Chapter 220: The Iron Cage Prison
Deep within the shelter pod, the monotonous hum of the ventilation units became the only constant sound in this sealed space.
After the heavy alloy gate was locked, the sounds of external slaughter and beast roars were isolated by the thick layers. However, the invisible psychic pressure did not stop at the gate. The consciousness waves of the Sharp-Sense Ancient Being could penetrate the concrete and alloy layers. Like ice-cold needles, they continuously pierced into the Sea of Consciousness of everyone inside the cabin. No one could escape. Without Sea of Consciousness cultivators to build barriers and share the burden, everyone had to endure the waves of throbbing pain and dizziness alone.
Many civilians were curled up on the anti-slip floor mats on both sides of the cabin, their hands tightly covering their ears, their bodies occasionally trembling uncontrollably. The illusions would still descend without warning: some saw the alloy ceiling above slowly melting, with black spore liquid dripping through the seams; others saw the gate collapsing inward, the sharp claws of the scaled beasts reaching in through the cracks; still others heard the calls of their deceased relatives in the alleys outside, struggling to rush toward the gate, only to be gently held down by the military police guarding the passage, who repeatedly chanted wake-up code words to soothe them.
The space inside the cabin was simply divided.
The innermost area was the civilian resettlement zone. The elderly and children were huddled together, with most children having their eyes covered by their mothers, not daring to look around. The middle section was the wounded area. Forty-two wounded lay on simple stretchers, their bandages soaked with dark red blood. Medical supplies were already scarce. The military doctor ran back and forth, only able to prioritize treating massive hemorrhages and open wounds. Near the gate was the alert zone for the remaining thirty-plus combat personnel. Their weapons were placed within arm's reach, and they took turns standing guard, not daring to relax for a moment.
Lin Yan set up his portable terminal on a reinforced bracket next to the wounded area. The screen clearly projected the distribution of thermal signatures outside the shelter pod.
Dense light points were spread out in circles along the outer wall of the shelter pod, forming a tight encirclement. Three third-tier scaled beasts guarded the entrances of the three passages leading to the pod door. The remaining ordinary scaled beasts scattered, slowly patrolling close to the outer wall of the pod, continuously ramming the exterior with their heads and tails. The dull thud, thud sounds were intermittently transmitted through the thick steel plate. The rhythm was slow and steady, like an endless drumbeat of doom.
"They are not attempting to forcibly breach the pod," Lin Yan reported steadily to Scholar Su, staring at the movement patterns of the thermal signatures. "The claws and bone spurs of the scaled beasts cannot gnaw through this level of cast alloy. The Beast Commander knows that a direct assault would be too costly and has chosen to besiege us. They are taking turns ramming the outer wall. On one hand, this continues to exert psychological pressure on us; on the other hand, they are looking for weak points like pod pipelines and ventilation shafts."
Scholar Su stood in front of the terminal screen, his gaze sweeping over the ring of black light points before turning to the supply statistics table beside him.
"Drinking water is to be distributed at the minimum ration, one small portion per person per day. Compressed rations will also be reduced. At the current rate of consumption, our reserves can support a maximum of twenty-one days. The oxygen circulation system is intact, but the filter modules are degrading. After fourteen days at most, the purification efficiency will continue to decline," the adjutant reported the data in a low voice, his tone heavy. "Medical consumables are critically short, and the painkillers are almost gone."
Twenty-one days.
This was the time limit left for everyone. Either they would wait for reinforcements from the other directions of the six bastions during this time, or... they would wait until their resources were exhausted and starve to death inside this iron box.
But everyone knew in their hearts that the hope for reinforcements was slim.
When the beast tide broke out, all six bastions were in a state of emergency, each bearing the offensive launched by the lizard ancient beings. Every defensive line was stretched to the limit, struggling to defend themselves. The external communication base stations of the West Bastion had been completely destroyed. Now, the shelter pod only retained a low-power encrypted long-wave radio. The signal had a hard time penetrating the spore cloud to transmit distress messages outward. Whether it could be sent out, or whether it could be received by the other bastions, was entirely unknown.
"Radio watch personnel, send a distress message every two hours on a fixed frequency. Do not stop," Scholar Su ordered in a deep voice. "Install blast-proof grilles on all ventilation shafts and assign dedicated personnel to guard them. Once a scaled beast is detected attempting to infiltrate through the ventilation pipeline, immediately detonate the small blast-blocking charges pre-installed inside the pipeline. All personnel must take shifts to rest, ensuring that at least half of the people remain awake at all times to prevent large-scale loss of control triggered by illusions."
The orders were passed down layer by layer, and the order inside the cabin slowly stabilized.
Deep within the cavern, the five ancient beings remained at the core of the rift, their consciousness quietly connecting to the beast herd besieging the shelter pod.
The Beast Commander methodically arranged for the scaled beasts to take turns on guard duty. Some rested to recover their strength, while others patrolled the outer walls to probe and ram as a deterrent. The Sharp-Sense Ancient Being retracted its previous explosive impacts, shifting to a continuous, low-intensity erosion. It slowly wore down the mental endurance of the people inside the cabin. Compared to fierce battles, this slow torture was more likely to break people's spirits. The Illusion Ancient Being no longer projected large-scale bloody scenes. Instead, it created gentle, tempting illusions: the war outside had subsided, the rift had closed, the city gates had reopened, and sunlight fell upon the wasteland. All they had to do was push open the gate to return to the peaceful days of the past.
This was a more insidious method.
The impact of fear would only provoke resistance, but the longing for peace would slowly breed betrayal and wishful thinking.
The Spiderweb Ancient Being manipulated the spore mist to slowly seep into the gaps of the pipelines extending outward from the shelter pod. It was not in a rush to flood in. Instead, it cultivated tiny mutated spore clusters inside the pipelines bit by bit, waiting for the right moment to detonate them in the cabin's ventilation circuit, silently spreading psychic toxins in the sealed space.
The supreme ruler's consciousness hovered above its four kin, gazing for a long time at this sealed cluster of thermal signatures that was the shelter pod.
It had witnessed many sieges. Most of the trapped could maintain order for the first few days. But as hunger, exhaustion, and mental torment accumulated, suspicion, looting, and mutual slaughter would breed in the sealed space. It was not in a hurry. The twenty-one-day material limit was merely a fleeting moment to the ancient beings with their long lifespans. It was willing to wait patiently, waiting for the inside of the iron box to fall into chaos on its own.
Time passed bit by bit inside the cabin.
On the first day, everyone could still barely restrain their emotions. Shifts were orderly, and the wounded rested quietly despite their pain. The sounds of ramming the outer wall came from time to time. With every dull thud, many people would instinctively tense their bodies.
By the night of the second day, trouble began to surface.
A young mother fell into an illusion. She saw the pod door wide open, her child running toward the safe streets outside. She went mad, picking up the child in her arms and rushing toward the gate. The military police on guard hurried forward to stop her. She struggled desperately, screaming and crying, possessing astonishing strength. It took several people working together to subdue her. The military doctor could only use one of the remaining sedatives to put her to sleep. The sedatives were originally reserved for pain relief for the severely wounded. Using one meant that a wounded soldier would have to endure excruciating pain afterward.
Similar incidents occurred one after another.
Some people screamed in their sleep, while others stared blankly at the alloy ceiling in silence while awake, refusing to eat or drink. The illusions flowed like an undercurrent, silently surging in this sealed darkness.
Lin Yan did not relax his Sea of Consciousness perception for a moment. He not only had to continuously monitor the movements of the beast herd outside but also had to constantly pay attention to the consciousness fluctuations of the five ancient beings in the cavern. The prolonged overuse of his Sea of Consciousness caused his temples to throb continuously, and his eyes were filled with bloodshot veins. He knew clearly that the true killing move of the ancient beings was never the claws of the scaled beasts, but the endless tug-of-war on the Sea of Consciousness level. The physical siege was merely the shell; the psychic encirclement was the core.
"Spore aggregation signal detected outside ventilation pipeline number three. The Spiderweb Ancient Being is cultivating spore clusters over there," Lin Yan suddenly looked at a newly popped-up alert on the terminal and immediately warned loudly. "They intend to send spores into the cabin through the ventilation system!"
The two soldiers guarding the pipeline immediately picked up the detonator controllers and quickly headed to the monitoring point of ventilation valve number three.
Outside, a third-tier scaled beast sensed the location of the pipeline. Its thick head continuously rammed the protective grille outside the ventilation shaft. The metal grille gradually deformed, emitting a creaking, twisting sound.
The dull sound of ramming came again. Once, and then again. It struck the cold cabin walls, and it also struck the hearts of every person trapped inside.
Outside the iron box, the beast herd lurked; inside the iron box, illusions surged in the dark; deep within the subterranean rift, the lizard ancient beings coldly observed this long siege.
The bloody battle for the West Bastion had entered its most agonizing stage.
End of Chapter.
After the heavy alloy gate was locked, the sounds of external slaughter and beast roars were isolated by the thick layers. However, the invisible psychic pressure did not stop at the gate. The consciousness waves of the Sharp-Sense Ancient Being could penetrate the concrete and alloy layers. Like ice-cold needles, they continuously pierced into the Sea of Consciousness of everyone inside the cabin. No one could escape. Without Sea of Consciousness cultivators to build barriers and share the burden, everyone had to endure the waves of throbbing pain and dizziness alone.
Many civilians were curled up on the anti-slip floor mats on both sides of the cabin, their hands tightly covering their ears, their bodies occasionally trembling uncontrollably. The illusions would still descend without warning: some saw the alloy ceiling above slowly melting, with black spore liquid dripping through the seams; others saw the gate collapsing inward, the sharp claws of the scaled beasts reaching in through the cracks; still others heard the calls of their deceased relatives in the alleys outside, struggling to rush toward the gate, only to be gently held down by the military police guarding the passage, who repeatedly chanted wake-up code words to soothe them.
The space inside the cabin was simply divided.
The innermost area was the civilian resettlement zone. The elderly and children were huddled together, with most children having their eyes covered by their mothers, not daring to look around. The middle section was the wounded area. Forty-two wounded lay on simple stretchers, their bandages soaked with dark red blood. Medical supplies were already scarce. The military doctor ran back and forth, only able to prioritize treating massive hemorrhages and open wounds. Near the gate was the alert zone for the remaining thirty-plus combat personnel. Their weapons were placed within arm's reach, and they took turns standing guard, not daring to relax for a moment.
Lin Yan set up his portable terminal on a reinforced bracket next to the wounded area. The screen clearly projected the distribution of thermal signatures outside the shelter pod.
Dense light points were spread out in circles along the outer wall of the shelter pod, forming a tight encirclement. Three third-tier scaled beasts guarded the entrances of the three passages leading to the pod door. The remaining ordinary scaled beasts scattered, slowly patrolling close to the outer wall of the pod, continuously ramming the exterior with their heads and tails. The dull thud, thud sounds were intermittently transmitted through the thick steel plate. The rhythm was slow and steady, like an endless drumbeat of doom.
"They are not attempting to forcibly breach the pod," Lin Yan reported steadily to Scholar Su, staring at the movement patterns of the thermal signatures. "The claws and bone spurs of the scaled beasts cannot gnaw through this level of cast alloy. The Beast Commander knows that a direct assault would be too costly and has chosen to besiege us. They are taking turns ramming the outer wall. On one hand, this continues to exert psychological pressure on us; on the other hand, they are looking for weak points like pod pipelines and ventilation shafts."
Scholar Su stood in front of the terminal screen, his gaze sweeping over the ring of black light points before turning to the supply statistics table beside him.
"Drinking water is to be distributed at the minimum ration, one small portion per person per day. Compressed rations will also be reduced. At the current rate of consumption, our reserves can support a maximum of twenty-one days. The oxygen circulation system is intact, but the filter modules are degrading. After fourteen days at most, the purification efficiency will continue to decline," the adjutant reported the data in a low voice, his tone heavy. "Medical consumables are critically short, and the painkillers are almost gone."
Twenty-one days.
This was the time limit left for everyone. Either they would wait for reinforcements from the other directions of the six bastions during this time, or... they would wait until their resources were exhausted and starve to death inside this iron box.
But everyone knew in their hearts that the hope for reinforcements was slim.
When the beast tide broke out, all six bastions were in a state of emergency, each bearing the offensive launched by the lizard ancient beings. Every defensive line was stretched to the limit, struggling to defend themselves. The external communication base stations of the West Bastion had been completely destroyed. Now, the shelter pod only retained a low-power encrypted long-wave radio. The signal had a hard time penetrating the spore cloud to transmit distress messages outward. Whether it could be sent out, or whether it could be received by the other bastions, was entirely unknown.
"Radio watch personnel, send a distress message every two hours on a fixed frequency. Do not stop," Scholar Su ordered in a deep voice. "Install blast-proof grilles on all ventilation shafts and assign dedicated personnel to guard them. Once a scaled beast is detected attempting to infiltrate through the ventilation pipeline, immediately detonate the small blast-blocking charges pre-installed inside the pipeline. All personnel must take shifts to rest, ensuring that at least half of the people remain awake at all times to prevent large-scale loss of control triggered by illusions."
The orders were passed down layer by layer, and the order inside the cabin slowly stabilized.
Deep within the cavern, the five ancient beings remained at the core of the rift, their consciousness quietly connecting to the beast herd besieging the shelter pod.
The Beast Commander methodically arranged for the scaled beasts to take turns on guard duty. Some rested to recover their strength, while others patrolled the outer walls to probe and ram as a deterrent. The Sharp-Sense Ancient Being retracted its previous explosive impacts, shifting to a continuous, low-intensity erosion. It slowly wore down the mental endurance of the people inside the cabin. Compared to fierce battles, this slow torture was more likely to break people's spirits. The Illusion Ancient Being no longer projected large-scale bloody scenes. Instead, it created gentle, tempting illusions: the war outside had subsided, the rift had closed, the city gates had reopened, and sunlight fell upon the wasteland. All they had to do was push open the gate to return to the peaceful days of the past.
This was a more insidious method.
The impact of fear would only provoke resistance, but the longing for peace would slowly breed betrayal and wishful thinking.
The Spiderweb Ancient Being manipulated the spore mist to slowly seep into the gaps of the pipelines extending outward from the shelter pod. It was not in a rush to flood in. Instead, it cultivated tiny mutated spore clusters inside the pipelines bit by bit, waiting for the right moment to detonate them in the cabin's ventilation circuit, silently spreading psychic toxins in the sealed space.
The supreme ruler's consciousness hovered above its four kin, gazing for a long time at this sealed cluster of thermal signatures that was the shelter pod.
It had witnessed many sieges. Most of the trapped could maintain order for the first few days. But as hunger, exhaustion, and mental torment accumulated, suspicion, looting, and mutual slaughter would breed in the sealed space. It was not in a hurry. The twenty-one-day material limit was merely a fleeting moment to the ancient beings with their long lifespans. It was willing to wait patiently, waiting for the inside of the iron box to fall into chaos on its own.
Time passed bit by bit inside the cabin.
On the first day, everyone could still barely restrain their emotions. Shifts were orderly, and the wounded rested quietly despite their pain. The sounds of ramming the outer wall came from time to time. With every dull thud, many people would instinctively tense their bodies.
By the night of the second day, trouble began to surface.
A young mother fell into an illusion. She saw the pod door wide open, her child running toward the safe streets outside. She went mad, picking up the child in her arms and rushing toward the gate. The military police on guard hurried forward to stop her. She struggled desperately, screaming and crying, possessing astonishing strength. It took several people working together to subdue her. The military doctor could only use one of the remaining sedatives to put her to sleep. The sedatives were originally reserved for pain relief for the severely wounded. Using one meant that a wounded soldier would have to endure excruciating pain afterward.
Similar incidents occurred one after another.
Some people screamed in their sleep, while others stared blankly at the alloy ceiling in silence while awake, refusing to eat or drink. The illusions flowed like an undercurrent, silently surging in this sealed darkness.
Lin Yan did not relax his Sea of Consciousness perception for a moment. He not only had to continuously monitor the movements of the beast herd outside but also had to constantly pay attention to the consciousness fluctuations of the five ancient beings in the cavern. The prolonged overuse of his Sea of Consciousness caused his temples to throb continuously, and his eyes were filled with bloodshot veins. He knew clearly that the true killing move of the ancient beings was never the claws of the scaled beasts, but the endless tug-of-war on the Sea of Consciousness level. The physical siege was merely the shell; the psychic encirclement was the core.
"Spore aggregation signal detected outside ventilation pipeline number three. The Spiderweb Ancient Being is cultivating spore clusters over there," Lin Yan suddenly looked at a newly popped-up alert on the terminal and immediately warned loudly. "They intend to send spores into the cabin through the ventilation system!"
The two soldiers guarding the pipeline immediately picked up the detonator controllers and quickly headed to the monitoring point of ventilation valve number three.
Outside, a third-tier scaled beast sensed the location of the pipeline. Its thick head continuously rammed the protective grille outside the ventilation shaft. The metal grille gradually deformed, emitting a creaking, twisting sound.
The dull sound of ramming came again. Once, and then again. It struck the cold cabin walls, and it also struck the hearts of every person trapped inside.
Outside the iron box, the beast herd lurked; inside the iron box, illusions surged in the dark; deep within the subterranean rift, the lizard ancient beings coldly observed this long siege.
The bloody battle for the West Bastion had entered its most agonizing stage.
End of Chapter.