive the immediate crisis first.

Thus, with a solemn expression, he asked the Duchy of Maldon soldiers forcing him to jump, "You have confirmed that there are no sawtooth sharks, sea Magic Beasts, or anything like that below, right?"

Seeing the soldiers exchange looks after hearing his question, clearly unsure of the answer themselves, he continued solemnly, "Do not misunderstand. I am not worried about my own safety. I am worried about the wounded. If there really are things like that down there, they will never make it to the island. Then your mission will have failed!"

After hearing this, one young soldier hesitated for a moment and felt that Harry's words made some sense. He hurried into the ship's meeting room.

Presumably, he had gone to report it.

Though Harry's face remained calm, he was quietly delighted inside.

Trash, you think that little intelligence of yours is enough to fight me?

Not long afterward, the soldier ran back out and shouted to the others, "The general said that during this season, there are not many Magic Beasts or carnivorous fish in this area. Even if they have eaten their fill, they cannot eat that many people. Just throw these prisoners in. If they die, then they deserved it."

After hearing that, the soldiers immediately used long poles to shove the stunned Harry down.

Because of the sedative, Harry could only watch helplessly as they acted. He could not even try to dodge, his body moving as slowly as an old woman with rheumatism.

As the sea surface rushed toward him, he glared furiously at the soldiers above and opened his mouth. You bastards, remember this...

Before he could say the words, seawater flooded his mouth.

Royal Capital.

Orsaga sat in a chair, leisurely crossing his legs.

A pale blue halo floated before him. Within it was the scene of Harry being pushed by the waves onto the beach of Mobius Island.

This was the Far Sight Mirror spell. It could project the image of a certain region, and its range depended on the user's strength. It was considered a rather useful scouting spell.

"The first phase of the Death Plague experiment has ended. Next comes the second phase. Since plague can alter a creature's life state on a cellular level, can it also adjust its bodily structure and genetic state? In my previous life's memories, there seemed to be something called zombies that was rather interesting..."

Although Orsaga had not studied much technological knowledge, and understood even less about cells, magic possessed quite a bit of similar knowledge.

Through the power of the Source of Death Plague, the formless plague acted as his medium, granting him a unique perspective on many microscopic things. He could observe the infected more clearly and use the plague to influence them to a certain extent.

What should have been something rigorous and complex to others presented itself differently in his eyes due to his different perspective. It made him feel as though he could simply reach out and touch or alter it at will. It was quite wondrous.

He knew clearly that his use of his various abilities remained extremely superficial. The Source of Death Plague was far more than merely releasing plagues. It should have much broader applications. The same was true of abilities such as the magic power traits—Corrosion and Pain—and elemental talents like Bloodflame. When the Evolution System evolved them, it had not directly given him complete forms. Rather, it had added several branches to his original foundation, giving him more choices. How far he could cultivate them still depended on himself.

He was now trying to find his own path. After all, even the same road could be traveled in many ways. Only what suited him best was truly the best.

In his eyes, the moment Harry touched the island's soil, he himself became the original carrier of the plague.

That was the reward Orsaga had given to the first person to land on the island. The plague would spread outward from Harry as its center, and Harry would gain a certain degree of resistance, making him equivalent to a mobile poison gas tank.

One whose cap had not been screwed on tightly.

Under Orsaga's observation, the seed of plague had already taken root and sprouted within Harry. Though slow, it was unstoppable. Once it fully matured, every breath Harry exhaled would become poisonous gas, every drop of blood he shed would become a plague carrier, and even Harry himself would become a breeding ground for plague.

Since Orsaga had descended upon this world, the number of living beings who had died directly or indirectly at his hands had become impossible to count. The world's suppressive force upon him had also increased daily. Even the air seemed to solidify around him. Every step and every gesture felt as though he were moving through mud, hindered by an indescribable resistance.

And after he had casually helped Jem Woz defeat the Duchy of Yar army, that suppressive force reacted as well. Although Jem Woz had made the decision, the debt was still counted against Orsaga, because he was the owner of that power.

He could feel that the world's tolerance for him was gradually nearing its limit. If he went any further, it might trigger other reactions—such as people everywhere coming to cause him trouble, lightning striking from the heavens, meteors falling from the sky...

The world's tolerance for demons, these foreign intruders, had always been low. Restless ones like Orsaga were even more of a priority target!

It could be said that if the Talent Abilities Armament Rune—Crimson and Disguise—Silence had not played their parts, quite a few heroes would already have come looking for him under the influence of the world's will. There was no way Orsaga could be hiding so steadily as he was now.

These worms burrowing deep into the world's interior received the same treatment in every world: the moment they appeared, they were besieged from all sides.

Just like the demons that had appeared in this world before, every one of them would first receive a vicious beating before entering. Most of their strength would be suppressed, and then heroes from all corners would emerge to pick fights.

Either they hacked their way through, slaughtered every loser, and successfully conquered the world; or they died gloriously, though not particularly peacefully; or they went back where they came from. In any case, they had little time to develop their forces and restore their strength.

Compared to them, Orsaga had more choices and chose to develop quietly. Moreover, he did not crave human souls as much as other demons did. To him, they would all be fed to the Evolution System and converted into nourishment anyway.

Whether they tasted unique or were delicious did not matter.

Unlike other demons, he did not need to pick between pure souls, sinful souls, and the like. In his mind, they all belonged to the same category. The only difference was how many Evolution Points they yielded after conversion; there was no fundamental difference.

If possible, he would rather harvest souls on a massive scale in the Bottomless Abyss. After all, talent was everywhere there, and everyone lived by the rule of kill or be killed.

But compared to crossing into Outer Planes to cause trouble, that was far more difficult. Without strength at the Demon Lord level, being too conspicuous could easily get one crushed to death by others.

Furthermore, according to his Inheritance Memory, invading Outer Planes was also connected to earning the favor of the Bottomless Abyss's will. Only by destroying enough worlds could one qualify to enter the hall of power of an Abyss Lord. Only by proving one's value to the Bottomless Abyss would more resources be directed toward them.

Every lord of the Bottomless Abyss had to meet one basic standard of power: Plane Destroyer!

With a single glance, they could corrupt the minds and souls of the weak. With bare hands, they could pluck stars and grasp moons. Overturning continents and evaporating seas was mere play to them. They could confront advanced Interstellar Civilizations that commanded fleets among the stars, and drag an entire plane inhabited by hundreds of millions of living beings down into the Bottomless Abyss.

For a demon to advance from an Infant Demon to a Demon Lord, the resources and opportunities required were simply unimaginable. The only chance was through endless slaughter and destruction across planes, earning the favor of the Bottomless Abyss's will. Only then could the near-zero odds be raised to one in trillions upon trillions, one in quadrillions.

For Orsaga, who possessed the Evolution System, there were other paths he could take. But the path before him was undoubtedly a shortcut proven to be viable, so he had no reason to abandon invading Outer Planes.

On the contrary, with his more diverse methods, he possessed advantages on this path that other Abyss Creatures could not compare with, allowing him to go farther...

Thanks: 200 book coins from Lonely Demon Moon!