Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The advantages of the former were self-evident.
The problem was that the skills that could be written into the genetic level were relatively simple.
Even the Apocalyptic Beasts could only master seven to nine methods to construct a spirit magnetic field.
Moreover, the skills were all solidified, so there was almost no possibility of upgrading and expanding.
Although the latter required a long time to learn and its results were not guaranteed…
There were endless possibilities for changes and upgrades.
Even a one-to three-star Earth Realm superhumans could master dozens of construction methods of the spiritual magnetic field, perform dozens of skills in battle, and combine them with different styles and tools, it could produce hundreds of dazzling tactics.
Theoretically speaking, if a superhuman was given a long life, he could even learn tens of thousands of methods to construct the spirit magnetic field.
This was something that could not be achieved by “innate writing.”
The way the Turan used their spirit energy was somewhat biased toward the monsters’ innate writing.
The five great clans all had unique totem combat techniques that originated from their genes and were engraved on the genetic level.
The purer the bloodline, the richer and clearer the combat information contained in the genetic factors. It allowed those pure-blooded nobles to awaken the power of totems without a teacher at a very young age.
From this perspective, it was not unreasonable for the nobles from clans with thousands of years of history to despise the rat people who constantly mixed blood, losing their clan characteristics as a result.
Since the latter’s bloodlines were constantly diluted and fused, the “combat procedures” in their genetics became mostly fragmented and unrecognizable.
That made it ten times more difficult for them to awaken their totem power than the pure-blooded warriors.
In the absence of a scientific, comprehensive, and standardized training system, as well as relevant schools, virtual, and distance education channels, the Turan had relied on their family’s bloodline to pass down the path of spirit energy utilization. Before the Great Horn Army’s rise, there had almost been no chance for the rat people to awaken naturally and make a comeback.
Other than that, there was another fatal side effect of innate writing.
This method of transmitting information directly through genetic factors at the genetic level seemed to affect the logical thinking ability of carbon-based intelligent life.
The so-called wisdom was not necessary to survive in the first place.
If the skills necessary to climb to the top of the food chain had already been engraved in the genes, then there was no need to learn more messy dragon-slaying skills. As long as one kept fighting, killing, and destroying, the ferocity in the depths of the genes would be fully activated, it would be enough to fully activate it.
Meng Chao had a suspicion that the Turan civilization would continue to deteriorate.
From the beginning when they could create ‘Totem Armor’, the ultimate single-soldier equipment that was full of black technology, to the present, they could not even create the simplest rifle.
It was because, at a critical point ten thousand years ago, they had chosen to use innate writing rather than acquired learning to pass down their skills.
At this moment, Meng Chao’s thoughts were interrupted by the loud shout on the stage.
When he raised his head, he realized that two priests had used two special iron pincers to press a totem armor fragment that was emitting orange-red light and seemed to have been burned to a high temperature of over a thousand degrees onto the totem on Iron Head’s chest.
The totem was the in a part of Iron Head’s body where the spirit energy was the densest. His cells were expanding, his blood was boiling, and his mitochondria were pumping out energy crazily. It was a natural reaction on Iron Head’s skin.
When the totem armor fragment felt Iron Head’s surging vitality, it immediately trembled like a living creature. It extended dozens of thin tentacles and pierced deeply into the Iron Head’s body.
Immediately after, the entire breastplate was tightly glued together as if it had grown out of the Iron Head’s body.
The rat people could not be equipped with totem armor—that was also a lie meticulously fabricated by the rulers of Picturesque Orchid Lake.
To be more accurate, it should be, “The rat people who have not received a large amount of cultivation resources since childhood and have congenital defects in their bodies are unable to ensure their physical health and mental stability for long-term use of totem armor. It is a deadly weapon that consumes a lot of energy and is very likely to backfire on its owner.”
However, whether it was the Rat God priests who were singing and dancing, or the tens of thousands of excited rat soldiers whose eyes were spitting fire…
Even Iron Head himself, who could not tell if he was in excruciating pain or an explosion of pleasure, was being attacked by the power of a flood or a ferocious beast.
He probably did not care when the totem armor would completely exhaust his fire of life.
Even if that time was tomorrow.
“Rawrrr!”
Iron Head let out a deafening roar again. He raised his head and puffed out his chest, showing everyone the totem armor fragment that was perfectly embedded in his chest.
The totem that had just emerged from his chest seemed to have a strange penetrative force. It actually emerged from the surface of his chest armor, forming a vortex-like pattern. The uneven pattern made the sound of Iron Head hammering his chest, turning into waves of thunder.
“Look, who said that the rat people can’t be equipped with totem battle armor? Those are all outright lies!”
A Rat God priest with seventeen or eighteen strange horns on his head said loudly in a provocative tone, “With the Rat God’s blessing, the brave warrior who had just attacked the city and seized the flag had successfully subdued the ferocious soul hidden in the totem armor, becoming an invincible totem warrior!
“To celebrate his victory and remember his glory, let’s shout out this warrior’s new name, Flag Snatcher!”
The name of an advanced orc was not fixed for life.
However, at every stage of life, one had to create a more magnificent and glorious achievement than the previous stage in order to be qualified to change one’s name to a more resounding one.
If an advanced orc only used one name in his entire life…
It meant that he had never experienced anything shocking or memorable in his life.
Even at his own funeral, he would be ridiculed.
To Iron Head, the name “Flag Snatcher” was appropriate.
For a moment, the “Flag Snatcher” syllable in the Turan language, which gave off the feeling of metallic swords clashing, spurted out from tens of thousands of throats and resounded throughout the entire camp.
Even the guards on the Hundred Blade City’s tower, which was a few kilometers away, heard their cheers. For a moment, their expressions were downcast and extremely dejected.
The sacrificial ceremony ended successfully in an extremely warm atmosphere.
Apart from Iron Head, there were also hundreds of rat soldiers who had been exceptionally brave in battle, and they were rewarded to varying degrees.
Amongst them were Meng Chao and Ice Storm.
The two of them pretty much followed Iron Head… no, Flag Snatcher.
There was nothing they could do. When Flag Snatcher had fallen from the city wall, the two of them had followed him closely. They had even shouted in his ear before summoning his spirit.
Flag Snatcher left a deep impression on these two soldiers who were “almost as brave as him.”
As a result, Meng Chao, Ice Storm, and hundreds of meritorious persons became the elites of the Great Horn Army, the sharp blades of the Ancient Dream Saintess, and members of the White Bone Battalion.
They could finally leave the encirclement of Hundred Blade City and head to the more important battlefield.
Besieging Hundred Blade City was a protracted war of attrition. The result of dropping tens of thousands of corpses was just a light battle flag.
If they wanted to completely conquer Hundred Blade City, they would have to leave behind tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of corpses.
Such a cruel bottomless pit should be filled with the corpses of ordinary civilian rat people.
Elites like Flag Snatcher, Meng Chao, and Ice Storm who had proved their courage, loyalty, and ability on the battlefield should die in a more meaningful place.
The officers of the White Bone Battalion who had come to receive this batch of new elites told them that they were about to carry out an even more arduous, glorious, and sacred mission.
They were going to ambush the Wolf Clan’s elite battle group that was rushing toward Hundred Blade City!
“The Wolf Clan is nothing to be afraid of. They have long been slaughtered by the Ancient Dream Saintess. In the Hundred Blade City, we have also beaten them to a pulp. We have even seized the battle flag that symbolizes their will and glory!”
The officers of the White Bone Battalion waved the wolf fang battle saber that they had seized from the Wolf Clan and shouted at the top of their lungs to boost everyone’s morale. “Warriors of the White Bone Battalion, let us gather the anger from tens of millions of years and bring a final blow to these stray dogs!”
Facing off against the Wolf Clan’s elite battle group in the field was like facing off against a white blade.
This was something that the rat tribe warriors from two months ago… no, one month ago, did not even dare to dream about.
However, they had been overwhelmed by a series of victories. The pride of joining the White Bone Battalion had filled every single vein and nerve. With encouragement from Flag Snatcher, who was “protected by the Rat God and invulnerable to weapons,” all of the newly promoted elites firmly believed that even if they were destined to bleed out completely before the sun rose tomorrow, the final victory would belong to the rat people, the Ancient Dream Saintess, and the Great Horn Army. It belonged to the great Rat God!
Moreover, the White Bone Battalion officers had not only brought empty slogans.
Apart from a complete change of equipment, everyone was equipped with fully-tempered metal armor and weapons.
There was also a high-energy food supply that had a strange fragrance.
There was also a divine artifact that was said to have been dug out by the Ancient Dream Saintess from a lost temple. It dated back tens of thousands of years ago.
At first glance, it was a half-arm-tall, crystal-clear white bone sculpture of the Rat God.
Among the intricate natural patterns on the sculpture, there was a faint totem power flowing. However, this bone sculpture still had cell activity, as if it had a feeling of life.
The White Bone Battalion officer respectfully placed the bone statue on a temporary altar.
He also asked the elite rat subjects who had just joined the White Bone Battalion to come forward, bite their index fingers one by one, and squeeze a drop of blood onto the bone statue.
The bone statue was smooth like jade, and there were no tiny holes on its surface.
The moment the blood touched the bone statue, it did not stop or slip. Instead, it seeped into the bone statue and disappeared without a trace.
Hundreds of elite rat subjects and drops of blood that could fill at least a big bowl, gathered together.
After being sucked dry, only the vivid eyes on the bone carving were slightly red..