Chapter Ninety-Four: The Frenzied Swarm

The snow had stopped, but the howling wind chilled people to the bone. With less than a few hours remaining before the twentieth day, Yang Fan was already frantically stocking up on supplies. First, over a thousand fire pearls; next, a vial of blood-restoring potion for each person.

Finally, he purchased five large wooden ballistae, each costing twenty thousand apocalypse coins, totaling a hundred thousand. The apocalypse coins were spent down to the last one. Each ballista had formidable penetration, capable of piercing straight through a bug. Yang Fan bought several sets, fixing them at strategic points, and assigned the best marksmen in the group to operate them.

Time slipped by unnoticed. In the final hour, Yang Fan noticed a few passersby, but there was still no sign of Chen Ming and his group. In the end, Yang Fan gathered everyone out onto the snowy field. As he surveyed the faces before him, some showed tension, others fear, and some harbored hope for the future.

“I’ll say this only once: if we encounter true danger, sometimes staying still is better than running blindly. If things turn really bad and a swarm of bugs appears, you can choose to flee—don’t worry about what others think. In the apocalypse, survival comes first. But running away without courage is shameful. Now, everyone to your positions—set the ambush and wait!”

With that, Yang Fan had them take their positions. Armed with fire pearls, the cold could no longer affect them. By now, the sky was bright—so impossibly bright—and as they gazed into the azure expanse, no one knew if they would get to see another day.

“Stay behind me, and be careful,” Yang Fan warned Wang Cheng and Fu Gaobin. He was particularly concerned about these two. Fu Gaobin gave him a reassuring look, and then everyone hid themselves at a stronghold, lying in wait.

———

The sky was a brilliant blue. Riding on Zach’s wooden horse, Chen Ming said wearily, “Can’t you go any faster? It’s nearly noon—if something terrifying breaks out, we’re all dead.”

Clearly annoyed, Chen Ming voiced his complaint. Zach snapped back, “With the pittance you’re paying me, my mount doesn’t even get enough to eat. How do you expect it to run faster? Unless you pay me more.”

The wooden horse stood nearly three meters tall, large enough to carry four or five people. Bai Chen, Fang Na, Chen Ming, and Zhu Liang sat atop it, while Zach ran along below, sprinting as fast as a motorcycle.

Even at this speed, they were still some distance from the southern military base—the coordinates Yang Fan had given them. Zach, that miser, treated his wooden horse like a treasure. He could easily go two or three times faster but refused to let the horse expend the extra energy.

At first, he didn’t even want anyone to ride. Who knows what Zach was thinking—wasn’t a mount meant to be ridden and conquered? He was being absurdly stingy.

As the group wandered aimlessly, Chen Ming suddenly pointed behind them in alarm, “Look—what’s that?”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the distance. All five faces—including Bai Chen’s—turned pale. A wave of brilliant red surged toward them, roughly four or five hundred meters out. Thanks to the system’s enhancements, their eyesight was now exceptional.

They soon saw what it was.

Massive golden carapaces gleamed in the sunlight, jointed like armor. Their limbs were bladed, serrated edges glinting coldly. Their faces were hideous, monstrous like something out of a nightmare, mouths drooling viscous saliva as they charged at incredible speed.

They were flaming red from head to toe—there must have been hundreds, perhaps even a thousand. Most were the size of an adult human, but a few outliers were two or three times larger.

These creatures…

“Damn, so many Flame Beetles. I could handle them alone, but as for you—run!” Without another word, Zach leaped onto his wooden horse and spurred it into a wild gallop.

“Bai Chen, check the attributes of the Flame Beetles and share them with us,” Zhu Liang said, regaining his wits first. Bai Chen, with his Insight talent, could appraise anything.

[Flame Beetle]
Race: Insectoid
Tier: Level 1, Max
Health: 500/500
Attack Damage: 75–145
Defense: 35
Strength: 10–20 times that of an ordinary human
Innate Skill: Flame Blade—limbs become imbued with fire, reaching three hundred degrees Celsius, capable of melting iron.
Description: The most common fire-element beetle, extremely troublesome. If you encounter one and do not possess at least a Tier 2 ability, flee at once.

———

The group’s faces fell as the information was shared. Ten to twenty times the strength of a normal human—by comparison, even the more violent mutant rats only had three to ten times the strength. Was there any hope left for humanity?

———

But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Zach sped them away, the wooden horse letting out a loud neigh. Its speed, once slower than the Flame Beetles, suddenly surged to two or three times faster, carrying them to safety.

“You humans are in real danger,” Zach muttered, his expression changing as he watched the swarm behind them. Truth be told, he could survive even among thousands of Flame Beetles. But what would be the point? As a Summoner Knight, his duty was to protect his summoner friends.

Thanks to Zach’s quick escape, for now, they were safe.

———

Elsewhere, down a dimly lit street, a group of thugs laughed maniacally as they devoured a freshly killed mutant rat raw, indifferent to the world’s judgment. There were dozens in the gang.

Suddenly, a black fissure opened in the bright earth, bottomless and unfathomable.

One after another, enormous Flame Beetles burst from the rift. The madmen, still in the midst of their brutality, stared in terror, powerless to stop what was coming.

A screech split the air.

A Flame Beetle surged forward, lightning-fast, appearing before a man in an instant. Its serrated claw, sharp as a blade, tore into his back, shredding flesh and spilling blood before he could even scream.

The beetle’s mouth, as large as a soup bowl, clamped down.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the city.

All across the world, fissures appeared. Early estimates numbered ten billion insectoids descending. They hunted not just humans, but mutated beasts as well—devouring everything.

The insectoid horde had gone mad.