Became an Evolving Space Monster

Chapter 277:



The psychic power unleashed from the antlered cultist bore down heavily on my body.

She had used a combination of "Bind", often favored by Number 26, and an advanced psychic technique, "Gravity Control", one after another in quick succession. The aim was clear—to immobilize me and then unleash a powerful attack.

Of course, I wasn’t inclined to play along with her plan. I moved to counter it, but Number 26, nestled against my chest, acted first.

With a burst of psychic power from the Sea Demon, the force restraining me dissipated instantly. Feeling the sudden lightness return to my body, I spread my winged arms wide and soared up the silo.

Almost at the same time, rainbow-colored orbs whizzed past just beneath my tail, narrowly missing me and colliding with the shielded walls surrounding the Command center, where they evaporated upon impact.

The attack was “Color Bomb”—a technique that inflicts severe damage while causing random negative effects on any target it hits.

Hanging upside down in the middle of the silo, I adjusted the angle of the biological cannons on my back, aiming for both the cultist ranker and the transport ship. Two spores filled with explosive fluid dropped down.

Yet, once again, my attack proved futile. The spores vanished the moment they touched the purple mandala the cultist had summoned, dissolving away as if swept up in a wave—just like when the psychic breath had been nullified.

“It doesn’t just block energy.”

After this brief exchange of attacks, we found ourselves in a momentary stalemate.

The cultist clearly knew who I was, and she was likely analyzing the information she’d gleaned from this first skirmish.

I did the same, watching her closely from my perch in the silo.

“Why would a cultist ranker be here?”

According to rumors I’d heard before arriving at Kesha Arma, this fortress had been under pirate control for quite some time. If this were a cult stronghold, that might make sense, but it was odd to find a cultist ranker in the current circumstances.

“She’s nothing like Muriel, who at least had a pirate-like aura.”

If she were, Kadun would have mentioned his boss was a cult pirate.

“Or… is she one of Jason’s allies?”

Jason had mentioned knowing two cultist rankers. One belonged to another faction, so he knew little about them, but the other operated within the Empire alongside him.

And this cultist had antlers. The odds were high that Jason knew her.

“Her name was Cynthia, right?”

Antlered cultist Cynthia possessed defensive abilities even more formidable than Jason’s. Because of this, she typically took on a support role when they worked together.

Not every ranker excels in direct combat. Some players, like Jason, relish offensive techniques, while others specialize in supporting and protecting their allies.

“A ranker specialized in defense.”

The purple mandala enveloped her, the pirates behind her, and the transport ship.

Jason had once said her ability surpassed his own defensive techniques.

Indeed, the purple mandala had neutralized not only my psychic breath but also the explosive spores. According to what I’d heard, it could block various forms of attacks beyond those two.

Moreover, the mandala’s form could be adjusted to defend against attacks from multiple directions. Right now, she had molded it into a dome to protect herself and her companions.

“An installation-based technique, like Complex Spectrum?”

In games, skills or traits that provide an area-based defense are rare, often exclusive to boss-level creatures. While some installation-based defensive abilities are available to players, they usually come with significant limitations or are of limited effectiveness.

“The challenge is finding a weak point…”

Unfortunately, Jason didn’t have complete knowledge of the cultist’s unique traits.

Partly because his memories had suffered after his transformation, but also because of his arrogance—he rarely paid attention to those he deemed weaker than himself. For someone like him, he might have seen the antlered cultist merely as a convenient buff dispenser.

“I’ll have to observe firsthand.”

With my thoughts organized, I focused on her attire.

“Her armor looks standard.”

She was dressed in a loose-fitting garment resembling a stola. Cult nobility often wore such clothing in daily life.

It seemed clear that, while the antlered cultist knew who I was, she hadn’t expected me to show up here.

Not surprising. In the game, Kesha Arma wasn’t particularly beneficial for Amorph evolution. I wouldn’t have thought to come here either if I hadn’t uncovered that intel at the slave market.

“At least we ran into them while they’re in a weakened state.”

「Big One, that one’s scary.」

Nestled in my chest arm, Number 26 whispered faintly, its psychic waves radiating in a trembling tone. When it came to detecting and utilizing psychic power, 26’s sensitivity surpassed mine.

Truthfully, I shared a similar sentiment. Despite her shabby outfit, I couldn’t afford to underestimate her. Even if she specialized in support abilities, a ranker was still a ranker—a formidable opponent.

Keeping my guard up, I asked 26 a question.

[ZZZ ZZ ZZZ ZZ ZZZ ZZZZ (Can you restrain her, like you’ve done with others?)]

「I’ll try.」

Quietly, the Sea Demon’s psychic power seeped into the metal walls of the silo, creeping along with the stealth of a predator stalking prey in a reed field. As if on cue, the energy converged over the dome of her mandala.

But, just like before, 26’s psychic power was thwarted, dissipating as it hit the dome.

[ZZZ (It’s no good.)]

「That prickly thing’s in the way.」

I patted 26’s sullen figure with my small arm.

“The same attack gets through from inside but is blocked when it comes from outside.”

The mechanism of 26’s Bind and the cultist’s own technique was essentially the same, differing only in the quantity of psychic power. The fact that only her attacks could pass through suggested she’d designed it with selective access.

“Nothing is perfect.”

Even this Command center had shielding capable of withstanding my psychic breath, yet I’d managed to breach it. Her defense skill was no different; no matter how absurdly powerful, it was bound to have some flaw.

Unfurling the membrane of my wings once more, I let go of the metal wall and glided through the silo.

Let’s see if there’s a weak point in the fortress that Cynthia had crafted.

---

“What… what is that?”

“That’s the creature attacking this fortress.”

“Damn it all! Where did that thing come from…?”

“The enemy is extremely powerful. Under no circumstances should you leave the energy field.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Staying put is the best help you can give.”

While Cynthia attempted to calm a panicked Montana, her own composure wavered.

“Damn it…”

She struggled to maintain her calm; the situation was far too grave.

This marked only her third encounter with an Amorph ranked fifth. She hadn’t faced Amorph often, but his infamous reputation had reached her ears countless times.

Jason, who had to post an apology on the community boards after being killed every day for months as punishment for obstructing Amorph’s evolution.

Akira, who lost three colony planets and faced defeat fighting against him.

Zubaka, unable to advance to High Patriarch for two weeks after Amorph annihilated the Mechanist Committee.

The “Dominion Faction” members all harbored deep, near-fearful grudges toward Amorph.

But it wasn’t only Dominion Faction members who feared him. Even members of her own faction—the “Return Faction”—had issued warnings.

Never confront him.

If there’s a chance of fighting him, just run.

The person who issued that warning was one who had faced Amorph more than anyone. Though he ranked lower than the fifth spot, his strategic genius allowed him to defeat Amorph multiple times.

Even a formidable player like him had advised without hesitation—run at all costs.

"If I could've run, I'd already have done so."

The moment that creature appeared, it targeted the transport ship, aiming to block any escape. She wasn’t sure who, or what, was behind it, but it had clearly intended to trap them from the start.

Had it not been for her special ability—the Mantra of Phase Defense—it would’ve been impossible to fend it off.

The Mantra of Phase Defense created a powerful shield, a purple mandala that blocked not only physical and energy-based attacks but even typically unblockable assaults, like vortex waves.

Thanks to this, Cynthia often served as a support role when the Dominion Faction hunted players. The shield’s range wasn’t very wide—ten meters at most—but it was sufficient to protect a small group.

However, the Mantra wasn’t without its weaknesses. In addition to its limited range, there was a fatal flaw.

Not that she was worried about it now. It had taken even her faction allies a while to realize that vulnerability, and it was unlikely that an Amorph she’d encountered only moments ago would identify it.

Her real concern wasn’t the Mantra, but rather something else.

She might have the strongest shield, but her weaponry was lacking. Taking this creature down with her current strength wouldn’t be easy.

“Plus, that pet of his…”

The little pink creature nestled in Amorph’s chest, resembling a Bubble Amoeba. It was a Sea Demon.

Attempting a psychic battle with a creature adept in psychic power control would be foolish.

Indeed, she’d been using every psychic skill at her disposal, but the Sea Demon rendered them all ineffective.

Meanwhile, the creature relentlessly attacked her shield, deploying various abilities.

Biological bombs launched from the cannons on its back, spikes shooting from the pincers within its tail—these were traits she had seen in the game.

However, when a sickening-colored bubble was fired from its body, a chill ran down her spine. Fortunately, the ominous bubble dissipated upon hitting the shield.

Predictably, the creature didn’t give up and immediately launched another assault, closing in as soon as the sphere’s effect faded. One of its many limbs, replacing its wings, slashed at her shield.

「Grrr…」

Its claws melted like ice cream as they touched the barrier.

It was the first injury she’d inflicted since their battle began, but it was no time to let her guard down. She swiftly raised her left hand, summoning a massive scythe of purple energy over the creature's head.

The scythe was called “Reaper’s Hand,” a psychic skill specialized for slicing through heavy armor. It could cut through the frontal plating of a battleship with ease. It should be able to shatter that head armor, too.

As the scythe descended, aiming to cleave the creature’s head in two, it subtly tilted its head, letting the scythe collide with its asymmetrical horn—and the scythe disintegrated upon contact.

“A Gallagon horn!”

She’d thought it could only neutralize defensive psychic skills, but to wield it like this? Shocked, she prepared to counterattack, but the creature moved a step faster.

Its grotesque maw opened wide, unleashing a fountain of green liquid. She flinched as the putrid fluid showered down toward her.

“What the hell is that?!”

“…Disgusting.”

The Mantra held firm, sparing her from even a single drop, which instead splattered onto the floor, dissolving the metal beneath with acrid smoke.

“Acidic liquid…”

She committed the new trait to memory as the creature’s acid breath was a first for her. Once more, she flung Reaper’s Hand, this time aiming for its legs.

The purple scythe cut through the smoky haze and flew towards its mark. The creature, spreading its massive wings, leaped back, evading the strike.

“Good!”

She’d anticipated the retreat. As soon as she released Reaper’s Hand, she launched a Color Bomb in its direction. The creature tried to dodge, but its size made it impossible to fully evade the blast. The Color Bomb struck its abdomen, cracking part of its carapace.

「Grrrr!」

"Nice job!"

"You damn bastard!"

The Amorph let out a low growl, while cheers echoed from behind her. The creature, hit by the Color Bomb, staggered slightly, gripping onto the silo for support.

'Good, if I keep this up...'

But her satisfaction was fleeting. She quickly noticed something strange about it.

'The Sea Demon’s gone?'

The small pink creature it had been holding against its chest had vanished.

As soon as she realized this, the ground beneath her began to tremble violently.

'No way?!'

Melted holes, the missing Sea Demon.

It was clear—the creature had targeted the unprotected areas of the shield.

Realizing its intent, she quickly reconfigured the Mantra of Phase Defense. In less than a second, cracks formed in the floor as debris began to rise around her.

Several head-sized holes appeared, and pink tendrils emerged from them, reaching up toward her legs. Just before they could ensnare her, she completed the shield’s adjustment.

With a sickening slicing sound, the tendrils lost their strength and slumped to the floor. By shifting from a dome to a spherical shield, it had severed any intruding appendages within.

'That was close…'

She barely had a moment to breathe before a sharp pain struck her abdomen. Looking down, she saw the cloth around her waist was stained red.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I... I have to kill... kill you, kill... I have to kill you!"

As she turned, dazed, she saw Montana and his bodyguard behind her.

The bodyguard, clutching a Gauss rifle and muttering incoherently, seemed to be in a trance, while Montana struggled to restrain him.

Without hesitation, she cast a binding technique, pushing the deranged bodyguard outside the shield.

"I’ll kill you! Kill... kill, kill! Hehehe! Hahaha!"

The unhinged guard charged at the shield, only to be annihilated upon contact.

Ignoring the guard, she quickly used a healing technique. The bleeding stopped, and as the wound healed, the pain gradually faded.

"What... what on earth just happened?"

"...It seems to be the creature’s doing."

Gritting her teeth, she glared at the monster clinging to the silo.

Its head tendrils, cascading down its neck like a mane, fluttered briefly, then settled.

"Such a shame."

It was the first time she heard the creature speak since the battle began.

Cynthia knew the voice, so ordinary and seemingly borrowed from someone else, wasn't its own. She’d experienced it once before while fighting it.

But hearing it directly now, an emotion swelled rapidly within her heart.

And that emotion was terror.


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