Chapter 112: Evolution | Promotion

Several weeks passed. Down in the physical realm, the industrial vats never stopped churning. The Omni-Biomass Digester relentlessly processed the multiplied monitor lizard meat, the mutated Aegis-crops, and the Treants’ fermented nectar into a hyper-dense alchemical paste. Red forced this massive caloric intake into the daily rations of every single unit in his empire.

Shortly after the command, Gorak, Iron-Scale, Mud-Skippers, and their detachment marched back into the stone courtyard of the Bastion, rejoining the bulk of the forces already stationed there and at the Onyx Hall.

With his entire army secured within his borders, Red initiated the next phase.

Over the next few weeks, the industrial vats never stopped churning. The Omni-Biomass Digester relentlessly processed the multiplied monitor lizard meat, the mutated Aegis-crops, and the Treants’ fermented nectar into a dense alchemical paste. Red forced this massive caloric intake into the daily rations of every single unit across his empire.

The sheer volume of raw, magical calories and extreme physical labor had forced a faction-wide evolutionary leap.

“Look at those base stats,” Red whispered, a cold smile spreading across his face as the numbers spiked green across his screen. “The diet worked flawlessly.”

He dragged his viewport across the Onyx Hall. Gorak and the Troglodytes had swelled to monstrous sizes. The diet had thickened their natural muscle density by a massive margin. Their craggy skin had hardened into jagged, overlapping plates of organic armor, turning the standard shock-troops into towering, unstoppable juggernauts.

“Now the Troglodytes are how they were originally supposed to be.”

Down by the deep mud trenches, Fin-Bar and the Grey-Fins had shed their sleeker, amphibious profiles. Their scales were now completely dense and obsidian-dark, capable of deflecting standard iron blades without a scratch. Razor-sharp dorsal crests ran down their spines, and their jaws possessed enough bite-force to snap solid bronze.

Up on the walls, Iron-Scale and the Kobolds skittered along the stonework. They were no longer scrawny, fragile scavengers. The caloric paste had packed their small frames with tightly wound, explosive muscle. Their claws glinted like polished steel, allowing them to scale sheer vertical cliffs with terrifying, spider-like agility.

The Mud-Skippers, usually serving as basic ambush units, had bulked out terrifyingly. Their limbs were thick and corded, their skin shifting with a natural, hardened camouflage that perfectly mimicked the jagged stone of the fortress.

The Shell-Kin settled into defensive formations nearby. The Aegis-infused water and the dense paste had caused their natural domes to expand and calcify. They no longer looked like oversized crustaceans; they resembled living, impenetrable siege bunkers.

Even the ancient Treants stationed around the Bastion had not been spared. Consuming their own fermented nectar had petrified their bark into an unyielding, dark ironwood. Faint, glowing teal veins pulsed beneath their wooden armor, seemingly a direct biological link to the hyper-regenerative Aegis spores in their sap.

Red then shifted the camera north, zooming in on the City of Spiral.

The fourteen thousand human laborers stationed in the capital had completely shed the fragile mortality of the Lost Land. Surviving on a diet of mutated super-grains and divine beast-marrow had fundamentally rewritten their biology. They were broad-shouldered, their skin tanned and tough as leather. Scars from industrial accidents had seamlessly knitted together, leaving behind perfectly mended, highly dense muscle tissue. Their eyes burned with raw alchemical energy. They looked like absolute, unyielding machines of war.

“Ka-Lam-Tee,” Gorak’s grating voice echoed through the neural tether from the Bastion. “The vanguard stands ready. The flesh is forged.”

“I can see that,” Red replied, his voice broadcasting directly into the minds of his commanders. “Rest your forces and man the artillery grid. The western borders are collapsing as we speak. When the survivors finally cross the river, we are going to show them exactly what happens when you step onto a factory floor.”

Down in the physical realm, the newly evolved forces immediately synchronized, taking up positions that perfectly utilized their new biological upgrades. Gorak directed his massive, plate-armored Troglodytes to lock into the automated star-iron ballistas, their immense strength easily cranking the massive gears.

Fin-Bar led the obsidian-scaled Grey-Fins into the submerged mud-trenches along the glowing riverbank, their dense camouflage and bone-snapping jaws turning the water’s edge into a death trap.

High above them, Iron-Scale and his steel-clawed Kobolds scaled the Bastion’s sheer vertical drops, disappearing into the high-altitude sniper nests with terrifying agility. Down at the choke points, the Shell-Kin simply sat down, locking their calcified domes into the earth to form literal, living barricades.

Red watched the flawless deployment, his gaze eventually settling on the towering figure in the center of the temple.

Krug stood by the Omni-Spore roots, calmly directing the continuous flow of the alchemical paste. The Kobold High Priest had orchestrated the massive agricultural shift, the fermentation process, and the integration of the Aegis spores. His own small, scaled frame had bulked out from the diet, his scales glinting like polished steel. He had flawlessly executed a logistical miracle that practically saved their civilization from the impending calamity.

Red opened the faction management tab and clicked on Krug’s profile. The requirements for the next divine tier were already glowing green.

He authorized the Divine Point expenditure and hit the execution key.

[ FOLLOWER PROMOTION: PROPHET (THE HERALD) ]

[ DIRECT TWO-WAY CHAT ESTABLISHED. NO DP WILL BE USED TO COMMUNICATE. ]

Before the golden light could even fully settle over Krug’s scaled frame, the System flashed again. The Kobold’s absolute loyalty and flawless execution of Red’s industrial death-cult philosophy had pushed his synchronization to a complete one hundred percent.

“That’s the last stage.”

Red paid the massive DP cost and slammed the key a second time.

[ FOLLOWER PROMOTION: APOSTLE (THE VESSEL) ]

[ SYNCHRONIZATION: ABSOLUTE. AVATAR HOSTING UNLOCKED. ]

Down below, Krug dropped to his knees as raw, crimson system data flooded his body, solidifying his status as the highest mortal authority in the faction. The Kobold could now physically host Red’s divine avatar without his body violently splintering apart from the sheer pressure of a god’s soul.

“A perfect vessel,” Red muttered, leaning back and swiping the notification aside. “Too bad I can’t use it yet, but it does give me incentive to rank up and try it. I wonder how it would feel to have a body.”

Red possessed more than enough hoarded wealth to inflate his rank, but doing so would instantly trigger some unwanted events which he didn’t have time for. Staying at Rank Seven was his sandbagging strategy. It kept him completely off the global threat boards while his automated empire did the actual killing.

“But I will lose the achievement rewards.”

“Keep managing the floor, Krug,” Red typed directly into their newly established, zero-cost chat link. “I will be watching.”

’We are ready, Ka-Lam-Tee,’ Krug responded. ’Let the outsiders test our iron.’

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