Samsara Paradise: Dream Weaver of Connections.

Meanwhile, in the Frog Tribe, Alec, who had narrowly escaped death, was injecting himself with a healing potion in the Great Elder's room.

The room was filled with a pungent odor of herbs mixed with some kind of putrid substance, and an unknown biological tissue was slowly bubbling in a stone container in the corner.

The walls are adorned with dried poisonous insects and twisted plant specimens, a unique "decoration" found in the Elder's room.

Alec looked around; this place was more like a laboratory than a place for healing.

He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the agitation and a barely perceptible fear in his heart.

Ever since Alec led his troops to attack the Symbiotic Alliance, the assassin squad led by White Dove has been chasing Alec like mad dogs.

In the end, apart from Alec himself, only two priests skilled in spatial magic remained in the Death Paradise.

Alec was able to escape the pursuit of the white doves only because the other two space-type priests used their magic to teleport him back. Otherwise, Alec would have been completely delusional to try to escape the white doves' pursuit on his own.

Fortunately, the energy storm generated during the passage through the spatial turbulence unexpectedly erased the tracking mark imprinted on Alec's body.

Otherwise, given White Dove's abilities, she would have already led the assassins to the gates of the Frog Tribe by now.

The two priests risked their lives to save Alec because they had no other choice.

After the battle for the world entered its more brutal second phase, the punishments assigned to them by Death Paradise became the same as those in Reincarnation Paradise: forced execution.

In order to survive, they must do everything in their power to save Alec.

Because Alec is now their only chance to turn the tide; the queen insect they had previously cultivated was wiped out by the people of the Reincarnation Paradise before they could even mass produce troops.

If it weren't for Alec gaining the protection of the Frog Tribe with his modified body, they probably wouldn't even have a chance to find a decent piece of land right now.

"Damn it, so many soldiers died this time. This is going to be hard to explain." Alec cursed under his breath, skillfully disassembling his twisted and deformed left arm and beginning emergency repairs.

As a cyborg, most of his organs and tissues, except for his head and heart, have long been replaced by machinery or stronger biological materials.

With a soft "click," Alec tightened and secured the loosened left arm joint.

The artificial nerve bundle was reconnected at the interface, and a faint, tingling sensation, like a current running through it, was felt.

Such repairs are only temporary; the damaged precision components and disrupted energy circuits are far beyond what can be fixed by hand.

To fully restore the function of his left arm, he must return to the park and seek the help of the professional mechanics.

At this moment, all he was doing was barely managing to restore these battered instruments to a minimum level of mobility.

Of course, Alec's second brother, as a symbol of masculinity, was preserved in its original form.

To match his perpetual motion machine-like demands, his two original kidneys had long been replaced with high-performance artificial kidneys.

These twins are said to be spoils of war taken from a male succubus in a derivative world by hunters from the Death Paradise, and their regenerative abilities are terrifying.

Even after the fiercest battle, they can "regroup" and rejoin the "battle" in just half a minute.

This is precisely the key to Alec's success in the fiercely independent Amur frog tribe.

The witches of the Awa tribe have long been exposed to and concocted various highly toxic potions, causing their hormone levels to become extremely disordered.

One of the side effects of this disorder is an insatiable, almost pathological craving.

When Alec, a being who could be described as a "fully automatic perpetual pile driver," suddenly appeared in the tribe, the tormented witches were overjoyed.

They naturally rushed to "have a good time" and regarded Alex as the best medicine to solve their physical discomfort.

However, Alec's expedition not only failed to achieve its intended goals, but also resulted in the loss of two thousand warriors of the tribe.

This is not merely a failure, but a grave crime that shakes the very foundation of the tribe.

The elders may be fascinated by some of the "special services" he provides, but when it comes to the fundamental interests of the tribe's survival, they are absolutely ruthless.

After all, the Frog Tribe was in a special position within the Totem Tribe Alliance. With a total population of less than 300,000, it was at a disadvantage in an alliance that prided itself on military expansion.

Even more fatally, the highly toxic environment on which the tribe depended for survival caused irreversible damage to male fertility, making the tribe's new bloodline extremely thin.

To maintain the tribe's survival, they were extremely dependent on plundering or trading males from outside.

Therefore, every adult male, especially a strong warrior capable of fighting, is a rare and precious resource for the tribe.

Alec was able to establish himself here because these witches had their eyes on his kidneys and planned to use him as their stud.

The highly toxic environment made it extremely difficult for men to reproduce. Over time, the power structure gradually shifted towards women, eventually leading to a situation where witch elders held power.

The vast majority of men in the Awa tribe today were acquired through trade from other tribes or by force from small tribes and wilderness refugees, and then forcibly assimilated.

"You two need to think of something now! I can't be the only one running the Paradise of Reincarnation! Damn it, I'm barely able to take care of myself!" Alec glanced at the two priests in the room with a slight headache, his voice filled with barely suppressed irritation.

These two priests were the epitome of taciturnity; unless the problem was directly confronted, they could keep brooding inside their tattered robes.

A surge of evil fire rushed to the top of Alec's head. He stepped forward and grabbed the collar of the priest closest to him.

"Speak!!" Alec roared. "I know you can hear me! Give me a way to break this deadlock. Do you really want me to be dragged onto a stone bed and drained dry by those venomous witches, or wait to see the countdown to the destruction of Paradise reach zero?"

Without a word, a chilling mental force, like an invisible tentacle, instantly wrapped around Alec's arm.

The force wasn't strong, but it carried a strange sense of "stripping," forcibly severing his prosthetic body from his neural connection.

Alec groaned, a sharp, phantom pain shooting through his arm as if an interface had been forcibly ripped out, and his fingers instinctively loosened their grip.

The priest who had been grabbed staggered, fell silently back to the ground, and regained his footing.

He remained silent, only slightly adjusting his disheveled collar.

"Huff...huff..." Alec gasped for breath, looking at his mechanical arm that had temporarily lost sensation, both shocked and furious.

He realized that although these two taciturn men were usually very quiet, they could be incredibly unpredictable and cunning when pushed to the limit.

The fact that these people were able to escape from White Dove's clutches was not solely due to luck.

"Okay...okay...I won't do it." Alec forced himself to calm down, took a step back, leaned against the cold stone table, and tried to suppress his rage with reason.

"But you have to give me an explanation. That old poisoner Visaka won't give us much time. We're all in this together now. What exactly are you planning?"

"It's difficult. In this battle for the world, we have no hope of turning the tide." The space priest, who had been thrown to the ground by Alec, straightened his robes and stood up. His voice was extremely cold, sounding like a snake.

"I don't need your reminders! Now I only ask one question: is there even the slightest hope of turning things around?!" Alec's voice wasn't as loud as before, and he sounded a bit dejected.

Just as the two space priests were about to speak, they seemed to sense something and, as if erased by an invisible eraser, their figures vanished into thin air at the same time.

The next second, the door creaked open as it was pushed open.

A chilling wind, carrying a strong, fishy stench, swept into the room. The light at the doorway was blocked by a tall figure, clad in a deep purple wizard's robe, gaunt yet exuding a suffocating aura of oppression.

Her face was covered with thick white paint, outlining strange patterns, and her eyes shone under the paint, with pupils as long and narrow as snakes.

The visitor was none other than Visaka, the "Poison Scale" Elder, one of the leaders of the Frog Tribe, responsible for military affairs and punishment.

Alec's heart sank. He stood up from the chair, but the movement aggravated his wound, causing him to groan softly.

“Elder Visakha…” Alec tried to make his voice sound steady, even with a hint of ingratiation.

Visaka did not respond to his greeting. She stepped into the room, the hem of her robe trailing across the stone floor with a sound like scales rubbing together.

Her gaze swept over Alec's newly reattached left arm, then fell on his modified body, stained with blood and scorch marks, and finally settled on his face, her scrutinizing gaze as if assessing a tool about to be scrapped.

"Alec, what about the two thousand warriors who followed you into battle? What about the warriors who carried the glory of the tribe?" Alec's pretext for seizing military power was not some world war—but a carefully crafted revenge story.

He claimed to come from a small tribe that had been wiped out by the three-stage Zerg. This tragic identity, combined with the fake totems provided by Death Park, enabled him to successfully lead two thousand elite warriors away.

Alec felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His mind raced, searching for the most compelling explanation: "Elder, please let me explain."

"I only care about the results!" Visaka interrupted him, her voice suddenly rising, as if the liquid in the container in the corner of the room was boiling. "The result is that only you, Alec, escaped like a broken-backed dog! Two thousand Aborigine warriors, the tribe's precious fangs, are buried far from home! Tell me, what did you bring back? Enemy heads? Captive resources? Or... just your own barely surviving life?!"

"The losses of the tribe must be repaid with blood. Every drop of a warrior's blood must be made up with the blood of the enemy, or... the life of the derelict."

Alec's heart pounded; he knew Visaka wasn't joking.

The witches who were obsessed with his "special services" might have a soft spot, but the "Poison Scale" in front of them, who was in charge of punishment, only had the interests of the tribe in his eyes.

"According to tribal law, those who suffer heavy losses and shake the foundations... shall be punished with the 'heart-devouring poison' torture, their flesh and blood turning into pus to nourish the poisonous pool of our tribe!"

"Elder! Wait! I...I still have value! I'm still useful to the tribe!"

Visaka paused slightly, his serpentine eyes coldly scrutinizing him, awaiting the value he would utter.

Alec's heart pounded. He knew where the only way out lay, but he really wouldn't have used this method unless he was forced into a corner.

He took a deep breath, straightened his chest, and pointed to his lower body: "This! Elder! My... special ability, the tribe needs to reproduce, needs more strong warriors. Although we lost two thousand soldiers, given time, I can breed more for the tribe! Far more than two thousand! I can make up for it! I... I can become the tribe's 'seed,' the strongest seed. For the continuation of the tribe, please give me another chance."

Alec was practically going all out, disregarding his pride, and pulled out all his trump cards.

At that moment, he felt as if all his pretense had been stripped away, leaving him standing naked on the judgment seat.

A deathly silence fell over the room. Visaka's gaze swept over Alec's body inch by inch like a scalpel, his eyes seemingly able to penetrate flesh and reach the depths of his soul.

Time ticked by, and for Alec, each second felt like walking on a red-hot iron plate.

"Your life is temporarily housed in your filthy body. But remember, this is not forgiveness. From this moment on, you are no longer a distinguished guest, nor are you worthy to be called a warrior commander."

"You are the tribe's 'breeding stock.' Your only mission is to use your broken body to breed a strong enough next generation for the Frog Tribe. Use your last bit of value to repay the debts you owe. If you slack off in the slightest... the Poison Pool will always be ready for you."

After saying that, Visaka didn't look at him again, as if he had become a mindless tool.

She turned around, her long robe brushing against the cold ground, and the heavy stone door slowly closed behind her, completely cutting off the last ray of light.

Alec stood there, his back soaked with cold sweat.

He struggled to lift his head, looking into the shadows in the corner of the room, his voice hoarse and filled with malice: "...Have you seen enough? You two bastards! Visaka is gone! Now! Right now! Get out here! If you keep playing dead, I'll risk my life to sell you two cowards to those poisonous widows before I wipe you out!"

The air distorted, like ripples spreading across water after a pebble has been thrown in.

Two priests, dressed in tattered gray robes, silently reappeared in the center of the room.

"A plan! I need a plan that will save our lives! Visaka needs to confess, and Paradise needs us to turn the tables! You guys were playing dead for a while, now it's time for you to say something!"

The two priests remained silent for a moment, seemingly communicating silently through their spiritual power.

Finally, a priest with a chilling voice spoke: "Conventional methods... there's absolutely no chance of turning the tide. The madmen of the Paradise of Reincarnation... are too powerful. The only way we can think of is to sacrifice a sacrifice to summon an ancient god to turn the tide."

"Ancient God? Are you fucking crazy?! Can you just summon something like that?! Once He descends and goes out of control, forget about turning the tide, the entire Ayu Frog tribe, no, this entire continent could be turned upside down by Him!" Upon hearing the priest's plan, Alec jumped up from the ladder.

As a fifth-tier contractor, Alec had more or less come into contact with the ancient gods.

However, unlike direct contact with Lin Yi or Su Xiao, most of the people Alec encountered were the followers or avatars of the ancient gods, and he never met the original body of the ancient god.

Even so, Alec had witnessed the world ravaged by the power of the ancient gods, where the rules of the world were twisted into a nightmarish form, and living beings were transformed into indescribable monsters.

It can be said that none of the worlds invaded by the ancient gods were normal.

“Regular...certain death. Paradise Annihilation...countdown...never stops. Visaka...treats you like breeding stock...squeezes out your last bit of value...and then throws you into the poison pool.”

"The ancient gods... their descent... is the only variable. Chaos... is the only chance for survival. Only when order collapses in the face of absolute power... can we... have a sliver of space to struggle."

Alec's roar stopped abruptly, as if his throat had been choked.

He stared intently at the two figures shrouded in gray robes, his chest heaving violently, his heavy breathing echoing in the deathly silent stone chamber.

He slumped back onto the cold stone bench, realizing that this might be the only hope for turning the tide.

Judging from the previous situation, the Paradise of Reincarnation also has a queen insect, and it is a fully developed queen insect, at least at the third stage.

The three of them, along with a tribe of Ayu frogs who might tear them apart at any moment to vent their anger... were nothing more than fish on a chopping board when faced with the overwhelming swarm of insects in the Paradise of Reincarnation and the group of utter madmen among them.

Want to turn the tables? Want to survive?
We must introduce a variable! Something powerful enough to overturn the chessboard!

Ancient gods... are such beings.

A walking natural disaster, its arrival will bring unimaginable destruction, but also extreme chaos and complete imbalance.

Fear, humiliation, resistance to death, and a sliver of survival ignited by madness... these emotions churned violently within Alec.

He felt as if he were standing on the edge of an abyss, where either way led to hell.

But at least... at least choosing the path of summoning the ancient gods... was a choice that Alec made with his own will in a desperate situation.

Even if this choice leads to more complete destruction, it is still far more dignified than being squeezed dry like livestock and then discarded at will.

"Fine...you win. I'll...bet this one with you! I'll bet my life on it!"

“Very good.” Upon hearing that Alec had agreed to their request, the two priests smiled beneath their black robes.

They then explained their plan to Alec in detail: they intended to sacrifice all the creatures of the entire Amur frog tribe in exchange for the power of the ancient god's descent.

The power ceiling of the world of Thorn Worm Star is too low, so the ancient god's main body cannot descend directly, and can only project an avatar.

The more living beings sacrificed, and the stronger the power contained within, the stronger the anchor and power that the ancient god's avatar can obtain, and the more terrifying the descending avatar will be. (End of Chapter)