Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 210 The End of the Mother Nest
The night was as heavy as solidified ink, and the mountains were swallowed by blood mist, leaving only a towering stone altar standing atop the steps piled with white bones.

Thousands of Snowsworn were clad in tattered armor or robes adorned with bone ornaments.

His chest was covered with densely packed totems carved with a sharp blade, like patterns of self-inflicted wounds, bearing witness to both piety and madness.

They knelt in orderly rows before the altar, their heads bowed.

An elderly veteran, tears welling in his eyes, murmured with trembling lips, "Today... is the festival of the gods' return... we've finally waited for this..."

The young soldiers, their eyes bloodshot, shouted: "The blood debt will be repaid! Our wrath will cleanse the earth!"

It was as if they were not participating in a ritual, but embarking on a sacred journey of revenge.

Some even held up the severed heads of imperial prisoners, smeared the drops of blood on their foreheads, and shouted, "The food of the ancient gods... is ready!"

At the height of this frenzied prayer, the air suddenly froze, and a suffocating chill surged up the stone altar like an undercurrent.

He showed up.

A half-mask, a blend of silver and black, covered half of his face, while the other side, like an ice sculpture under the moon, was cold, beautiful, and ruthless.

Her long hair fell like night mist, swaying gently in the wind, like a whisper from the abyss.

Blood and snow formed a carpet, and his toes trod upon it lightly, leaving no trace, as if even the earth dared not touch his presence.

All was silent on the altar.

Everyone bowed their heads at the same time, like believers welcoming God, their voices trembling as they called out His title.

"The High Priest!"

"An apostle of the Cold Abyss!"

"God's messenger!"

The Witch of Despair did not respond, but slowly walked into the center of the altar, stood on the black pattern array that was about to crack, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the moment.

At that very moment, a deep rumble came from the depths of the earth.

Like a heartbeat, like gnawing, like a ruptured capsule.

The entire altar trembled slightly, as if the world beneath our feet was awakening.

This massive, malevolent wriggling mass originated from underground.

The sealed mother nest finally couldn't wait to start twisting its body and crashing against the shell wall, waiting to break out of its cocoon and ascend.

Feeling the rhythm beneath her feet, the Witch of Despair slowly opened her eyes, a slight smile curving her lips. She simply raised her hand, and in that instant, all fell silent.

The man's voice was deep and gentle, like a fireplace burning on a cold winter night, yet chilling to the bone:
"You once knelt under the iron boots of the empire, watched your loved ones being strangled, watched the flames devour your snowy homeland, and ate your own flesh and blood in the melting snow, just to survive."

They called you 'barbarians,' they called you 'sinful blood.' But you have never forgotten..."

He opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the valley like a frosty blade.

"But you have never given up your revenge, because you are the people of the Snow Kingdom, the bloodline of the Cold Abyss, and the avengers of fate!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the Snow Oath members trembled with excitement, their breathing rapid, yet they remained kneeling on the spot, not daring to interrupt.

The Witch of Despair opened her arms as if to embrace the entire North.

“From this day forward, we will no longer beg for mercy, nor will we plead for fate. We will awaken the ancient gods with our blood, and awaken power with our incantations. From this day forward, snow will no longer be pure white; it will be stained red with vengeance.”

His voice gradually rose, like thunder breaking the silence and soaring to the sky: "The Empire will kneel at the edge of hell and watch you return to the North, rebuild the Snow Kingdom, and ignite the last flames of war in the Frost Abyss!"

Silence lingered for several breaths after the witch's words fell, as if the world itself were holding its breath.

But the next moment, a wave of shouts erupted.

"The Frost Abyss! Immortal!!"

"Avenge the ancient gods!! Dedicate ourselves to the Snow Kingdom!!!"

It was a scream that tore at the throat, a mixture of weeping, roaring and prayer, that swept through the entire snow valley.

Thousands of Snow Oath takers knelt down at the same time, their hands raised high, the snow soaked with blood and tears.

The young warrior struck his chest with his battle axe, his eyes bloodshot, as if he had heard the call of his ancestors.

The elderly shaman raised his bone staff with trembling hands, repeatedly invoking ancient words of the gods, sobbing uncontrollably.

The Snow Oathtakers were like pilgrims driven to madness, their tears, blood, screams, and pain intertwining into a terrifying sense of holiness.

It was as if they could really see some unseen god looking down at them from the distant sky.

They truly believed it.

On the high platform, the black-robed witch silently looked down at the scene before her.

He didn't speak or move; the snow wind swept through his silver-black hair, as if time stood still at his feet.

Beneath that half-covered face, a slight smile played at the corners of his lips.

But it wasn't gentle; it was more like irony.

"Tsk, what good kids, but... if you're going to act, you have to go all the way," he muttered to himself, a hint of chilling mockery in his voice.

The Witch of Despair slowly raised her hands, like a saint receiving worship, her black robes fluttering in the snowy wind.

The tens of thousands of people below the stage erupted in a thunderous roar that shook the heavens and seemed to make even the mountains tremble.

At this very moment——

"Boom..."

A deep, muffled sound, like the tolling of a bell, came from the depths of the altar beneath his feet.

The bloodstone-paved floor tiles trembled slightly, and visible cracks quietly meandered.

"Boom... boom..."

That wasn't the sound of rocks cracking; it was more like the sound of some enormous heart slowly awakening and beating underground.

A wet, sticky wriggling sound came from deep underground, like a giant beast covered in mud turning over; or like thousands of insect eggs hatching at the same time, colliding and tearing at each other.

The Snow Oath followers below the stage were completely unaware, believing the tremors were an ancient god's response to their prayers, and their cheers grew even more frenzied, with some even kneeling on the ground and wailing.

"It's a god! The ancient gods heard us!!"

"Grant me revenge! I will burn every stone of the empire!!"

"God has come! The Mother Goddess has responded!!"

The shouts were like sparks falling into dry tinder, instantly igniting the fervor of the entire altar.

Tens of thousands cheered, shouted, and wept, while kneeling soldiers struck their heads against stone slabs, praying for a "miracle."

But slowly, something started to go wrong.

"Thump...thump...thump thump thump..."

A strange, rhythmic vibration came from deep underground; it was not a response from God, but a hungering throbbing.

The cocoon began to throb violently, bursting open from the gaps to release countless eggs. Blood-red tentacles emerged from the cocoon, slowly wrapping around the stone bones and magic array, rolling like a tide.

Blood mist began to seep from the cracks in the ground, and the air became humid and warm, as if one had fallen into the cavity of some living being.

At that moment, the noise suddenly stopped.

The crowd seemed to have lost its voice. Some people opened their mouths wide, wanting to continue cheering, but only managed to exhale a trembling breath.

Someone unconsciously took a step back, quietly grabbed the arm of their companion, and an inexplicable fear appeared in their eyes.

“…No.” An older Snow Oath warrior’s lips moved slightly as he murmured.

Immediately afterwards, an indescribable "crying" came from underground.

It wasn't just one sound, but thousands upon thousands of sounds piled up together.

The sound was like countless babies crying simultaneously in the darkness, or like a swallowed soul uttering its final whimper before death:

"Ah...ahh ...

The center of the Bloodstone Altar cracked open.

A towering, colossal mother nest slowly rose from the Bloodstone Abyss, like a fallen Mother Mother born from the womb of hell.

Its body exhibits a morbid maternal beauty.

The upper body resembles a distorted human form, with outstretched arms, like a holy icon welcoming the return of the devout.

However, this embrace did not offer warmth, but was stained with death, as if it were preparing to welcome the destruction of all things.

That face, which resembled that of a human woman, had features that seemed to be a fusion of countless faces of suffering. The corners of her mouth were raised as if she were crying or laughing, her eyes were tightly closed, and milky white liquid kept flowing from the corners of her eyes.

It was not tears, but rather the incubation fluid that seeped from the insect eggs and blood plasma.

There were no eyeballs in its eyes, but rather a dense swarm of insects crawling and wriggling. With each blink, it seemed as if hundreds of lives were wailing and crying.

Its lower body gradually disintegrates into flowing, fleshy ovaries and incubation organs. In the abyss built of flesh and blood, it continuously spews out viscous follicles and twisted tentacles, producing "offspring" in an endless stream.

The not-yet-fully-formed insect corpses rolled and struggled in the blood and mucus, emitting a sticky hissing sound like the cries of infants.

The entire surface of the mother nest is covered with human faces, most of whom were former sacrifices.

Supporting all of this are dozens of thick, segmented tentacles that meander from the ground, digging deep into the earth like spider legs, chewing and taking root between flesh and rock.

On the altar, the Witch of Despair gazed silently up at the colossal, fleshy statue that rose from the ground, as if looking at a work of art that had finally been completed.

“It’s perfect.”

The man's voice was so gentle it was almost distorted, and there was not a trace of human pity in his tone, only a cold intoxication.

"More elegant and efficient than the previous two generations, possessing a complete independent personality and decision-making ability... no longer needs me to feed it constantly, no longer a tool, but an ally, or even... a future 'god'."

This is the culmination of his many years of hard work, the unique and complete form of the Mother Nest—the End Mother Nest.

The first and second generation mother nests? They're like primitive people in front of this complete entity.

It is not only stronger, but also possesses a "personality-like core" with incredible abilities such as self-learning, mimicry induction, and spreading mental pollution.

The Snow Oathtakers who had been chanting "God's Descent" and "Blood Sacrifice" were now frozen in place.

Although they were all seasoned veterans, such bizarre creatures were clearly beyond their comprehension.

The crowd began to back away, no longer in excited pushing, but instinctively avoiding each other. In the chaos, some people fell and some screamed.

“This…this is not right…this is not an ancient god…this is not the appearance of our priests…”

A young soldier knelt on the ground, holding a spear, but his whole body was trembling, like a child who had been stripped naked.

Another old man's lips trembled as he tried to recite the ancient prayer, but he couldn't utter a single word, only broken groans.

The first to react was their leader, Hiro.

Unlike the others, he wasn't overwhelmed by fear; instead, he suddenly stiffened, like a wild beast that had finally realized the existence of a cage.

“What is this…” His eyes widened, his pupils trembled violently, and he murmured, looking back at the eerie mother nest, then at the witch draped in black veil on the high platform.

A surge of rage, like a raging storm over a snowy plain, erupted from his chest. He roared like thunder: "You lied to me! You lied to all of us! This is not a god! Not an ancient god of the abyss—this is a monster! This is calamity!"

Why...why have I been so bewitched by you for so long!

He was once the most steadfast spark of faith, the symbol who led his people to kneel and worship the "gods," and he personally lit the first torch for the sacrifice.

Now his voice is tearing the heavens and earth apart, proving his own folly.

He finally awoke from the beautiful dream woven by the witch's illusion.

But it was all too late.

The Witch of Despair simply smiled, as if she had heard something utterly ridiculous.

The corners of her lips curved up, just like a loving mother watching her rebellious child struggle.

"It's been so long since I've heard someone shout at me like that..."

He snapped his fingers lightly and whispered, "Then let the blessing begin."

The next moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath.

“Crack…”

A twisted, wet, crisp sound rang out—the sound of some forbidden creature slowly opening its shell.

What followed was a nauseating sound, like an eardrum tearing.
Dozens of spiral-shaped fleshy slits slowly opened up on the abdomen of the mother nest.

Each one is like a mouth yearning for milk, or a blooming evil flower, with fleshy membranes writhing and rolling, dripping thick spores.

The petal-like chamber trembled slowly within the black spore paste, and a foul stench wafted out.

It was a smell that was a mixture of blood, decaying embryos, and fermenting spores, so strong it was almost intoxicating.

"It...it moved..." A believer murmured incoherently as he stared at the enormous fleshy flower, as if sleepwalking.

Before more people could raise questions, a thin, translucent mist began to slowly drift out from the depths of those cracks.

That wasn't ordinary fog, but a kind of "insect fog" with a sticky texture.

It swirls and meanders in the air like flowing water, each strand seemingly possessing some kind of consciousness, undisturbed by the wind, winding around the high platform like a snake, slowly spreading out in the sky.

“How strange…it’s talking to me…I hear it calling me…” someone murmured, their eyes unfocused.

The mist began to sink, slowly covering the entire altar square, silently descending upon the heads, shoulders, and breaths of every believer.

They failed to notice that countless tiny "corpse worms" were hidden within the seemingly harmless fog.

Each corpse worm is smaller than a grain of rice, completely transparent, with its internal organs faintly visible, resembling a newly born worm embryo, floating, crawling, and lurking in the mist.

They silently attach themselves to people's skin, nail folds, ear canals, and nasal cavities.

At first, no one noticed until the first scream rang out.

"It...it's crawling in my eye!!" A Snow Oath warrior suddenly threw his head back and roared, frantically scratching at his eye sockets with both hands, blood gushing out, as if he wanted to gouge out his entire eyeball.

But what was chilling was that he suddenly stopped.

His body was still convulsing, but his expression had returned to calm, as peaceful as a baby's, and his eyes were empty.

The next moment, people began to tremble, convulse, and vomit on the ground, by the steps, and under the stone pillars.

　I feel dizzy. I slept all day. I'll probably still feel it later...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)