Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 1137: Chapter 628: Formless Flesh

As soon as the words were spoken, the snake pattern on the bow seemed to come alive, bursting with intense Spirit Light, resonating with the serpentine battle scars writhing on Boslake’s arms.

All the power was infused, drawing an unprecedented arc, the bowstring tightened, emitting a hoarse sound as if a venomous snake was coiled in defiance.

In the brief moment of charging, the shadow swooped down, but at this instant, a heavy arrow shot into the sky, carrying with it all of Boslake’s power and unwavering determination.

If one’s inspiration was high enough, they might see a serpent shape formed by spiritual light winding around that heavy arrow; at the moment of impact, it seemed like a giant serpent was biting into the shadow.

Instantly, an imperceptible force exploded, causing the previously diving shadow to let out a grievous wail, flapping its wings again and dragging that heavy arrow straight into the air.

Survived...

This was most people’s first reaction, the arrow from a moment ago greatly uplifted their spirits, and they couldn’t help but look towards the silhouette against the sunset.

Boslake’s posture with his bow raised had not yet relaxed, but in the next second, he almost collapsed backward in a state of exhaustion, saved only by his son beside him who reacted quickly to support him.

But being so close, the boy could feel his father’s steady large hand unable to even hold the bow properly, visibly trembling.

It was clear that the arrow from before had truly exhausted all his strength, directly tipping him into a state of weakness.

This situation made the originally slightly eased atmosphere turn strange once more.

But now they couldn’t stop; stopping would mean dispersing.

"The children of the Mountains are not this fragile!" Boslake said, catching his breath, forcing himself to stand up again, and shouted back at the others:

"Going back to the Mountains means death, going to Bastia also means death. Do you want to wait here to die? You might as well follow me to Hamlet, there’s still a chance of survival."

Encouraged by him, the others started moving again.

Hamlet always held a peculiar allure for those who had fallen into despair and bewilderment.

This team shrouded in suffering was yearning for hope.

......

Hamlet, Beast Lair.

An intense battle was erupting, a Giant Devourer wildly thrashing about in the vine-covered corridor; its terrifying maw could easily bite through a pig’s head, naturally able to chew through those vines.

Not to mention, it wielded wicked power.

Weaken the prey!

Its revoltingly complex eyes emitted an eerie light, fixating on Grendel.

The Giant Devourer didn’t hesitate, advancing across the layer of unknown filth accumulated who knows when on the ground.

The exaggerated strength brought by its massive size easily overturned the rooted vines, surging towards Grendel, dragging vines and dirt behind it.

A distance still lay between them, but the tentacles writhing on its mouth seemed ready to swallow its prey, not to forget that its maw could be projected out, swallowing a person in one bite.

However, Grendel, although having not fought for a while, possessed a will not easily influenced.

Raising a hand, she emitted pollen from her sleeve, directly covering the face of the Devourer.

Yet the creature resisted, unaffected by the pollen.

Luckily, its mobility was not fast, granting Grendel more time to react; with a wave of her hand, more vines extended to once again bind the Giant Devourer.

The roots dove directly into the gaps of the stone bricks; every movement of the Devourer seemed to be battling the entire corridor.

At this moment, Grendel released another burst of pollen, finally seizing control over it; the vines grew incessantly, encasing it completely like a cocoon.

With the battle concluded, the sound of metal clashing came from behind Grendel.

Lance swung a hammer, not knowing what he was hammering in the dimness, but it resembled forging iron.

In the firelight, Paracelsus had her hands covered in filth; before her was a freshly completed surgery, and one could see the subject was still a critical ingredient for Healing Potions, a large Devourer.

"After evolution, aside from the size change, the internal structure of this large Devourer hasn’t altered much, but the brain shows a vast discrepancy compared to the size ratio,"

Paracelsus’s calm words sounded, and she couldn’t help but add a remark.

"Doesn’t this imply a more complex nervous system, higher intelligence, and a greater understanding of things?"

This was a very evident conclusion; before, the brain sample taken from a dissection was walnut-sized for a small Devourer, but it was fist-sized for the large Devourer. Lance had even seen larger ones choosing to flee.

However, Lance wasn’t concerned with this at the moment, so he spoke with a strong desire for control.

"I feel it’s more important to first secure a stable supply of materials; we can talk about the rest later."

Following his words, the sound of clanging resumed, accentuating the eerie atmosphere.

They had been here for some time, with most of it spent dissecting the Devourers.

Starting from the smaller ones to the larger ones now.

In fairness, previous experiments enabled the doctor to successfully sever the lower body’s responses through surgery, resulting in the awakening small Devourer being paralyzed, leaving its petal-like mouthpiece only writhing and drooling.