Chapter 1606.5- Different abilities
Why? The answer was obvious: quantity and quality.
Rough estimates suggested at least a hundred evolved had cast Fireball simultaneously.
While Fireball was commonplace, assembling a hundred practitioners still required effort. And to achieve that level of destructive power, every caster must have Advanced Fireball at minimum.
Indeed, all hundred Cannibal Chain evolved had mastered Advanced Fireball.
Even for resource-rich Cloud Peak, assembling such a team wouldn’t be easy. It required not just a hundred Fireball skill scrolls but two hundred skill upgrade scrolls.
The former were cheap and plentiful, but the latter were prohibitively expensive. Cloud Peak could afford them, but gathering that many would take considerable time.
This single display revealed Cannibal Chain’s staggering wealth.
As a commercial organization, they might lack legendary exploits or famous warriors. But their true strength lay in unassuming lethality—the kind that stays hidden until it shocks the world.
No other faction would invest two hundred precious upgrade scrolls into a common skill like Fireball. Yet Cannibal Chain had done so, proving there were no weak skills—only weak users.
A low-tier skill, at high ranks, had rivaled—no, surpassed—alien technology.For the first time, Ye Zhongming began to believe Ruan Xiao and Wu Xiu’s claims. They might truly have the means to fulfill their proposed conditions.
His perception of this even-more-discreet-than-Five-Ring-Money organization shifted dramatically.
He’d never underestimated Cannibal Chain—they’d been a major power in both his past and present lives. However, through years of interaction, he’d considered them slightly inferior to Five Ring Money, whether in terms of cooperation depth, regional managers’ capabilities, or trade network stability.
Executives like Deacon Water, Director Tong, and others had always outshone Cannibal Chain’s regional managers—even the competent Ruan Xiao paled in comparison.
This had led Ye Zhongming to undervalue Cannibal Chain.
Now, he realized how mistaken he’d been. This organization had quietly pursued a different path.
If their philosophy were cultivating large-scale, coordinated combat groups, then even if their elite forces lagged behind others, their model would dominate in large-scale warfare.
And were their elites truly inferior? Probably not…
This was a classic case of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Ye Zhongming’s wariness of Cannibal Chain escalated sharply.
Though not the first attacked, the Motley Crusaders’ massive numbers and extended frontline inevitably drew the largest mutant swarm.
Yet their performance matched the other factions’ excellence.
Given their size, they should have struggled with formation changes—even pre-apocalypse militaries rarely achieved such discipline, except for a few global powers.
But the moment the attack came, the entire force retreated in perfect unison, maintaining formation as they fell back dozens of meters in seconds.
Under normal circumstances, such a retreat would be meaningless. Here, however, it created a killing zone.
The ice!
As the Crusaders withdrew, the mutants’ initial assault missed its mark. Using their limited terrestrial mobility, the creatures surged toward this largest group of evolved.
The vanguard consisted of SUV-sized, hard-shelled oddities that slithered across the ice with surprising speed despite their bulk. Their countless pincers, crusted with frozen seawater, shattered the ice with each movement.
Headless, their upper shells bore a row of cyan eyes that fired disorienting beams upon emerging. Any evolver hit would lose consciousness—only six-star evolved or those with strong mental resistance could withstand it.
But no faction surviving this long could be underestimated. The Crusaders seemed prepared, raising giant clamshell-like shields that blocked the beams completely.
These shield-bearers held the line steadfastly while the rest retreated further, launching ranged attacks that caused chaos but little decisive damage to the overwhelming horde.
As the mutant tide surged toward Cloud Peak, Ye Zhongming’s gaze remained fixed on the Crusaders. He wanted to see how these foreigners would counter.
Gyanendra and Alamos were known quantities—future enemies, but ones he understood. This massive, unfamiliar faction demanded scrutiny.
Then Ye Zhongming’s eyes narrowed. The shield wall was transforming—its edges curving inward in perfect synchronization, morphing from a straight line into a wedge formation.
Reducing contact area? Ye Zhongming marveled at the textbook-perfect maneuver. But what was their goal? Surely not just showing off discipline.
The answer came swiftly.
The three-thousand-strong mutated polar bear cavalry charged.
Having retreated to sufficient distance, they regrouped and launched their assault.
Each rider wielded three-meter-long cleavers—some high-level evolved dual-wielded them.
As the polar bears accelerated, their white fur enveloped the riders, fusing them into single entities.
At the last moment, the shield wall split open like a blooming flower, its members withdrawing smoothly while leaving their shields planted in the ice.
Then the cavalry smashed through the abandoned shields and plowed into the mutant ranks.
A brutal melee ensued.