193. Feast on the Leviasaur
The Pacific Ocean shimmered in silent magnificence, its vast expanse stretching endlessly toward the horizon like liquid silver under the pale sky. Before it, human strength seemed trivial.
Wisps of smoke curled upward, carrying the rich aroma of meat. Massive stewing pots lined the shore, stretching endlessly into the distance.
H.A.R.M. agents and officers of all ranks—some in star-patterned black jackets, others in fierce wolf-emblazoned cloaks—were given an unprecedented order. Though wine was absent, their task was simple: feast on the meat.
As for the source of the meat:
Three hideous Leviasaur heads hung high above, their thousand-foot-long bodies coiled on the riverbank. Though they had been dead for some time, they maintained their lifelike appearance, showing no signs of decay. Agents who knew something about cooking, used silver blades to cut off the meat, then stewed it over a large fire, sprinkling it with fine salt to make it as palatable as possible.
The Old General, wearing black armor, sat at the front with a small table before him.
His expression remained serene as he unhurriedly poured half a glass of wine, took a measured sip, and gazed steadily at the ocean before him.
The surging waves failed to stir him.
Under his imposing aura, even the vast Pacific seemed to diminish in grandeur.
A banner stood beside him, emblazoned with the words "H.A.R.M. Coastal Patrol!"
The agents from H.A.R.M. Vancouver, while eating the Leviasaur meat, gazed respectfully at the old man.
Though many spoke of General Grant's age, none could have guessed the old tiger still harbored such fierce power in his heart. When his tiger eyes blazed open once more, he proved himself the same awe-inspiring H.A.R.M. General of Vancouver had always known!
Two months ago, the Pacific Leviasaur clan emerged from the depths to terrorize humanity.
Today, Old General Grant stood before them, demonstrating to these beasts the true methods of H.A.R.M.
Eat their flesh, drink their blood!
With his massive silver halberd, he had subdued all the aquatic creatures, preventing them from daring to surface.
"..."
Skyler Grant longed to rub his face, stiff from maintaining his forced smile, but seeing the fervent gazes of his men behind him, he resisted the urge.
These young men under his command hadn't experienced such elation in years.
Each H.A.R.M. General held a distinct reputation among their agents.
For example, in Sacramento, Aisha Patani's mere presence was enough to deter vampires completely. The city remained peaceful even during her months-long absences, and her agents needed only to perform basic patrols.
Meanwhile, the young men under General Grant's command endured relentless pressure from vampires daily, never finding a moment's peace.
Such moments of celebration were rare, so he decided not to spoil their spirits.
"It's just..." Skyler Grant gazed at the calm ocean surface, a silent sigh weighing in his heart.
If that old Leviasaur achieved another breakthrough, it would rival a harmonizing human warrior who had formed Infant of Love or Redeemed Spirit. Within its ocean domain, even Aisha Patani herself would be powerless against it—let alone old General Grant.
When he asked Vernon Wells to send the message to Aisha Patani, he hoped that the sharpest sword in Cascadia could at least drive the old Leviasaur back into the water and prevent Vancouver from becoming a scene of devastation.
As for why he agreed to Kane's plan.
Beyond his genuine admiration for this young man and willingness to go along with his schemes, he believed that as a H.A.R.M. General, he couldn't justify hiding in the city while sending the very people under his protection to die in his place.
… …
Meanwhile, in a nearby village.
A small group gathered around a table.
All the villagers had been evacuated, except for two who refused to leave.
The widow timidly glanced at the young man in black armor and red cloak as she carefully lifted the Leviasaur meat from the pot and set it on the table.
After a few months, he still wore the gold-patterned black scabbard. His handsome face had softened from its cold murderous intent, yet the pressure he emanated was far greater than before—as if countless acts of killing had forced his murderous intent to concentrate deep within.
The madman, too, had undergone a profound transformation. His once-disheveled appearance had given way to that of a refined young man.
He retrieved the wine he had stored at home and respectfully filled the glasses of the two warriors seated across from him.
Max Vierkant sat without touching his drink, his face etched with worry as he silently accompanied Kane. Experience had taught him that silence was the wisest choice in Kane's presence. He knew better than to question Kane's plans.
"..."
I closed my eyes and descended into internal reflection.
Within my sea of essence, I saw the Seed of Hope, which had grown more powerful inside the Cosmic Devouring Crystal Core, now radiating a faint crimson glow. Vast waves of white light enveloped it.
Ever since coming to Vancouver, this power of faith seemed to have become even more abundant.
Strange...
Even if someone has built a temple in my honor, how could it generate such an abundance of power in so brief a time?
I couldn't think of anything I had done to deserve such deep reverence and devotion.
But why dwell on it?
I had previously conceived the idea of cultivating both an Infant of Love and a Redeemed Spirit simultaneously. Now that I had the time, I might as well attempt it.
I opened my eyes, checked the panel, and examined the remaining nine thousand-plus years of absorbed lifespan.
I began simulating the CosmicDevouring Crystallization technique once more.
This time, however, I focused on harnessing the power of faith rather than that of vampire cores.
[Year 1, you begin planting another seed—a Seed of Faith...]
In an instant, the white lights—which had previously drifted naturally toward me—was suddenly drawn into the inner core of my sea of essence with force and ravenous hunger.
As I observed this process, I finally grasped why the Path of Redemption was considered a shortcut.
I no longer needed to laboriously gather resources. Simply by sitting here, the power of faith effortlessly surrounded me from every direction.
Perhaps because I already had experience, the process progressed smoothly without any complications.
[Year 932, you successfully condense a Seed of Faith...]
The tiny white lights—invisible except to internal vision—grew dimmer.
In response, a larger, more brilliant white light pulsated gently within the crystal core, mirroring the crimson seed.
It succeeded so easily?
I lifted my wine glass to conceal my surprise.
The white light spot remained distinct from the crimson seed. Yet, blood threads stretched between them as they overlapped—like a soul reaching toward a body, passing through one another without contact. The two seeds wouldn't be crowding each other after all.
However, this white light spot seemed to bring no noticeable improvement.
There was no change in either my strength or my aura.
It was a pity that the power of faith was nearly depleted. Otherwise, I would have liked to continue the simulation to discover what other changes might emerge.
I closed the panel and began exploring what this white seed could do.
I had originally planned for General Grant to provoke the old Leviasaur by making it witness its blood brothers being dismembered and devoured—hoping that in its rage, it would force a breakthrough, resulting in an unstable realm and greatly diminished power...
But now the Strait of Georgia was even quieter than usual.
It seemed these ancient creatures, having lived for centuries, possessed remarkable self-control.
… …
Another five days passed.
Time and again, the water boiled away in the massive pots lining the shore.
The three thousand-foot Leviasaur corpses lay dismembered and strewn about—a grotesque spectacle.
The agents and officers were on the verge of vomiting from the endless feast of the same food. Even for the sake of deterring sea creatures, this seemed excessive.
They gazed helplessly at Old General Grant, but he showed no intention of letting them stop.
Then, suddenly, he rose to his feet.
Relief flickered in the agents' eyes, but before their expressions could brighten, waves began crashing against the shore.
Through the churning waters of the Pacific, where white-capped waves crashed against each other in a violent dance, a sinister black line materialized beneath the surface. Like a wound torn across the ocean's face, it stretched an impossible distance—at least two thousand feet in length.
The turbid waters seemed to part around this dark manifestation, as if even the sea itself recoiled from what was emerging from its depths.
Everyone froze, their pupils constricting as chills ran down their spines, goosebumps rising all over them.
A massive shadow emerged beneath the waves, rapidly expanding to dominate the ocean's surface.
That dark line was none other than the spine of a monstrous aquatic beast!