Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 477 "The Giant Centipede"

Approval flashed in Caroline's eyes again, then she pointed to the mutants still fighting in the distance:
"So, in this situation..."

Her hint was already obvious.

The entire arena is a giant energy collector.

Those frenzied spores are not just meant to create chaos, but also to incite extreme emotions in the participants.

The processes of death and resurrection are, in effect, the collection of the purest essence of life.

"So the whole carnival is a trap."

Ron's voice turned cold: "Used to gather energy for that ritual."

Caroline nodded weakly.

Azalea roared angrily in her mind:

"These lunatics! I've roughly figured out this ritual."

They must be trying to collect this life force and souls to establish a connection with something terrible!

Ron repeated Azalea's question.

Upon hearing this question, Caroline nodded affirmatively.

Her body began to tremble violently, and the control device was warning her not to reveal any more information.

But Caroline knew that if she couldn't provide enough useful information, she would die here soon.

She remembered one of her elective courses and, with trembling fingers, wrote three dragon letters in the sand:

“Mor'du…”

Then, with great difficulty, the following part was added:

"...Korthak"

Mor'du Korthak – in the language of dragons, this means “the supreme ruler”.

This is a special term used by the ancient dragon race to refer to terrifying beings that transcend mortal understanding.

Caroline's body began to spasm.

The control device was activated, and intense pain shot through her nerves like an electric current.

………………

Meanwhile, at the center of the completely out-of-control ritual, the power of chaos spreads like a virus.

Between Leona and Winnie, a frenzied devouring that transcends the boundaries of death begins.

Countless thick vines, as thick as pythons, extended from Leona's back, each emanating a nauseating, corrosive odor.

These tentacles coiled around the insect swarm that Winnie had differentiated at unimaginable speed, dragging them into the abyss of those giant carnivorous flowers.

The moment the petals closed like serrated teeth, a sickening sound of bones breaking was heard.

The insects trapped inside emitted sharp, deathly cries as they dissolved in the strong acid, a sound like thousands of tiny needles piercing a person's eardrums simultaneously.

The digestive fluid shimmered with an eerie fluorescent green light, each drop containing a terrifying power capable of breaking down the very essence of life.

But Winnie's counterattack was equally chilling.

Those insects that appeared to have been completely digested laid their eggs inside Leona's digestive cavity at the end of their lives.

When these eggs came into contact with plant sap, they not only did not die, but instead gained a kind of heterogeneous enhancement.

Using Leona's life essence as nourishment, they hatch into even larger and more ferocious mutated insects in just a few seconds.

These newly born monsters burst forth from within the flowers, appearing as grotesque and terrifying as alien creatures.

Their carapaces have a metallic sheen, their mouthparts are as sharp as scalpels, and their compound eyes burn with a bloodthirsty red light.

Most terrifyingly, these parasitic insects established a forced connection with Leanna's nervous system.

While she enjoys the "pleasure of eating," she must also endure the intense pain of being "eaten away from the inside."

"No...no, stop, but I can't stop..."

Leona let out a nightmare-like groan.

Driven by her plant instincts, she kept devouring, but the parasitic insects caused her unbearable pain.

Pleasure and pain intertwined like twin demons, completely shattering her sanity.

Winnie's situation was equally twisted and cruel.

Whenever her swarm of insects is digested and devoured, a tremendous sense of "loss" arises in the collective consciousness, as if a part of the body has been surgically removed.

But this pain will also stimulate a stronger reproductive urge, driving her to produce more offspring to "fill the void".

"It must be filled, it must be replenished... the population cannot be reduced..."

Countless tiny sounds formed a cacophony in the air, and Winnie's collective consciousness had fallen into a compulsive cycle of egg-laying.

Her body was like a factory, constantly operating, with new insects gushing out of her every second, only to be immediately captured by Leona's tentacles.

This vicious cycle of "devouring-incubating-devouring again" quickly spread throughout the entire ritual center.

The other contestants who were resurrected under the influence of the rampant spores also fell into this morbid interdependence.

A young warrior who was originally from the Sandwalker tribe now has his lower body completely plant-like, with countless roots deeply embedded in the ground to draw nutrients.

His upper body was parasitized by Winnie's swarm of insects, and new insect eggs were constantly being conceived in his chest cavity.

He experiences a twisted pleasure of “new life being born” whenever the insect eggs hatch.

But at the same time, the biting of those larvae caused him so much pain that he wanted to die.

A female shaman from a multifaceted tribe, whose body has transformed into a semi-transparent, sac-like structure.

Floating inside are dozens of embryos at different stages of development, some of which are insects, some of which are plants, and some of which are strange forms that are completely unrecognizable.

Her consciousness was forcibly divided into dozens of fragments, each of which had to go through the "growth memories" of a different embryo.

Birth, foraging, reproduction, death—countless life cycles played out simultaneously in her mind, causing her personality to completely collapse.

The most disgusting thing was a heavily armored warrior from the Stoneheart tribe.

His body was completely transformed from the inside by vines, and his skin was covered with snake-like roots.

Whenever the root system absorbs enough nutrients, its epidermis cracks open, and new insect nests grow.

Insects that hatch from the nest will then lay their eggs inside other victims, forming an even more complex parasitic network.

Under the cursed effect of the "death and rebirth" mechanism, these victims cannot find relief through death.

They are resurrected after being completely devoured, and then continue this twisted "symbiotic" relationship.

Gradually, the bodies of more than a dozen resurrected individuals began to be connected together by vines, tentacles, and parasitic tubes.

They formed a terrifying aggregate resembling a "human centipede".

Each individual's digestive system is connected to the next.

Excrement becomes the next food source, and pain and pleasure are amplified infinitely in this closed loop.

"Kill me...please kill me..."

"Why can't I die... why do I have to wake up..."

"I saw it...I saw myself eating myself..."

Countless voices converged into a hellish chorus, each syllable carrying the ultimate pain that humanity could endure.

In this extreme pain, they would occasionally burst into hysterical laughter.

………………

When Edwin saw this, his lava armor began to tremble violently.

He covered his mouth, forcibly suppressing the churning in his stomach.

Even though he considered himself to be used to seeing horrific sights, he had never witnessed such a disgusting scene.

"Is...is this still life?"

His voice became hoarse from nausea:
Are all experiments conducted by the Tree of Life school so anti-human?

Patricia nearly lost her balance while circling in the air.

Her magically enhanced eyes could capture even more despairing details.

For example, the distorted expressions on the faces of those aggregate members, sometimes in pain and sometimes in ecstasy.

Laku pressed his palms firmly to the ground, trying his best to stop himself from vomiting.

"This is not an experiment..."

Laku gritted his teeth and said, "This is torture, a desecration of the essence of life."

Ron forced himself to keep observing.

As a wizard, he must understand the underlying mechanisms of this distortion in order to find a way to break it.

Under the observation of "spirit vision," he saw an even more shocking truth.

The souls of these aggregates did not merge, but were forcibly separated into countless fragments, each carrying different painful memories.

This "pain collection" mechanism is accumulating energy for some far more sinister purpose.

Caroline lay on the ground, looking at her two former companions in such a distorted and out-of-control state, and sighed softly.

"They... Leona and Winnie, were once girls with beautiful dreams too..."

Her voice was as desolate as autumn leaves falling in the wind:

"When Leanna was little, she loved taking care of injured animals. She said she wanted to become the best healer so that all life could be healthy and happy..."

"Winnie was fascinated by the beauty of insects; she collected hundreds of butterfly specimens, each one a work of art..."

Memories tore at her heart like sharp knives.

The innocent and beautiful past stands in stark contrast to the hellish scene before us.

"We all thought we were pursuing a higher form of life, and we all thought that pain was just a necessary price to pay for growth..."

Caroline covered her face, her shoulders trembling as she sobbed.
"But now I realize that we were deceived from the very beginning. The mentors in those schools of thought never treated us as students, but as experimental subjects..."

At this point, she suddenly fell into a deeper panic.

When she thought about the situation she would face if she returned to the school, an unprecedented sense of despair overwhelmed her.

"Can I still go back?"

Her voice began to tremble, and her eyes showed extreme terror:
"How will the school of thought deal with a failure who knows too many secrets? Will they turn me into... into that kind of monster?"

This realization froze her blood.

As an elite member of the Moon Rank within the Tree of Life school, she knew the organization's operations all too well.

The school of thought never hesitates to ruthlessly exploit those experimental subjects whose value has been fully extracted.

They would either become material for the next round of experiments or be executed "humanitarianly." Those who knew about it would never be allowed to leave freely.

"Maybe...maybe I should die here right now..."

She murmured to herself:

"At least this way, I can retain the last shred of dignity as a human being..."

But just as despair was about to consume her consciousness, Ron's voice rang out again:

"Don't give up hope, you have your own value too."

He crouched down, looking directly into Caroline's terrified eyes:

"The Tree of Life School is not the whole world; there are other paths and other choices."

He chuckled and extended his hand:
"For example, how about joining our Crystal Spire?"

………………

Meanwhile, on a rocky plateau some distance from the center of the ceremony.

The Burning Scale Clan is experiencing a complete collapse of its sense of identity.

The shock of learning the truth about the bloodline is more deadly than any physical attack.

The captain slumped to the ground, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

The Ancestral Soul Stone in his hand had lost all its luster.

Those ancient dragon souls are now completely silent.

He feared that calling out to them again would not elicit any response, and of course, he dared not call upon these angry ancestors again.

"Thousands of years of glory... all lies..."

His voice was as hoarse as a broken bellows:
"What are we, really? Imposters? Experiments? Or... a bunch of pathetic self-deceiving people?"

The other team members were also plunged into deep confusion and despair.

All their pride, from childhood to adulthood, is built on the foundation of "pure dragon blood."

Now that this foundation has completely collapsed, they can no longer even be sure of the meaning of their own existence.

"I remembered..."

A young team member said in a trembling voice:

“When I was a child, I always wondered why our ‘bloodline awakening’ required a special ritual? Shouldn’t true dragons be born with power?”

"And those 'blood purification potions'..."

Another team member replied with a wry smile:

"The elders said it was to 'unleash potential,' but now that I think about it, what was the real purpose of those potions?"

The truth surged forth like a tidal wave, shattering their last line of defense.

Every doubt that was once overlooked has now become irrefutable evidence.

They are not noble descendants of dragons, but rather experimental subjects that have been artificially modified.

Their prized bloodline is nothing more than a replica cultivated in an alchemical laboratory.

"Then what's the point of our lives?"

The youngest player completely broke down, pounding his chest:
"If the power is fake, if the bloodline is fake, then what have all our efforts over the years amounted to?"

An atmosphere of despair spread like a plague through the ranks, and everyone questioned their own worth.

Just as this collective decadence was about to engulf everyone, Baroque suddenly spoke up.

His voice was hoarse, but it carried an unprecedented firmness:
"No matter what the truth is, there is a possibility of change only if we are alive."

He pointed to the ongoing hellish ritual in the distant core area:

“Look at those twisted resurrected ones, and then look at us. At least we still have the chance to choose again.”

This statement was also a way of encouraging himself, and the power of his bloodline began to surge again.

The other team members slowly stood up, their despair beginning to be replaced by new hope.

"Young Master Baroque is indeed right."

One team member shook his head with a wry smile:
"Even if we are experimental subjects, at least we can still survive."

Inspired by Baroque, the Burning Scale Clan members hastily activated the clan's treasured emergency escape runes.

………………

But Baroque himself was undergoing a more profound inner transformation at that moment.

Reid's memories flooded his consciousness like a torrent.

"The source of strength lies not in the blood, but in the heart."

The voice of "Burning Dragon" Red echoed continuously in the depths of his consciousness:
"True strength lies in those who can confront the truth and draw strength from it to grow."

This revelation enlightened Baroque like a sudden awakening.

He began to actively accept the pain brought about by the blood conflict, regarding it as an inevitable part of growth.

When the artificial dragon blood clashed violently with his original human bloodline, he did not run away, but bravely embraced the pain.

In the midst of suffering, he found his true self.

Imperfect, full of contradictions, but absolutely real.

But Cecilia is plunged into an unprecedented aesthetic crisis when she sees the Baroque's appearance distorted by bloodline conflict.

"No...this is too ugly..."

She trembled and backed away, her eyes filled with unbearable fear:

“Your face…your body, this asymmetry…this chaos…”

The Baroque style is indeed undergoing dramatic changes.

Human and dragon bloodline characteristics alternately appear on him.

The left half of its face retains the delicate skin of a human, while the right half is covered with golden-red dragon scales.

One eye was a normal brown, while the other burned with the golden flames unique to dragons.

While this "hybrid" state is real, it certainly doesn't conform to traditional aesthetic standards.

Cecilia's "perfectionist obsession" was completely triggered.

She began to unleash her ability to "reconstruct aesthetics," attempting to "correct" the Baroque style into a perfect form that conformed to her aesthetic standards.

Countless golden threads extended from the void, attempting to entangle Baroque's body.

But the Baroque style resolutely rejected this "beautification".

"Get out of here, I won't accept this!"

Unlike the native warriors of the past, Baroque actually forcibly tore apart the golden threads that were trying to transform him:
"This is the real me—imperfect, but real."

“I don’t need your perfection; I want to maintain this contradiction and conflict. That’s what my ancestor Red taught me.”

This rejection stung Cecilia's heart like a needle.

In her view, any imperfection should be "corrected," and any act of refusing to beautify is a desecration of art.

"You don't understand, you're so ugly, you're polluting the beauty of the whole world..."

Her voice began to turn hysterical:
"I must fix you, I must make everything perfect..."

Cecilia's "aesthetic obsession" reached a morbid peak.

She began to view the entire battlefield as a huge painting that needed "correction".

Not only Baroque, but also the mutants fighting in the distance.

Even flying dust and bloodstains were included in her "needs to be beautify" list.

Her aesthetic realm began to spread indiscriminately in all directions.

Golden threads, like a spider web, filled the air, each carrying the terrifying power of "forced perfection."

But this ability was so powerful that even she herself began to lose control of it.

"Beauty... everything must become beautiful, there can be no ugliness... no flaws..."

Cecilia's sanity began to crumble, consumed by her morbid obsession with perfection.

Her aesthetic realm began to self-recurse.

Constantly "correcting" things that have already been "corrected," pursuing an absolute perfection that can never be achieved.

Ultimately, this infinitely recursive process of perfection created a "work" that perfectly met her aesthetic standards.

A cage made entirely of crystal.

Every angle of this cage has been precisely calculated, and the refraction of every ray of light has achieved mathematical perfection.

There are no irregular elements inside, and no factors that could produce an "ugly" appearance.

Cecilia is trapped in the center of her own "masterpiece".

She attained eternal beauty.

But at the same time, she also lost the possibility of any change.

In this absolutely perfect space, life also loses its vitality.

She became a breathtakingly beautiful, yet lifeless work of art.

Even through the crystal cage, his eyes could still move, and his consciousness remained clear.

She can see the "imperfect" world outside, and feel the vitality of life and the beauty of chaos.

But she can no longer touch, change, or participate.

Cecilia can only observe forever, yearn forever, and be forever trapped in the perfect prison she created.

This punishment is crueler than death.

She achieved the perfection she had always dreamed of, but at the cost of losing all possibilities as a life.

As Baroque watched this scene, indescribable emotions welled up within him.

There was regret, there was sympathy, but more than anything, there was a profound realization.

True beauty lies not in perfection, but in accepting imperfections and finding value in them.

He gently stroked his face, which was half human and half dragon:

"Imperfect, but real, that's enough."

(End of this chapter)